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#i just want her to understand me and it all makes me really really sad
writingonleaves · 2 days
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were you sent by someone who wanted me dead? (did you sleep with a gun underneath our bed?) - jeremy swayman
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pairing: jeremy swayman x original female character
warnings: swearing, pretty angsty. hopeful ish ending because i can't do sad endings, very personal but i think many can relate in their own way, cliche ish, barely proofread
inspired by + title: "the smallest man who ever lived" by taylor swift
word count: 5.6k
author's note: i'd argue almost every piece any author writes is personal, because it has their life interspersed through the words. but this one really is, because a majority of this is the exact same words i wrote years ago after a break-up. heard the bridge to this song and immediately knew i had to write something inspired by it. also trying a new format of sorts (maybe a bit meta??), so i hope you enjoy and lmk what you think!!
~*~*~
When Noelle Betsko walked away from Jeremy Swayman, holding back tears until the call dropped, she knew it was going to be a tough time for the foreseeable future. 
It didn’t matter that the pandemic had forced them apart. She knew she would still feel him for months to come.
She did the only thing she knows how to do when trying to deal with things. The one thing she always resorts to as an aspiring novelist. Sometimes on her laptop when the words were spilling out too quickly for her brain to catch up, tears littering the keyboard. Usually in her old beat-up journal, scribbling in the cursive that Jeremy claimed he always loved (“It makes your handwriting unique”) with the pens he had gifted her just a few months prior. 
At the age of 21, Noelle got her heart broken for the first time. At the age of 26, she’s about to publish her first poetry collection of sorts, all of the poems modeled after journal entries written throughout her life. So not really poetry, though her mother would say otherwise. 
She swallows as she thumbs through the middle part of the first known and binded copy of “miscellaneous.” There are only eight entries in the whole collection that are taken verbatim from her past writing. These are the eight.
May 13, 2020 (three days post-breakup, crying in my childhood bedroom)
I don’t even recognize who I was and who you were in those writings before these pages filled with love and hope and happiness. I can’t even summon up those feelings anymore that I knew existed at one point. Those feelings of complete bliss and love for someone so deep you can’t explain it. 
I’m mad at myself for not being able to conjure those feelings, because at one point, I did love you. How could something that was part of my daily life for over two years just disappear so quickly? 
But now, I’m not mad at myself. I’m mad, but I don’t know where to direct that anger to. I feel a bit empty sometimes, but then frustrated the next. Sometimes I get sad, but not so much compared to the other feelings. I spent enough time being sad during our relationship.
When we broke up, on an annoyingly beautiful Tuesday in May — over the damn phone, mind you, which whatever, it’s COVID. Fine — You told me you felt like you had been putting more effort into us. 
At the time, I didn’t react, but I’ve been thinking about how angry that statement made me. Makes me, actually. I was always very open with how much I gave to that relationship. How much it meant to me. How much it affected me. But I understand that with some people, sharing everything too much equates to things not meaning anything anymore. But you out of all people should’ve known that I mean everything I say.
I felt like I gave so much. I know I gave so much. When I told you I loved you, I always meant it. Every single time. When I told you I missed you, I always meant it. I wished you were right next to me at that moment. I mentally gave so much, because to me, I wanted to. You were always on my mind, always high up on my list of priorities. I never took us for granted.
I’ve been questioning if that was the same for you. Did you start becoming complacent?
The second thing you said that day that hasn’t left my head is that you knew me pretty well. And initially, I remember not thinking much of it. So I don’t doubt that; you always knew right when I was about to cry, even over the phone. You often knew when I was mad or upset, but when I look back now, you never pushed. Which is a good thing, to an extent. But it was a bad thing sometimes too. I knew you often wanted to give me space, but sometimes I didn’t want space. I wanted you to push. To try to understand. Maybe that’s unfair of me; it probably is. I should just say I want to talk about it more, right? 
But if you genuinely knew me, you would’ve known.
After two years, seven months and 12 days,  I still feel like I didn’t know you. Did I ever know you at all?
When people talked shit about you, I always defended you. And I still would defend you now. But lately, I've questioned what I’m even defending. All those good qualities that I thought you had, were they even real? Of course, I know some of them were, to a certain extent. But as I look back on us, there’s a lot of doubt about whether I even knew the person I called my boyfriend for so long. I know there was a point where you cared about me, but I can’t remember when. 
I often felt like I was letting you know so much about my life, but you didn’t do the same. I get that sometimes a person just wants to forget about the bad and focus on the good with a person you like for awhile. I get that. But once that was happening every damn time? That should’ve been a red flag. 
June 7, 2020 (twenty eight days post break-up, outside my childhood room on the deck) 
I don’t understand how you can give so much to something or someone and have it not be recognized or appreciated or enough. If I wasn’t enough for you, how will I be enough for anyone?
I hope one day you’ll truly understand how much this hurt. Not just the breakup, but feeling like I was always being pulled in a direction I didn’t always want to be pulled in. Feeling I was stuck between a rock and a hard place and never ever being able to win. I hate that I settled so much in the last year. Because I should’ve demanded more, even though deep down I knew you were never going to be able to give it to me.
I think back to our past daily texts, and I just don’t get it. At one point, we both meant the things we said to each other. 
Yet we still hurt each other. 
This fucking hurts.
You’ve hurt me so much, but most of it wasn’t intentional, which I think is somewhat even worse. Because I’m not totally mad at you for causing the pain. You never did anything outright to cause me pain, but I still feel like you did. 
Unintentional pain almost stings more than intentional. 
When I asked you out that night after we were both on an emotional high, I took a chance. For once in my life, I took the leap, knowing that I could get humiliated or hurt or just straight up shot down. 
Where did it all go wrong? Or, more realistically, how did we think that we could go through the wrong when it was there at the start?
I’m trying not to blame myself too much. Trying not to tell myself that I should’ve known better. 
All those times, especially at the start, when I would ask you if you genuinely liked me, you always thought I was just trying to be annoying. But you never understood that I genuinely thought that way. My self confidence from the start was lacking, and you didn’t try to understand that, because I come across to everyone as confident and self-assured. 
It hurt, when you would brush things off like that. I felt like you didn’t care.
And then, it got to the point where I stopped asking that question. Part of that is because I did become more confident and you did show that you cared, and part of that was because I knew it would piss you off.
The amount of things I was scared to talk about with you because I knew it would piss you off? I don’t wish that feeling on anybody.
I shouldn’t have been scared. I shouldn’t have been uncomfortable. But I was. And if you did notice like sometimes you claimed to, why didn’t you make it more comfortable for me? Was that too much to ask for? 
So larger than life that at the end, you faded into just the smallest man who ever lived. Fuck you.
Was it too much to ask for when I just wanted to know why you were upset? You didn’t have to ever tell me the full story (lord knows there were times I didn’t), but was it too much to ask for something? You told me once that I’m the person you’ve told the most to. How? You barely told me anything. And when I wanted to talk to you, whether it was about growing up in Alaska or why you were in a bad mood last night, you always brushed it off. Always. 
So I don’t feel so bad about feeling like I gave more effort. I gave so much of myself to you. If you really cared about me like you claimed you did, why couldn’t you show even just 1% of that care back? Or just meet me in the middle?
I could’ve tried harder to meet you in the middle, I’ll admit that. But you didn’t even give me a map or a clue how to. 
I felt so fucking left in the dark. I felt left in the dark about my own fucking relationship, something that I should be completely sure about. If you really love someone and care about them, how can you leave them in the dark? How could you not even see that I was struggling to find a flashlight?
You did care about me. I know that. To some extent and at some point in time, you did care about me. But caring about someone and their well-being isn’t always enough.
Why couldn’t you have worked with me? When I was extending my hand out, why didn’t you reach for it? How can someone just be so blind? I mean, I’m practically always spelling it out for you. 
Maybe I am being selfish. But fuck, I just wanted to be happy. At some point, you made me happy. When did I start making you feel like I wasn’t enough? Why wasn’t I enough for you?
It’s useless, in a way, to keep going about this. Because I know I deserve better. And we’ll both find people who are better for us. We just couldn’t be that person to each other.
I fucking loved you.
I wish it ended differently.
July 8, 2020 (fifty nine days post-breakup, in front of the lake)
I really really fucking miss you. 
I do. 
I miss being able to text you that i love you and not necessarily expecting a response until the next morning. I miss knowing that as soon as you wake up, you’ll text me back and assure me that yeah, you love me too. 
I’m left feeling bittersweet as I look back on memories that are just splashes and not definite strokes on the canvas that used to be us.
I miss having you as a friend. 
I’ve been having more urges lately to want to text you. And it isn’t even anything important. Just moments I experience throughout the day.
Do you get the urge to do the same?
July 19, 2020 (seventy days post-breakup, still in the same damn house)
It’s hard. It really is. And it kinda just hits you at random parts of the day. Sometimes I wake up from a dream that you were in and have to remind myself that it didn’t happen. 
Sometimes it physically aches when I realize that you won’t ever help me put on my jacket again, or complain that my hair is in your face when we’re lying on the couch watching Brooklyn Nine Nine, or groan when I drag you up to dance with me (which you never improved on, no matter how many times I tried to teach you basic rhythm). I can’t view our song the same way anymore, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to. 
The other day, I read some simple thing on Twitter. I don’t even remember what it was, but I do remember that for a split second, I could see your smile in my mind. But it wasn’t just any smile. It was the smile you gave me when you took me ice skating that first time. I remember asking you what you were smiling at, and you said that you just were taking in this moment. I don’t know if you took a mental picture that day, but I know I did. That day seems so long ago now. 
In almost anything I do, you somehow pop into my mind or into the conversation. And it’s not even in a harmful way either. It’s because you were part of my life for so long. I see a dog on the street, and it reminds me of how you always stopped to pet every single one we’s see I write something in my messy handwriting, and I remember how you always used to complain that you couldn’t read the notes I’d occasionally leave around your place when you went away. I went to the doctor’s the other day, and they said I was 5 feet and 3 inches, which is just definitely not true, and I almost reached for my phone to text you, because you would’ve cackled and insisted that no, I’m 5 feet 2 inches and it wouldn’t even matter because I’ll always be shorter than you. It’s simple and minute things that make me miss you that much more.
I still can’t listen to some songs the same way anymore, but I can at least listen to them now, which is a feat in itself. I was unpacking from college and found the teddy bear you sent me the first extended time we had to be apart and had to immediately put that out of my sight. From those boxes also came photos that I had decorated my dorm room with, and to be honest, I’m glad now that I let you keep our best one. I deal with all my emotions, besides writing, by making Spotify playlists, and I made a new one earlier this week. I think it’s helping. It’s a slow process, this whole moving on thing, but it’s one that I’m trying to be grateful for, because like most things in life, you just don’t truly know until you go through it.
Sometimes, I find myself wondering how you are and how you’re healing. But, even though we’ve both changed since the day we met, if there’s one thing I know, it’s that you’re incredibly strong and stubborn. I hope that you’re finding some growth in this process too. 
October 17, 2020 (one hundred fifty seven days post-break up, apartment in orono)
It’s been almost 5 months, and you still cross my mind everyday. 
Why wasn’t I enough for you? Why didn’t you fucking tell me what you were thinking? Why was I the one who had to approach you just because I was just so done with the silent treatment?
But I’m not mad at you. Not anymore. The mad phase passed ages ago. 
Closure is a fake word. Even a breakup as mutual and smooth as ours was still left me with so many questions that will probably never be answered. 
Any breakup fucks you up to some extent. I knew it was going to mess me up even back when we were together. But not like this. Never like this. 
But like anything in life, I guess you can never really prepare for what you think you might feel, because most of the time, you discover a whole new side of you that you never thought existed. 
I don’t miss you. I don’t. I don’t feel that love in any way anymore. 
But I did once.
You did too, right?
November 15, 2020 (one hundred eighty six days post break-up, fogler library)
I hate Halloween. 
Though, it did bring me to you three years ago. I’m pretty sure I fell in love with you right then and there. 
Three years later, you texted me on Halloween, five months after our breakup. The universe really, really wanted to fuck with me. 
It was a tough night for you. I knew that. Because I know how you are after losing a game you should’ve won. But that didn’t mean that I owed you anything and had to respond. 
We agreed on no contact if we ever wanted to stay friends. Clearly, friends is out of the picture now, but come on. A vulnerable text after a bad night because you know I would feel bad for you?
Fuck, you know how much I would hate that. You had to have known. 
Just because we’re not dating anymore doesn’t mean that everything about you just disappears. I still know your tendencies. I still know exactly how my head burrows into your chest during a hug. I still know the actions I used to do that would be followed by you attacking me with a hug. I still could point you out in a crowd. 
I looked for you in every crowd for years. 
That stuff doesn’t just go away, no matter how much I want it to. But fuck. Fuck. Why did you text me? 
I don’t regret how I handled it. I probably would’ve responded months ago. But just like you, I’ve grown these last couple of months. 
It was comforting, for a split second, to know that maybe, just maybe, these past couple of months have been hard for you too. It makes me feel human. It makes me feel like I’m not crazy.
I’m glad you texted me. You gave me another level of closure I hadn’t known that I needed until then. 
But fuck, dude. You know me better than that. You should know me better than that. 
I hate Halloween.
November 26, 2020 (one hundred ninety seven days, at the coffee shop i brought you to when you came home with me two years ago)
I don’t regret loving you, but I hate you for what you did to me. 
Or maybe not. 
I hate knowing that even though we haven’t been in a relationship in a bit, it feels like sometimes, you’re on my mind the exact same amount when we were dating. I hate knowing that I gave so much of myself and my love to you, and it always felt unrecognized. 
Fuck, will it ever stop hurting? Will I ever be able to have to stop myself from thinking about you? Will it ever stop?
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 
Happy birthday. I hope you enjoy it.
June 12, 2021 (three hundred ninety five days post-break up, in boston, visiting a friend)
Tonight, when a friend asked me about you and how I felt about how we ended, I was able to articulate my thoughts clearly. I’m really proud of myself for getting to a point where I can take the lessons I learned the few months after we broke up and acknowledge them in a succinct way without breaking down into tears. Just watery eyes and the occasional voice crack 
I’m also proud that I can say that when we were dating, I lost a bit of myself. For months, it was really hard to admit out loud.
I’m proud of how far I’ve come. Sometimes, I wish I could call or text you about it, because I think you’d be proud too. And I know I’d be proud of you. I am, to be honest. I do break resolve once in awhile and check on you through various avenues.
I still haven’t seen you in person since the last time COVID made us say goodbye. Maybe I never will again. But day by day, I’m starting to accept that and be okay with it. I’m accepting that memories that used to be so painted in my mind are blurry or almost completely erased now. But that’s okay. Honestly, it’s probably for the best. 
I wonder, when you think about it, if you think about different moments that I do. That’s the thing when something ends. You have to be okay with letting go of those moments and realizing that just because you forget them, doesn’t mean they weren’t important. 
I don’t think I miss you. I hesitate in saying that. Because I’ve moved on and handled the aftermath of it better than I think both of us ever thought I could. When you hung up the phone for the last time, I proved to myself again that I’m stronger than I give myself credit for. I think we all are. But we don’t realize it until we’re thrown into a situation that we think we’ll never be able to overcome. 
But we do. Whether it’s because we’re forced to because there’s no other option, it doesn’t matter. Because we get through. We move on. 
I hope you're moving on. 
And then it goes into other topics, graduating during a pandemic specifically and losing what’s supposed to be your last year of no responsibilities before adulthood. There are other poems in here that reference a past relationship, but not as much as these eight. 
If there’s one thing that Noelle did change, it was taking out the details. Jeremy may have hurt her, but he doesn’t deserve someone possibly making a connection between these poems and their shared background. She’s not a famous author by any means, but she wanted to be careful.
Not that she makes that part of her life publicly known. People don’t need to know that her brother was Jeremy’s captain for two years at Maine and that’s how they met. 
Noelle grew up going to rinks. She hasn’t gone to one since they broke up. 
But also, what the fuck? It’s been five years since she’s dated the guy. She really is over it by now, even if his rise to stardom in the Bruins flittering on her social media feeds still sometimes has her swallowing a bit before she can continue with her day. 
Brooklyn is far enough from Boston. But sometimes it feels like it’s right outside her door. 
She’s proud of her first published work. She really is. People believed in her and after numerous notes swapped back and forth with her editor, she did it. She always knew she wanted to work in publishing. She never knew she herself would publish anything.
And here she is now, two weeks after the book release, in Boston, about to do a q&a and a signing. Apparently, “miscellaneous” has been on top of numerous lists and it’s flying off the shelves. Noelle can’t really believe it and tries not to think about it too much, trusting her agent with all of that. 
She’s happy to talk about her work and process though. That she can handle. And she’s grateful for all the love.
After a signing at a local bookstore, she decides to walk the 20 minutes home in the Boston fall. It’s a bit brisk, but she doesn’t mind and she just wanders, belly filled with delicious sushi she inhaled for dinner with an old friend.
Of course it happens the one time during her walk when she doesn’t avoid eye contact with someone. The song playing in her earbuds fade out of her focus and she almost stumbles. 
Jeremy’s eyes were always Noelle’s favorite thing about him. She thought she would’ve forgotten what they looked like by now. But clearly she hasn’t. 
Her eyes quickly cast to the person next to him. It’s definitely a girl. They’re a bit too far away for Noelle to pick out details. But it’s enough. He’s walking on the side closest to the street. It’s a Friday Night in a bustling part of the city. 
It hurts. She wishes it didn’t.
Even from far away, she sees his eyes blink in recognition. Noelle puts her head back down and walks faster. 
(She cries in the shower when she gets back to the hotel. She had debated feeling super sorry for herself and going to the hotel bar but refrained)
She has a few free days in Boston before flying back to New York. When she wakes up the next morning, she debates on going home early. But no, she won’t let a three second glance at someone ruin her time here. She used to occasionally come here during her college days. She loves this city. 
The city may be Jeremy’s, but she can make space for herself here too. 
She takes her time at a cafe, people watching and eating some breakfast. As she takes her coffee to-go, she looks out the window at the bookstore she was in the night before for the signing. She almost drops her coffee. 
Jeremy walks into the book store. 
Now, Noelle is debating her options. What she should do is continue with her day and walk in the opposite direction. But she’s always been too nosy for her own good. And maybe a bit self destructive. She decides to leave the cafe and cross the street immediately, so impatient to where she’s almost tapping her foot as the pedestrian signal stays red. 
As a writer, she’s no stranger to movie moments. The scenes written in books or movies where the timing is too accurate to be real. The situation too good to be true. But after a car speeds through an orange and she can finally walk, she stops in her tracks instead, feet glued down to the sidewalk.
Because Jeremy is right in front of her on the other side of the street. Her book in his hand. And he’s looking right at her. 
The first feeling she can recognize in herself is anger. Anger at the way their relationship panned out. Anger at the way they ended. Anger at the radio silence the years following. Anger at him for everything. Angry at herself for everything. 
The second feeling is, weirdly, shame, which she’s embarrassed by. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. But she feels it anyways. 
The third, and perhaps the most prominent, is emptiness. Five fucking years later, and she’s brought back to the emptiness she felt immediately after they broke up. The emptiness that the person you loved isn’t yours anymore — who maybe wasn’t ever yours to begin with. 
Before she can run, he’s already crossed the street to her. He looks naturally different as someone who you haven’t seen in five years would. But he also heartbreakingly looks the same. 
“We should get out of people’s way,” Noelle manages to chokes out. 
Jeremy laughs a bit. Her heart lurches. “Yeah.” He starts walking and she follows him wordlessly. This is his city after all. 
He leads them to a bench under a tree with beautiful fall foliage. She puts at least a foot between them as they both sit down, staring out at the people passing. She can’t take the silence. 
“I see you bought my book.”
“I did,” he replies evenly. “Congratulations. I always knew you would do it.”
She squeezes her eyes shut. Maybe if she squeezes hard enough she’ll forget when she originally pitched Jeremy the bare bones idea of the exact same book that’s currently in his hand. “Thank you. Congratulations to you too. On everything.”
“You’ve been watching?”
She shakes her head. “No. But, you know Seth and…yeah. It comes up during family calls sometimes.”
“Why didn’t you say hi last night?”
She looks pointedly at a couple walking their dog. “You seemed busy.”
“She wasn’t-that-it doesn’t mean anything.”
“Oh. Because that makes me feel so much better,” she spits out, before taking a deep breath. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. We broke up ages ago.”
“I’m sorry,” she gives him a look and is slightly proud of how he seems to shrink into himself a bit. “I-I know it’s five years too late. I know I didn’t handle it as well as I should’ve. But for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
The thing is, Noelle always thought that maybe hearing an apology someday would make her feel better. But now that’s heard it, she’s not sure she does. 
She swallows. “I appreciate that.”
“I’ve already read it, you know.”
“Read what?”
Jeremy runs a hand through his hair. “Your book. One of my teammate’s girlfriend recommended it and I asked to borrow it. It’s fantastic,” He looks down at the book in his hand. It’s like the cover is taunting her. “I wanted my own copy.”
“Oh.” 
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For letting me off the hook with the poems I know were about me,” he scoffs, shaking his head at himself. “You could’ve written way worse.”
She can’t help but let out a chuckle. “I thought I was pretty mean.”
“Your definition of ‘pretty mean’ is tame compared to a lot of people,” he says, mindlessly flipping through the pages of the book. “You were always the kindest person, even when you shouldn’t have been..” 
He puts his hand out in her direction, the hand with the book in it. She furrows her eyebrows. “What-”
“Could I get a signed copy?”
“Jeremy. What do you want from me?”
He sighs, taking his hand back. “A chance to apologize?”
“You’ve already done that.”
“Not in the way I want to and what you deserve.”
She lets out a sigh, turning to face him fully. “I don’t know if that would be worth my time or yours. I know the book just came out, but that was five years ago. I’m over it. Forgive and forget, right?”
“But do you?” Jeremy counters back. “Clearly, you don’t forget, which I deserve. But forgive?” 
“We’re just going in circles now.”
“No we’re not,” he says firmly. “You’re just shutting me down because you don’t want to talk about it. I’ve had five years to prepare what I would say to you if I saw you again. You’re telling me you haven’t?”
“Of course I have,” Noelle tips her head back. “But also, what’s the point?”
“The point, is that I still love you.”
“Fuck you,” she says in a strained voice. “You can’t just-you can’t just throw that shit out there. Fuck you.”
He bites his lip, and to her annoyance, he laughs. But she listens more carefully, and it sounds very self deprecating. “I deserved that.”
“Yeah,” Noelle looks down at her feet. “So…what? You still love me?”
“I do.”
“And what are you going to do about that?”
“What are you going to let me do?”
“I live in Brooklyn.”
“I know,” she whips her head up. Jeremy looks sheepish, which she didn’t even think was something he knew how to do. “Seth mentioned it when we caught up a bit ago. I also still follow you on Instagram.”
She tries again. “It’s been five years.”
“And I’m here sitting with you and still feel the exact same way I did back then. Even more, to be honest.” He eyes her pointedly. “Any more excuses?”
Her voice softens. “You really hurt me.”
“I know. And I’m so sorry, Noelle.”
“I hurt you too.”
He shrugs. “We were young and stupid.”
“And we’re still not?” Noelle says with a snort before swallowing. “I’m not the same person you fell in love with.”
“I’m sure I’m not either. But I don’t know if there’s a world where I don’t love every version of you.”
“Even after reading the book?”
“Especially after reading the book,” he sighs. “Noelle, I know this is unfair of me. All of this. And I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to reach out. But I always intended to. And then you’re here? And I see you twice in two days? I’d be an idiot to not try. More of an idiot than I am, anyways.”
“Try for what?”
“A second chance? To be friends? Whatever you want.” He suddenly deflates. “Even if you don’t want anything to do with me. At least I’ll know.”
“Why did you never text me?”
“I thought about it a lot,” he admits. “I tried once, actually, after the high of a really good win. But it didn’t go through. I got the message.”
“The message?”
“You blocked me, right?”
Oh. “Yeah,” she lies. “I did.” She reaches into her bag for a pen and gestures for the book, which he gives to her, a curious gleam in his eyes. “I’m in Boston for two more days, including today.”
He takes the hint immediately. Eagerly. “I have a game tonight, but I’m free tomorrow.”
“Who are you guys playing?”
“Toronto. And I’m starting. Should be a good one.”
She hums non-committedly, scribbling on the inside of the front cover. She hands it back to him with a small, close-lipped smile. She nods at him to read the message.
to my first fan, 
i still love you too. 
xxx-xxx-xxxx
yours, 
noelle
He looks up, eyes shining but a bit confused. 
“I never blocked you. I just changed my number.”
“Oh.”
“And even if I still love you, I’m still mad at you.”
“I know. I’d be more surprised if you weren’t.”
She stands up, adjusting the bag on her shoulder and putting her sunglasses on. “Text me?”
His mouth splits wide into a grin. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”
She backs away with one last attempt at a smile before turning down the street.
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kajaono · 2 days
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Anthony projecting his feelings for Kate on Edwina and how the show beautifully reveals this mistake later on
Intro: I already made a post about how amazing the after-failed-wedding scene is, and how Anthony is projecting his feelings for Kate on Edwina to still save the wedding, but i want to dig deeper into it this time. Stick with me here and excuse the horrible smartphone screenshots.
Anthony comes up the Edwina, trying to convience her to still marry him, saying: "What we share is greater than else."
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Edwina doesn't seem convienced. She knows it is a lie, a lie Anthony might not even be aware of himself.
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Anthony then proceeds:
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You can see how sad, broken and tierd Edwina looks after this speech. Because... yeah the share a fate, a fate they didn't choose for themselves. But Edwinas is not necessarily a bad one. Its a privilege, the "once in a life time"-chance to find a husband and save her whole family. Yeah it is not easy, but it will be over at the end of the season. Can you compare it with being a Vicount? A title that makes him head of the family... forever! A title that makes him responsible for his whole family. A fate where is own happiness is always second, and his family always comes first. Can you compare that with being a diamond for one season?... I don't think so, Anthony.
And still... still, Anthony tries to frame it like his and Edwinas fates are alike. And i think he really believes it there. He really does. Because, yes, he indeed shares a fate with a Sharma sister... just not this one.
And now the pre-sex-scene kicks in.
First at all, Anthony confronts Kate with: "Before we both finally do something for ourselves?". A really beautiful moment and already paralleling his moment with Edwina.
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Because when Anthony utters these words you can see how Kate realize he is right. She has never done anything for herself, because she was always head of the family. Her family needs were always first, her own needs always came second. A fate she didn't choose for herself (you already see where this is going, don't you?)
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Kate immedietly confirms Anthonys words. Everything she did was for her family. Like a certain Vicount perhaps?
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And Anthony understands. Oh yes, he does!
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Because, just like Kate he always took care of his family first. A fate he didn't choose for himself.
Wait, we heard that before!
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And this is how the circle closes. Beautiful, isn't it?
This whole speech that he shared with Edwina, was never for her. It was always dedicated to Kate. He is just so deep in denial that he got a few things mixed up...
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worldofkuro · 2 days
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It's pr 2!!! YAAAY!! I love them.
5. When they just became close and Reader became really clingy and touchy, Alastor had to explain her that he has no-touch days. He told her that he just doesn't used to a lot of touching (but actually it was because his body hurts badly after his father's "bad days"). Reader was sad but trying really hard to understand and appreciate his boundaries.
6. When Reader was old enough to walk home from school on her own, she would sometimes go over to Alastor's house. Sometimes he would send her away because his father was at home. But sometimes she stayed to be with him and tell him everything that happened at school.
I think there was a moment when she came to his house crying. Someone bad at school told her that she was annoying, and even when she replied that she never annoys Alastor, this bully started to tell her that no she annoys him badly. So the Reader just needed to make sure she didn't annoy Alastor.
7. Alastor is much stronger than Reader, that's why he could easily lift her up. When they were children he could carry her home on his back because she fall down and her knees hurt. When they grew older he carried her home on his back or in bridal style because she walked all day on her (maybe not that big) hills and now her legs hurt. Sometimes she even fall asleep while he carried her!!
8. Not only her mama but Alastor too taught her how to cook. When the dishes that he knew how to cook ran out, because he had already taught her everything, he asked his mother to teach him something else, so that he could then surprise the Reader with it. In response, the Reader showed him recipes for sweets and even tried to learn how to cook something not so sweet that Alastor would like it.
Sry if my eng is too bad It's not my first language yeah...
Part. 2 let's dig into it!
 Alastor has PTSD from his father's beating. But he still craves your touches which confuse him. Why did his body tense when you wanted to touch him although he wanted you to hug him. He tried to be strong but you felt it and asked him if he was okay. He did lie, telling you that he hurted himself sometimes when he went out hunting with his fathers and some wounds could still be painful. He never told you it hurted him, just that they might re-opened themselves. And you knew Alastor was too prideful to say to you “ I’m hurting.” so one day you went toward him with a ring that you made out of a flower. You told him that when he was hurting he had to wear the ring so you wouldn’t touch him. It was both difficult for both of you, Alastor wanted you to touch him even though his body didn’t want you to touch him. And you, you wanted to hold him but you had to hold back. 
Of course, once your parents accepted that, you would run toward Alastor’s house as fast as you could without saying goodbye to your school’s friends. The first time you did, Alastor wasn’t home yet so you stayed with Marie who spoiled you. You hid yourself when Marie told you Alastor was coming. You hid behind his bedroom’s door and then jumped on his back screaming “ Welcome back”. You never saw Alastor so surprised but he quickly smiled as he teased you about how “you couldn’t stay away from him”.  Of course, once you told him you would come every day he put you down and gave you the days you could come without meeting his Father. He didn’t want you to run into his father. And if one day you wanted to surprise Alastor and went to his place on an unusual day and you found yourself in front of his father… Trust me that when Alastor came back from school and saw you in the living room, sitting on the sofa with his father smoking while staring at you, he almost vomited from dread. He tugged you to his bedroom, checking if you were injured before scolding you. If you happened to cry, he would hug you but not apologize. The next day, you were surprised to see Alastor waiting for you in front of your house!
Of course Alastor is stronger than you. Since the beginning he would easily pin you on the floor or maintain you at arms length if you were being too clingy. But indeed, if you did hurt yourself and couldn’t walk he would carry you on his back, even if his wounds were still hurting. In his teens years, he would sometimes lift you in the air, loving how free you looked. You were free, but in his arms. Perfect. In his adult years? Mhn.. We will see later~
Cooking is important for Alastor, it’s sharing something he took time and care to make. He sometimes laughed at you when you couldn’t handle a spicy dish his mother gave you. But each time, you wanted to eat something new, so he would ask his mother for more dishes, even dessert if it meant seeing you smile because he cooked for you.
Don't worry dear, english isn't my mother language either ! You are doing well!
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frostyhelltime · 1 day
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hihi!! i love your work, i was wondering if i could request hazbin hotel characters x male or GN socially awkward reader who stutters a lot? preferably the characters angel dust, husk, vox, and velvette please, thank you in advance! you don't have to do it if you don't want to ofc, take your time and stay safe :D
Aaaaaaaaa this is such a cute prompt! I would be glad to Nonnie!! Also love that Velvette is in here too. Love her but she's not quite as popular as some other characters so I was super excited to see your request!
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Did I Stutter?
Ft. Angel Dust, Husk, Vox, and Velvette x male!reader
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Angel Dust
Is genuinely trying his best to be kind to his boyfriend, really.
And he succeeds most of the time, but there was definitely a learning curve at the beginning of the relationship.
The awkwardness Angel didn't mind at all. Just thought you were that smitten with him that you got tongue-tied and acted a little awkward because he was just that hot.
However as the relationship progressed and you continued to stutter and are still a little awkward he brings it up.
Once he realizes that's just how you are he's a little dismayed that it wasn't him that made you do it. But doesn't mind it once he gets over that.
He's one of the more patient ones, for sure. When you have trouble getting something out he doesn't make a big deal of it or draw attention to your stutter, he just keeps his face normal and neutral as he patiently waits for you to finish, like you aren't struggling for words.
It actually helps a lot because you don't feel the pressure to get it right and get it right fast that you feel with others.
Although he does have a habit sometimes of intentionally riling you up or being extra seductive with you to worsen your stutter because he thinks it's cute when you stutter his name with wide eyes like that.
"Ya know we've been together awhile now, right? Ya don't have to be so nervous around me all the time. I mean the stutter is cute and it's adorable when ya trip over your words, and I know I'm hot, but I'm starting ta wonder if you're ever going to get used to me." Angel Dust laughs as the two of you walk through Pentagram City, Angel walking beside you. He has one of his hands holding yours, and the other wrapped protectively around your shoulders as you make your way through the streets.
A rare day off and all he wants is to spend it with you to recharge himself.
You huff a moment, trying to think of how to explain it. You hadn't realized he thought it was a nervous habit and not just...what you do.
"T-This is....h-how I normally talk." You eventually get out, speaking slowly to try and reduce the rate at which you stutter.
At that Angel Dust stops and frowns and you're worried that perhaps this quirk of yours is too much for him to deal with now that he knows it isn't temporary. But he just pouts and looks at you as he starts walking again.
"It isn't because I'm super hot? Ugh. How disappointin." He huffs, throwing his head back and looking up at the sky a moment.
"Ya lucky you're so cute. I'll pretend not to be sad that you weren't swooning over me this whole time." Angel Dust looks back down at him.
But in a rare show of courage, his boyfriend clears his throat and forces out something a little bolder than usual.
"W-Who said I w-wasn't?" A coy grin on his face just made Angel stop a moment again, eyes wide as he processed what he had said.
"Ya can't just surprise me with that kind of smooth shit when I'm not expecting it." He grumbles, but from how affectionately Angel grips his hand just a little tighter it's clear he's not actually upset.
He'll just get him back later tonight. He may not be the cause of the stutter, but he knows how to make it worse when he gets a little to close to him, hands running over his body as he whispers to him.
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Husk
Another one who is also very understanding.
Literally never once brings it up.
When he figures out that's just how you talk, he shrugs it off.
But he does think it's cute when you stutter on his name when you're trying to get his attention.
But he'll keep that to himself.
When you're struggling he actually makes it really easy on you, busying himself with menial work behind the bar: Organizing bottles, messing around with a new cocktail he had an idea for, cleaning glasses. Whatever he can find so he isn't looking at you, but still waits patiently for you to speak. Him not staring at you, waiting for you to get the words out was actually really helpful.
He also doesn't mind the social awkward aspect. He's not exactly a social butterfly himself, or a people person.
Besides, he's served plenty of awkward people who relax a bit when they have some liquid courage. So those types of people never bothered him.
"A-A-And do you k-know what that, that, t-that- UGH." Husk's boyfriend shouts in frustration eventually. Husk looks over as you lay your head down on the bartop in frustration.
Husk just grabs a glass and pulls out a few bottles, busying himself with making...some sort of new concoction.
"Take your time." Is all he says, the only acknowledgement he gave that he recognized you were struggling.
He's purposefully not looking at you, letting you take a moment to calm and collect yourself without feeling the pressure.
You take a deep breath and try again, speaking slower this time so your upset doesn't make it worse.
"W-Wanna know....what that a-asshole said?" You eventually get out as he pushes the finished drink towards you to try.
"Oh I'm real curious." Husk says plainly, and to others around he might sound only as interested as a bartender normally is in their patrons sob stories. But you can hear in his undertone he does actually want to know.
"H-He said, w-with that cheap o-o-outfit, he's surpr-prised I, I, I...can even afford a drink!" You throw your hands up as you finally finish lamenting about the jerk you met last night when you decided to go clubbing with Angel Dust and Cherri.
Husk frowns a moment at the insult, not liking that he wasn't there to correct the guy. But he can at least settle for making you laugh as you take the first few sips.
He leans forward then, his elbows on the bartop as he lays his head in one hand and looks at you.
"You don't need to afford any drinks. You're fucking the bartender. You get 'em free." He smirks, holding back a laugh as he watches you almost immediately spit out that first sip, and watches you laugh for the first time since you sat down here in such a foul mood.
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Vox
Surprisingly, genuinely the most empathetic about the whole thing.
When you first started dating him, he tried to help you. Lots of famous orators had stutters and they overcame them!
But he realizes eventually you don't want him to be so focused on fixing it, just help you get through it when it gets frustrating.
Once you get past that miscommunication, it's a lot smoother.
If you're struggling exceptionally bad he just pulls out his phone and hands it to you in a non-chalant manner so as not to draw attention to you, to let you type what you want to try and get across to him.
Genuinely scrubs social media down there of any shit-talking he sees people might do about 'Vox's stuttering mess of a boyfriend'. He controls pretty much all of it anyway. So it isn't the hardest thing.
He doesn't want you to see what some stranger who isn't worth anything is saying about you if it might make you feel bad.
The reason he is the most empathetic is because he does also have a tendency to stutter too, technically. When he glitches out, he can often stutter or repeat words and it's always intensely frustrating to him because it shows someone how he's feeling an intense enough emotion to glitch out like that.
Always does his best to retain as much control as he can when he glitches because of this, but when it's just the two of you he doesn't...really mind if you hear his computer equivalent of stuttering.
"S-S-Stupid FUCKING Val!" Vox yells as he throws some stupid object on his desk against the wall, narrowly missing you when you walk in to see him. His normal bright blue face is a bright and angry red and Vox is immediately simmering down, eyes wide when he realizes he almost nailed you with it. What had he even thrown? His eyes glance down and he sees it was a stapler and he winces. Yeah, with his strength and throwing that, that could have done a lot of damage if it had connected.
"S-Sh----iiit! I-I'm sorry!"
But Vox's boyfriend doesn't even seem bothered, just jogging over to him quickly and holding his hands, using his thumbs to rub circles on Vox's palms. Clearly trying to calm him down and...damnit it's working. The red begins to fade to blue once again as Vox lets out a deep sigh.
"W-What happened?" You ask him curiously, looking up at him.
"Fucking VAL happened, of course. Ripped apart one of my best news anchors because he found out they were fucking one of his favorites and he doesn't like to share. Now I gotta find someone else who is just as good or I'll be running the 6 o'clock segment until I do." Vox grumbles. He could just slap someone in there of course, but he hadn't built VoxTek into what it was today by accepting second best.
You tug him down, him eventually getting the message and leaning down to be within your reach more. You lean forward and gently place an affectionate kiss on his screen.
"H-How about....I or-or-order food to-to go? W-We'll sit here and...look at c-candidates." You suggest and Vox's face softens again, glad that although Val had ruined his nice relaxing dinner date with you, that he at least still got to spend time with you. Val couldn't ruin his night at least, it seems.
Vox smiles again, his normal exuberant and charismatic showman personality back on full display as he feels better with a plan in place.
"Hey I could always say screw it and let you have a whack at it." He teases, not even feeling bad about the cute look of panic in your eyes as you immediately shake your head no. He can't help but laugh and quickly shakes his own head.
"Kidding! Kidding! I want to still have a boyfriend by the end of tonight." He chuckles, earning him a gentle hit to his shoulder from you at his joke.
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Velvette
Admittedly...the least kind about it...at first anyway.
She has little patience or time for things in general. So a stutter was actually a little aggravating to her at first. Until she realized one day she kinda thought it sounded a little cute coming from you.
It was something unique about you, and hey, fashion is all about being unique.
She almost certainly did make fun of you in the beginning before she developed feelings, and whenever Val or Vox bring it up to tease her about it, she winces.
Yeah....not something she's proud of now that she actually likes you and is dating you.
But once she gets past that hump, she's pretty accomodating...sometimes a little too much even.
But her heart is in the right place.
The easiest way she accomodates you is having a lot of conversations over text. Which isn't even an adjustment for her.
Plus it means she can re-read all your sweet words to cheer her up when Val fucks up her best model again. She thinks the world would be more peaceful is someone just fucking castrated him or something...
One of the ways she tries to be helpful and sweet to you but actually makes it worse is when you're trying to talk in a group of people, and when you start to have trouble, sometimes someone just starts to talk over you to move the conversation along.
And then she frowns, cocking her hips to the side with her hands on them.
"Uh? Excuse me. He wasn't done talking, yeah?" She shuts them up, giving you back the floor as your cheeks flush.
But now all the attention is on you and it makes it worse.
But her heart is in the right place, like I said.
She also doesn't care about the social awkwardness.
In her words "Doesn't matter how you are in real life, no one has to know if you don't post it online."
Plus, you're with her. She's plenty adept enough to navigate any social situations you have trouble with.
She's a bit tired of Vox talking over you while you all sat around and had cocktails with dinner. She knows it's in his nature, but that doesn't piss her off any less whenever she sees you sigh and give up on trying to say whatever it is you were trying to say.
"Oy, Box Brain! I know you love the sound of hearing yourself talk, but how about you let someone else get a word in edgewise, yeah?" She's not even trying to hide her annoyance and Vox just rolls his eyes.
"Don't you fucking roll your eyes at me! I'll start fucking up the signal of all your broadcasts if you don't shut the fuck up and let someone else talk!" She's getting just a bit more heated now, narrowing her eyes. You grimace and lean over, placing a hand on her arm to try and show that it's really okay. You loved that she fought so passionately for you...but not everything needed to be a battle.
Vox leans forward himself now, while Valentino just leans back, blowing out smoke and enjoying the show with an amused grin on his face. You certainly couldn't count on him to break this up.
"You wouldn't dare." Vox says with narrowed eyes himself, face closer to hers, and she snaps back at him without thinking.
"Did I fucking stutter?!"
Valentino is the first one to register the hilarity of what slipped out of Velvette's mouth, and he's almost spilling his cocktail from laughing so hard. It's only when he starts laughing that she realizes what she said and feels embaressment wash over her as she turns to you with wide eyes.
"Babes, I didn't mean-"
But you stop her before she can finish, smiling assuringly at her and rubbing her arm.
"I-It's okay....You gotta a-admit...It was pr-pretty funny." You laugh a bit yourself, and only when she sees you laugh does the tension leave her shoulders. She still feels embaressed...but at least you weren't upset.
"Hey, stop fucking laughing you two. It wasn't that funny." Velvette grumbles, hiding her face behind her cocktail as she takes a sip, feeling you press a kiss to her cheek to try and make her feel better as Vox and Valentino continue to enjoy Velvette's mistake.
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seramilla · 3 days
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Okay Vaggies emotional turmoil I 100% understand and I am LIVING for the angst but can we touch on Carmilla, Clara, and Odette? They just learned that their daughter and sister, their BABY sister is not only alive but also a full grown adult at this time.
They missed everything. All of her firsts and all her heart breaks. They weren’t there when she needed advice. Or for any of her awkward questions. They missed getting to grow up with her. Getting to raise her. Getting to know her. I KNOW they want some way to get that family back together.
And she missed having a family. Having anyone. Unless you count the exorcist cause in a way they are her sisters.
Either way more angst for your mind. And if you write about it more content for me to consume.
Carmilla does meet Vaggie at the door to her compound this time, just as she'd promised. When the angel arrives, the district of warehouses and workers loading and unloading trucks is deserted. The street is still empty and eerily quiet. Vaggie suspects Carmilla’s people are still stocking up from the Extermination. Not much manufacturing to be done while fresh angelic weapons are still lining the streets, waiting to be salvaged.
Vaggie doesn’t even need to buzz the door — as soon as she comes within sight of the camera, the door lifts, and Carmilla is standing there. Just as tall and intimidating as ever, especially compared to her, but her eyes communicate the exact opposite of the impatience they had the last time she'd been here. Now, she really seems like she’s trying to see Vaggie, see into her, instead of like the intruder she'd been before. Vaggie shifts between her feet awkwardly.
“Umm, hi, Carmilla,” Vaggie says, making a waving motion with her hand. What was that, idiot?! Vaggie screams at herself. Why are you such a fucking putz?
"Hello, dear," Carmilla greets her, warm and inviting and so unlike that fierce warrior that taught her all that fancy footwork a week prior. Now she's looking at the angel like she has something to prove. "I'm glad to see you again. Would you come in?"
"Yeah." Vaggie agrees, rubbing the back of her head nervously, and following her inside. The warehouse is just as dark and depressing as the last time she'd been here, and just as empty. No one else is around, and Vaggie wonders why Carmilla is here on her own.
They don't go far. A short trip up the elaborate staircase, and Carmilla turns them toward a small office space at the very top. She opens the door, letting the little angel head inside first, before entering herself and turning on a light. It's much more inviting in here, with big windows and lots of natural light. The space is meant to look like a small apartment, maybe one Carmilla stays in when she's overseeing her workers. A futon and coffee table sit in the corner, with an industrial-sized desk on the other side of the room, covered with papers.
"Sit anywhere you'd like, dear," Carmilla instructs. There's really only one place to sit, other than Carmilla's big executive office chair, so Vaggie takes one edge of the futon. Suddenly, Carmilla reappears with two cups of tea in her hand. She gives one to Vaggie. "I made some tea for your arrival. Hope you like chamomile."
"Th-thank you," Vaggie says, taking her cup. She doesn't drink right away, just rubs her fingers against the rough ceramic surface for a moment, before finally taking a sip. Carmilla sits on the opposite end of the futon beside her. Both women just co-exist in the space for a while, letting the silence permeate, unsure of where to begin. Ultimately, it's Vaggie who breaks the silence.
"I was hoping I could talk to you about...the other day," Vaggie admits, still not able to meet Carmilla's gaze. Carmilla doesn't have that problem. She's staring straight at Vaggie, overly hopeful, fighting the urge to reach over to her, and grasp her shoulder. Vaggie notices the subtle shift in her movement, like she's trying to hold herself back. She smiles...it's a sad smile. One that speaks of unspoken feelings rather than genuine happiness. Vaggie wants that to change. Why is this so difficult?
"It's okay," Vaggie says, finally able to look Carmilla in the eye. "I'm not really a touchy-feely person, except with Charlie. But you can hug me, if you want."
Carmilla had gotten so used to doing it that first day in the hospital. Vaggie can tell she wants to do it again. They'd both been so confused, and desperate for one another's affection. Leaning toward Vaggie slowly, so as not to scare her away, Carmilla scooches closer to her on the futon, and puts one arm around the angel.
Like she'd said, Vaggie is not normally a touchy person, except with Charlie. She gets the impression Carmilla isn't either, except with her daughters. Even so, Vaggie turns her small body into the older woman, and falls into her embrace. Carmilla moves in even closer, short of wrapping herself around the girl again, and starts stroking her long hair, like she'd done at the hospital. It had helped calm Vaggie down then.
For some reason, the movement sets Vaggie off this time, and she struggles so badly not to cry. Pushing away slightly, she rubs her good eye with the back of her hand, embarrassed.
"I'm sorry," Vaggie says, ashamed at how easily she crumbles in front of this woman. She's normally made of better stuff than this. "I didn't come here to do this again. I really wanted to talk."
Vaggie keeps rubbing at her good eye, and then at her eyepatch, as if it's hurting her. She does so until the skin on her face and arm starts to turn red and raw. Carmilla pulls Vaggie's arm away, placing it between them in her lap.
"Don't." Carmilla says, squeezing Vaggie's hand. "Don't hurt yourself. I've been doing a lot of that the last few days, too. It's okay. You don't have to hide it."
"It's not okay!" Vaggie exclaims, getting frustrated with herself again. "I came here to ask questions, and maybe give you answers, too. This isn't how it was supposed to go."
"We've got time," Carmilla says, pulling her closer again. Vaggie is thankful for it. At least she can hide her embarrassment in Carmilla's chest, where she doesn't have to acknowledge her tears. "We can just sit here, and talk some more. We can do whatever you want."
Then, hesitating, not sure if Vaggie is ready yet, but Carmilla adds the caveat anyway, "My daugh--Odette and Clara will be here shortly. They've been out gathering supplies. You don't have to, but would you...want to meet them?"
Vaggie remembers Carmilla's other girls. They'd delivered Sir Pentious' weapons that day, when he still found everyone at the hotel so untrustworthy. She'd never given the two women much thought before at all, but admittedly, she is very curious now. She doesn't know what they will make of her...but if they're also family, if there's something she can learn about her would-have-been life from before...there's a part of her that really wants to know.
"Would they...be okay with that?" Vaggie asks. "Do they even know about me?"
"They know about you, yes," Carmilla answers. "I can't...say with certainty how they'll react. They are their own people. But if we want to try and make this work...?"
Carmilla leaves the statement open-ended. Vaggie gets it. These one-on-one rendezvous with Carmilla could go on ad nauseam, and a part of her is okay with that...but another part really wants to know all the extended members of her family. She's not unfamiliar with having sisters before. In a sense, all the Exorcists had been her sisters. They worked together, and trained together. Made small talk, and had each other's backs (most of the time). Maybe this wouldn't be much different.
"Yeah," Vaggie says, acknowledging what Carmilla had been trying to convey before. It won't be easy, but...maybe it's another step they can take together. "I am nervous, but...I'd like to meet them. If that's okay with you."
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elffees · 2 days
Text
How Fragile Allyship is Portrayed in Frontiers of Pandora
So I really love this audio log from Priya and needed to talk about it. This entire post will be based on this log.
Transcript:
"I ... it's Priya. Obviously. I don't know what day it is. Nothing makes sense... Alma's dead. Alma. Is. Dead.
Oh wow. That's weird. But you know what the really weird, screwy part is? There's this whole other Alma just walking around. Except she's not blue and she's got tiny eyes. Do we all have such tiny eyes? I just ... I feel like good Alma was killed. And we're left with this other one who everyone hates. But really it's the same person. Or is it?
I don't know what to think. I'm not really the one for existential crises, but this is a real brain-breaker. And I'm ... I'm sad. My friend died. No. No. She was murdered. I know she did some bad things, but Nor had no right. I'm glad he's gone. Maybe he's glad too. He never liked it here. Never liked us. Humans.
But we're trying to help. Alma was trying to help. She was protecting them. She tried. Right? Mercer's the bad one. That's all I know for sure. And that other Alma... she wants to hang out, just like old times. But... she's not my friend. Not— I think I hear someone. Signing off."
This audio log can be found in the Resistance Hideout.
I really like this log because it encapsulates the different ways allies & marginalized peoples view and are affected by certain situations.
Disclaimer before I start: I am not saying Priya is a bad person, nor am I saying allies are bad people.
For starters, I can understand why Priya, and likely other Resistance members, have mixed feelings towards Alma. It's a very complex situation. So Priya regarding it as "weird" and being at a complete loss makes sense.
What I want to focus on in this post are the last 3 paragraphs. Where she expresses confusion and hurt because "Good Alma was murdered".
I think this right here is a very well written distinction on how allies and the marginalized communities they assist experience situations differently.
Alma's Reveal
Everyone had their worlds turned upside down when Alma confessed the full extent of her actions in TAP. Alma admits that her avatar was a tool for manipulation. Although she may care for the Sarentu children now, for the majority of their relationship, from the genocide, to TAP, to being frozen and left behind, Alma's avatar was a tool to manipulate and coerce Na'vi into viewing her (and by extension TAP, then later the Resistance) as "one of them". As someone to trust and relate to. The purpose of her having an avatar was to act as a golden ticket into Na'vi society.
Alma was not "murdered". There is no "good" or even "bad" Alma. There is only Alma.
The human who played a role in the massacre of a clan, then manipulated its survivors for years, then left them behind to remain in stasis for nearly 2 more decades.
Who is also the human who founded the Western Resistance and tried to band together several Na'vi clans to protect Pandora, who encouraged the Sarentu to reclaim their culture and customs the ones that didn't expose her ofc, and who helped rid Pandora of cackling narcissist John Mercer.
There is only ONE Alma that has done all of these things.
Alma was not "murdered". Her tool of manipulation was destroyed. The object, the mask, the weapon that gave Alma her power and confidence and that helped her fool not only the Sarentu, not only the Resistance, but also herself into thinking she was something she was not, was taken from her.
Alma was not murdered. She was thrust back into reality.
And so, Priya's last 3 paragraphs interest me. It's completely fine that she mourns the image of who she thought Alma was. In a way I think the Sarentu (sans Nor) do as well. Everyone thought Alma was just a good person who only wanted to help with no ulterior motives. It's painful to realize that was far from the case.
But then Priya goes on to hate Nor. She spits his name out like a curse. Glad he's gone because "he never liked them anyway". That he had no right to "murder" Alma because she only did a few "bad things".
There's a lot to unpack there.
Priya's Blaming of Nor & It's Ties to Fragile Allyship
I want to break down the lines one by one.
She was murdered. I know she did some bad things, but Nor had no right.
For starters, it is EXTREMELY COMMON for allies of marginalized communities to "insert their two cents" on a delicate topic. More often than not when there is inter-community issues, allies have a tendency to say the phrase: "I'm [insert demographic] so take what I'm saying with a grain of salt, BUT I think..." Any and all oppressed classes have heard this phrase from MILLIONS of allies before.
The FOP writers did remarkably well at capturing what allyship looks like when writing the Resistance. Because Priya, as a human formerly part of the oppressive group trying to wipe out the Na'vi and Pandoran wildlife, fully believes she can judge whether Nor had a right or not.
It's not her call.
She cannot determine whether Nor was justified or not because she, as someone part of the privileged class in the world of the game, has never suffered from the harm that Alma's avatar has caused.
She, and none of the Resistance members, were raised by Alma's avatar.
They were not lied to by Alma's avatar for YEARS about the true fate of their families and loved ones.
They were not encouraged to view Alma as a mother-figure or nurturing teacher or beloved caretaker, when she was actually just eager for fame and success.
They were not put into cryosleep and then left behind for 16 MORE YEARS with suspicions that this abandonment was an intentional coverup.
They did not suffer any of that.
They saw her as the leader of the Resistance and as a friend, which does cause an impactful betrayal of course, but Alma's avatar never tried to force them to see her as family. As someone to love.
While Priya only says all this in a private audio log and thankfully doesn't say it to any of the Sarentu or god forbid So'lek, these are her thoughts. The simple fact she believes she can judge Nor, that she has the capacity and authority to scold one of the main victims, is a reoccurring feature of privileged allies who struggle to realize that they cannot relate or ever fully understand how marginalized communities experience oppression.
Priya says Nor had "no right" to "murder" Alma. When truthfully, Priya has no right to judge how the Sarentu feel and respond.
I'm glad he's gone. Maybe he's glad too. He never liked it here. Never liked us. Humans.
After Priya attempts to place judgement on Nor's actions, she then dives deeper.
She is glad Nor is gone. Not ONLY because of what he did to Alma's avatar. No. She is also glad he's gone because Nor was not friendly.
Another prime instance of fragile allyship is that allies tend to believe that marginalized people are only worth their sympathy if they're likeable.
This has a lot ties to the "Perfect Victim" concept.
Because Nor was not friendly, because his trauma caused him to distrust humans and he did not quickly get over it and befriend Resistance members, he is undeserving of as much sympathy as the other Sarentu.
It's seen as a positive that he's gone (despite the fact he ran away in clear emotional distress.) Not just because of what he did to Alma's avatar, but because now Priya and the Resistance no longer have to assist someone that's "ungrateful" and "not as nice" as they should be.
The purpose of being an ally is to help oppressed classes survive against circumstances that would otherwise have them discriminated against or have them dead. Being a truly good ally should not hinder on whether the person is "likeable" or "grateful" for their services. But sadly, in the real world, that is one of the most common "conditions" a LOT of allies have when it comes to offering support. How much they like the person or groups they claim to want to help.
Allyship is more often than not based on likeability, rather than morality.
But we're trying to help. Alma was trying to help. She tried. Right?
Another feature of fragile allyship is the tendency to change sides.
Priya agrees that what Alma did was wrong. She understands that.
But because of the simple fact that Alma is human, Priya not only relates but tries to defend Alma's actions. Seeing herself in Alma is understandable because they are both human and were friends. The problem comes when Priya begins to project and defend Alma's actions.
It doesn't matter that by her own admission Alma's main goals were fame and achievement. It doesn't matter how much the Sarentu are hurt by her actions. It doesn't matter that Nor was outraged. It doesn't matter that even calm and collected Ri'nela was disgusted. It doesn't matter HOW the Sarentu, as the direct victims, feel about Alma's actions. It doesn't matter that intent ≠ impact.
Alma is human like Priya, so from Priya's POV, Alma's 'intentions' hold more value than how the Sarentu were impacted. "We're" trying to help. Alma was trying to help. So her actions can't have been that bad. Right?
Mercer's the bad one. That's all I know for sure.
And finally, this is another feature of how allies tend to respond to things.
Of the two, Mercer is the one who unabashedly committed the massacre and oppressed the Sarentu for years. Mercer is "the bad one" because his actions are overt. They are clear cut, obvious, and maniacally evil.
When real world marginalized groups face microaggressions or covert prejudice, allies have a tendency to step in and defend the offender. "Hm, I don't think that was racist." "Are you sure that's homophobic?" "It's just a word. I don't see how it can be ableist to say." - "It's not like it's really hurting anyone."
When oppression is not as clear cut to allies, they tend to dismiss it entirely. It doesn't matter how the victims feel about the situation. As discussed earlier in the post, allies tend to think they have the authority and capability to make judgements on prejudice they do not face, and ergo believe they can determine how "bad" something really is. Better than the marginalized class can themselves.
In Priya's eyes, Alma is better than Mercer because Mercer's oppression was harsh yelling, explosions, and murder. "Mercer's the bad one" while Alma was "only trying to help."
But in truth, both Mercer and Alma have done and continued to do harmful things. They both played a part in the decimation and continued manipulation of the Sarentu. Both for their own selfish purposes.
Oppression has many faces. It does not always look the same, it is not always a mustache twirling villain. It can be subtle and quiet. It can be hidden behind gentle eyes and smiles. It can be from "good intentions" just as easily as it comes from "bad intentions". It can be subconscious, it can be self aware, it can be secretive, it can be out in the open. It can be many things. There is not only "one bad" style.
Oppression is just as diverse as the communities it aims to harm.
Conclusion
I want to reiterate that I do not dislike Priya and this post isn't a hate campaign against her. I know many dudebros in the fanbase unfairly criticize her.
The point of this post is to applaud the FOP writers. It is very rare when mainstream media is able to accurately depict how fragile allyship is. Priya's reaction to Nor stabbing Alma's avatar is painfully realistic to the many ways allies have reacted to certain situations in the real world.
This is one of the many reasons why I love this game and feel it hits home. Not only can I relate to the Na'vi clans, but my god can I relate to the way allies are written in relation to them. And I feel like this audio log from Priya, while brief and easily missable, is one of the prime moments of realism this game portrays really well.
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tothepointofinsanity · 7 months
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what are your thoughts on Madoka and Sayaka's relationship? I always thought it was underrated for how complex and tragic it is.
Madoka and Sayaka's relationship function similarly to that of a knight and a princess, so both their friendship or couple pairing are interesting to me. It seems to be intentional that Sayaka was crafted with a knight motif in mind to click with Madoka's vulnerability. The tragedy is that Sayaka was way too young and inexperienced to be shouldering such expectations in a friendship. Taking up the role of a protector at every turn because she wanted to protect everyone has always been a contributing factor to how fast Sayaka burned out.
Contrarily, Madoka's struggle with her own helplessness throughout the show was also part of the reason why Sayaka said a lot of terrible thing to her, but deeply regretted her actions to the point where she succumbed to Witching out away from Madoka. Madoka, at least in this "final" timeline, was not there to see her own childhood best friend change into something else. To, in a way, "die", and be reborn as the same monster that all magical girls were hunting after in a frenzy. Homura was right that Sayaka brings Madoka grief — it seems that in almost timeline, since Sayaka becomes a Witch as long as she becomes a magical girl unlike Mami or Kyoko, Sayaka is a consistent source of Madoka's grief. Whenever Madoka becomes a magical girl, then, her aspirations are based on Sayaka's sacrifice and ideals, except Madoka actually has the power to "save everyone". I believe Madoka loved Sayaka as Sayaka may not have been an "effective" magical girl, but she was the one who was willing to sacrifice her soul for her ideals, regardless of how naïve they were. To Madoka, who was so ensnared by her sense of uselessness, Sayaka was the closest thing to an idol or a star for the courage required to be a magical girl. Sayaka's desire to make the world a safer and justified place for people was so inspiring to Madoka that even when Madoka becomes Kriemhild Gretchen, the Witch's whole gimmick is "creating heaven on earth, a Witch content only if there is no more grief in existence". A prospect deeply held onto by Madoka that even Gretchen embodies it.
It's probably why Madoka's wish to save all magical girls would definitely sound equally impossible to he audience and the incubators, but Madoka herself says, "If someone says it's wrong to hope, I will tell them that they're wrong every time." Sayaka was often called foolish for her ideals and hopes, and Madoka was the only other person aside from Kyoko who understands Sayaka's struggles so much that she outright tells people that Sayaka was never wrong — this is how Madoka protects Sayaka. Madoka would never want anyone to say any of the magical girls' wishes were wrong or foolish. It was how Sayaka also found her peace at the end of the show: to be understood and not viewed as an object that would eventually be replaced in the cycle of magical girls and Witches.
Madoka and Sayaka eventually learned how to protect each other. Sayaka doesn't need to suffer from her own overbearing expectations anymore, and Madoka can finally be something even more to protect her angel: A God.
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winepresswrath · 9 months
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I do gotta say tho, even tho I’m mad at aziraphale because he’s being a terrible boyfriend like what you said about the “I forgive you like” because WHAT. But also I really like the way the show really demonstrates the underlying cruelty of heaven and it’s angels. Really shows the hypocrisy of a group of beings who are supposed to do good, especially aziraphale who really buys into the heaven propaganda, who hurts people, particularly the person who means the most to him. Because like you said he fully just takes advantage of that devotion Crowley has for him. Insane, this shwo makes me INSANE
I missed this anon and yeah! The angels were one of my favourite parts of the season, and I think the strongest element aside from Neil Gaiman deciding he's just a simple man who wants to put his otp in situations. They are deeply awful and I kind of love them. They are the exact kind of moralizing hypocrites who are callous and cruel precisely because they think being on team good means everything they do is justified and it's actually impossible for them to be in the wrong (they're angels! is it even possible for them to do the wrong thing?).
but!! To me, they also seem like they're basically kids? Obviously they're not literally children, but there is this very consistent reoccurring joke about how childish/sheltered/immature they are. Muriel is the most obvious example, but the archangels come off like bratty twelve year olds to her sweet little kid.
Gabriel is basically teenager in love flipping off his family as he runs away with his backstreet guy. Uriel is constantly picking at Michael, Michael is playing at being in charge like it's a game, and it's ridiculously easy for both Aziraphale and Crowely to trick them obvious half assed lies. They're not allowed to ask questions! The Metatron treats them like badly behaved kids out past their curfew. At any point an old man with a beard may pop up to scold them and send them home, and they're all scared of doing something wrong by his standards and getting in trouble with this guy who is pointedly not God but who lines up exactly with the pop-culture idea of god the father, and who offers Aziraphale, among other things, a respite from the hard work of figuring out what the right thing to do is for himself. It's fine! You don't have to question the belief system you were born into or make a painful break with everything you've ever known! Aziraphale has had six thousand years on earth to grow up, but the other angels have been sitting in a sterile white box playing "i'm not touching you" games with each other and filing paperwork.
And I think that's extra interesting because this season also really emphasizes:
Heaven has Institutional Problems
Aziraphale isn't the only angel who's unhappy in heaven. Gabriel and Muriel were both completely miserable. They just didn't understand that they were unhappy because they'd never experienced anything else.
Angels who aren't Aziraphale can change and grow! There's very explicitly Gabriel being changed by love and Muriel growing up a bit on earth, and from a more fan-theory angle there's also Jimbriel, who I think is probably basically Gabriel minus the war and six thousand years of playing referee for Michael and Uriel while unleashing an assortment of plague and calamities on earth because that's God's will! Buck up champ.
We also get Gabriel and Beezelebub talking about how their underlings basically live for Armageddon, "if you can call that living." This is so bleak. They've all been on a six thousand year time out just dreaming of the day they get to beat the shit out of each other until they feel better, but it won't work because eternity is just more of the box.
Anyway I think it's going in a distinctly eden adjacent direction. Aziraphale is going to tempt those angels with knowledge and the capacity for change. I have veered so far from your ask anon i'm sorry you're right heaven really went all out on sucking this season & while Crowley and Aziraphale are both fucking it up Crowley refrains from being spectacularly cruel to Aziraphale about it and Aziraphale should learn to return the favour. I forgive you!! I forGIVE you. I forgive YOU. "you can be an angel again" is actually a worse thing to say than "you're a demon. i don't even like you." when he finally picks crowley over heaven i'm going to lose my mind.
#good omens spoilers#good omens season two spoilers#idk it makes me sad that i didn't like the humans very much this season because i think ideally they're central to this whole how to be#a person question i also hope we get to see more of hell next season because i do think they're stuck in basically the same place#with a different aesthetic! and the stick being#thrown into a torture pit instead of thrown into hell#or like. mindwiped and locked in an office for all eternity#gabriel broke my heart which is embarrassing but when he goes from not even understanding what music is to experiencing#the simple pleasure of sharing a song with someone for the very first time and almost immediately hits repeat for eternity... baby. baby bo#i would also like more crowley! this was very much the season of aziraphale#which is fine but i missed him yelling questions at god and the bits where it seemed he really wanted aziraphale's opinion instead of just#wanting aziraphale to develop better opinions#next season had better be crowley wrestles with the universe i am telling you!!!#remember three months ago when i was like eh... another good omens season#i bet it'll be cute but i'm content with my book#i don't go here i said strapping on my clown shoes#seriously though i do think crowley is scared to admit to wanting to be good both because god rejected him and he doesn't want#to be a sucker for her (he is only interested in being a sucker for aziraphale)#and like. chase after something he's barred from and has already been told isn't for him.#and that's why it's so hard for him to admit even to himself that he too would be unhappy ditching earth#in ways that parallel aziraphale's unwillingness to let go of heaven as a source of moral authority and goodness#but the way aziraphale goes oh no! i cannot trust my own judgement and desires. They are suspect!#my judgement is that crowley is good and also funny and sexy. my desires are for his company and also his body#therefore the source of these desires is also maybe bad. i mean he's a demon. he's got to be bad#right??? but no. but i saw him do a good thing. but maybe i didn't? I should probably take a stance on this.#and he makes this crowley's problem until the apocalypse but then the second he gets the chance to cram crowley and his feelings for him#back in a heaven approved box he jumps at it in a way that requires just being WILDLY insensitive and dismissive of crowley's feelings#he's not just being a dick about their relationship he is being a dick about crowley as a person. and he should know better but is choosing#not to because he wants the easy out so badly. anyway i love him he was my favourite character all season no notes#good omens
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running-in-the-dark · 2 months
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visited my mother again, this time only for an hour because I couldn't stand it any longer. she's so........ annoying (understatement of the fucking century)
everything is just miserable and awful and bad with her. I just wanted to give her some stuff because she's been trying painting recently and I had promised, but oh my god why does it always have to just be negative?? oh she's sooo bad at it and it's not fun and she doesn't understand the point if it's not for making money. just don't fucking do it then?? no one's forcing you!
which then obviously led to 'oh but you're so talented and you should make money from your art and blah blah blah'
yeah great I'll do that once I get over all the shit that she did that makes it so I can't even post my dumb art on here for like 5 people to see. great idea. fucking awesome.
she also decided she wants to be an influencer to make money :) that was a weird conversation.
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hopelesslovebug · 2 years
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Uh hi, could you draw Giorno and Fugo in masquerade style?
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sorry anon it's not colored but when you said masquerade my three braincells heat up at the spot
#also i'm tired#i like the designs and the idea i thought of..i will start working on it in the morning.i will also work on simplifying giorno's mask 'cuz#i made it way too complicated for noo reason at all. i also thought of like a quick plot#ok there is this masquerade (of course). i want you to imagine a fancier version of the mafia. the don invented almost all the mafia#into this masquerade with the promise that the one that would know his true identity will be the next don#but the catch that anyone getting way too close is probably going to be killed#weather diavolo doing it for shits and giggles or he is showing that he is truly worthy of the title don#is still up in debate in my mind. buccigang goes just because it's a fancy party (also because there is free food but shhhhhh)#giorno still didn't meet the buccigang yet in this au and he WILL become the new don#trish also still didn't meat the buccigang yet. she would go to one group to another dropping hints about her father identity#she really just wants him dead#she can't say his true identity out right or else she would be killed#and yeah#you know the most cliché murder mystery#it's just kyaaaaaa~ i love this plot since i was 6.i love it soo much. it makes me sad people don't do that often anymore#also put my fav kind of fugio. i mean yeah fugo fell but holy giorno is in a well#*fugo says the most strategic plan you could think of* gio:wow you're so smart darling can i kiss you now?#←didn't understand a single word from fugo#also i didn't say this but it's a masquerade no ones knows about the characters real identity#so they just go with there stands name.ok this is enough my mind is shutting down now#jjba#vento aureo#jjba part 5#pannacotta fugo#giorno giovanna#fugio#mine#my art#pt5
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my sister called me and kept asking excitedly that what's happening in my life and
#like life as in. i can't say love life but like you know what's happening with the guys and the girls#girl#and i was so tired#am so tired#i just made up an excuse that im too physically tired too talk to cut the call and told her id call her back but i won't#i want to okay i really do I want to hear about her life what's going on but she's not that type of person jinke saamne#i can just divert the topic from myself avoid talking about me she's determined and caring like that😭#just. kya batau main#i spent the whole day working but really if i stopped doing anything for like 2 minutes all the last convos i had with everyone i#liked loved whatever started replaying in my head constantly making me feel all down and sad in public yk that empty heaviness inside chest#i mean. what is there to say. i feel truly pathetic#everyone just keeps leaving me. they decide one day that oh nope she's not for me not interesting anymore doesn't understand is too much#draining and destroys my peace and then they leave#it doesn't even matter the weight of the relationship#whether it's been a year of being in love or two weeks of talking till 5 am or a week of wishing me good morning and good night#every day. it doesn't matter they leave and they leave and they leave and they don't look back and im left to pick up the pieces go on#pretend to be okay and normal and fucking focused on like. studying accounts as if my heart isn't breaking#into a million tiny pieces everytime#i don't know how to tell her. the sister you love so much the sister you can't live without imagine life without. the#sister who you thought about holding on for because you couldn't do that to her leave her alone when you had suicidal thoughts. she's#she's actually deeply unlovable undateable unfuckable and like truly lonely and easy to let go of#i know she loves me and i know my bestfriend loves me and she would fall apart if i wasn't there for her#but it's not enough. i really wish it was. but it's okay it's enough for now it's enough to keep me going it's enough to make me not wanna#die yk? like i don't love myself enough to live for myself get better for myself but they need me so i need to be okay be happy because i#need them to be happy. and they're happy when im happy#does that make sense#okay bye i should really start writing a diary
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thebleedingeffect · 25 days
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#okay I'm talking in the tags of this post cause shit is happening in my life and I gotta talk about it somewhere#one part of it is my step brother crashing and burning before my very eyes and there's nothing I can do to stop his own destructive actions#so it's just me watching this poor kid ruin his relationships and blame everything and everyone around him as he does so#despite the fact that he's undeniably been treated horribly at times- he's just turned that anger back onto others and himself#and I have no idea what to feel as I watch him get arrested. have drug problems. because I'm just waiting for the inevitable spiral#it doesn't help that my mom has been comparing us and saying that I'm the much better child and she wishes he was like me#not understanding that I could’ve been him if I was just more angry at the world at that age instead of being so sad and scared#and that leads me to my fucking mom cause like- I love her. we've been through alot of bad shit with her#I've almost done some really bad shit for her and I know that she loves me more than anything else#but it feels like its been getting more and more suffocating cause I'm not sure she's able to start seeing me as an adult#and start loosening her grip around me and let me breathe. to have my own experiences without her by my side#to be able to go places and imagine a future without her constantly by my side#she talks and it's like she doesn't even think to wonder that perhaps I want to form my own experiences#and experience the world on my own terms because I feel like I've spent my whole life having so little damn control#religious family. shit and neglectful father who turned into the exact opposite and nearly killed me. family who refuses to listen and talk#having to move and run immediately. put survival above all else. go to school. get out. and god I just wanna breathe#she loves me so much and I love her too. but I feel like I'll be sooner crushed if I stick here for long enough#I'm just mad that my life has been nothing but absolutely no love. sudden waves of intense love. absolutely nothing. sudden spike#and I feel like I'm just finally starting to form good. healthy relationships on my own terms and actually make friends#because I had no idea what I was doing when I was a kid cause I was so fucking lonely and hurting#now I just. gotta figure out how to tell my mom that I can't carry this expectation that I'll continue to stay forever by her side#it just feels like I'm her child first and a person second. and it sucks. it really sucks.#ough. spins and spins and spins and spins-
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both of my mom’s parents died when i was in middle school 2 years apart it was sad but all my mom’s family lives close by so like one of the worst parts of them dying was the selling of their home because it was the center of all family gatherings… but my dad’s mom literally lives 15 minutes away and all my dad’s siblings live out of state… so i spent a lot of my childhood with her and have the closest relationship with her of all her grandkids… (my sister being the second closest) with my other grandparents there really wasn’t a closest grandkid or at least i wasn’t it… my gramma is one of the closest relationships i have outside of my direct family (is that the term) and i always have a hard time dealing with my emotions and understanding feelings as an autistic person but this is really hard i cant process it and i don’t know how to and i guess i won’t really start until she passes in a few days but i just idk
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gatun-gatunesco · 8 months
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Fleabag
"People make mistakes... that is why they put a rubbers in the end of pencils"
#personal post#So i kind of forced myself to finish Fleabag season 1. Since the beginning i knew was not something i would see for pleasure#of course was very difficult as 1) i have become sex repulsed once again and 2) she is really fucked up. She needs a terapist#it was a recomendation from them and i knew i just see them in the character facing similar problems and similar way of thinking#the last episode hurts a lot and hurts me more after what happened between us. the decisions they made. the way it ended again#i know they wanted to talk about this. i shame myself once again as i was so late to do so. But yet again. i was right about my fears#about how i saw them reflected in her. how they were taking a similar bad road in life. how they mental illness was going to mess up all#after what happened with him. how they did not said anything. how they just give it all to please him and make a nice memory for him#after how they let him just go full gallop and basically let him use them in the most vulnerable moment so far...#i can only wish they learn. that they realize. that they finally could apply something from the life of another person. even if is fiction#after finishing this season. i can understand and let the anger that i had in me vanished just as fast as it came#but the sadness will remain. the event will remain. the need for me to stay away will remain. i can not help them anymore#it will only hurt me not being able to help. to feel powerless meanwhile i just see them going a downfall. mistake after mistake#i could not bear to see the person i cared the most being that fucked up and not try to help. but i already did that mistake. it finished u#my role as a caregiver is still so mixed within myself. as since my mistakes i would not force nor try anything without them doing it first#so. for them that are indecisive yet impulsive. that are people pleaser even when it hurt them deeply. naive with a gold heart#that want to be friends with all as they feel so lonely. Prisoners of they body and themselfs...#going that softly versus everyone else who is more assertive (even them in a impulsive moment) was not going to work just with words#but i can not do it in another way. i am more sensitive and delicate than one could guess just by looking at me. is not in my nature#forceful? nope. without caution? no. fast? no. i can not hold anger. i can not be unforgiving. Even when i always remember#i can still do damage. just not in a convetional way and is mostly involuntary. i am far from perfect but i am also far from terrible#i am a person who also had done mistakes. But being honest. excepting one i never did something so bad i could not forgive myself eventuall#and i say all this because even with all the pain that is forcing myself to stay away. i just hope they could find a healthy road again...#without the need to make more mistakes or do such things that they may not be able to fix or came back at all...#for them to not regret still being alive. to be happy in a good way without destroying themselfs#i just hope i can be able to see that one day. even if is just from far away and as a total stranger#because i like thing no one else would see and enjoy they beauty in they own unique way#vent post#vent tag#tw vent
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evansbby · 1 year
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I love the poyt series BUT PLS FOR THE LOVE OF GOD KILL STEVE OR ANYTHNG LIKE I SERIOUSLY HATE HIM. AND NO AMOUNT OF CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT CAN SAVE HIM. LIKE I WAS SEETHING IN THE LAST CHAPTER OF HOW QUICKLY WE JUST FORGIVE HIM??? LIKE TF it's always like this i'm sick of reading stories where the man lead does shitty things and the female forgives him for the bare minimum. PLS MAKE YOUR EXCELLENT FIC DIFF THAN OTHERS AND MAKE THAT MAN MISERABLE AND GIVE US A HAPPY ENDING NOT WITH HIM!! Thanks!
Your opinion is completely valid and I’m glad your so invested in the fic but please do trust me!
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likedaylighht · 10 months
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