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tentatechnologies · 2 years

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the thing is....and of course marlo is at the center of this conversation again, but i’m thinking about it; the difference in rome and ness’ understanding of them comes down to empathy, not compassion. both of them are like “okay, you hate yourself, and you’ve done bad things—but we don’t want you to die, so we’re gonna love you on purpose.” (that sentiment waxes and wanes because it’s really, really hard to love someone who goes out of their way to make you hate them, but that’s the core of it. is it healthy, or sustainable? not really! that’s on marlo, but they’re trying to provide a foundation for marlo to start building on and repairing themself. but point is they both recognize something in marlo worth loving, they do care, regardless of marlo’s inability to wrap their head around that.)

but the mode of it comes in their own understandings of marlo, or lack there-of. ness thinks he knows marlo well and he really does, watched their self-hatred and modern patterns of behavior develop in real time. marlo is a façade all the way down and he knows this, that very little of their ‘true nature’ remains, that ‘authenticity’ is really difficult for them now; and he very much understands how isolating an experience the campaign was, what a paradigm shift it was and how upsetting that can be. if it weren’t for the fact he was better at coping and wasn’t so heavily exposed (and also did not try to kill a few thousand folks in a last-ditch grasp at power), he knows he probably would’ve ended up in a similar place; he Empathizes. he gets marlo, even if that terrifies him a little. it means he carries almost all the weight in their interactions because marlo refuses to reciprocate, except in the rare moments where marlo acknowledges their similarities and gets down off their pedestal, and that almost makes up for all the insanity marlo puts him through because ness wants more than anything to be known. he sticks around to prove marlo, and himself, wrong; that you can fuck up really badly and still be worth it. (and like, again, this power dynamic is wildly unstable: most relationships where marlo holds the cards are a sunk-cost fallacy.)

but the point is: ness knows there is nothing there. marlo is all posture. marlo is a series of fragmented personas designed to either please others or get what they want. beneath that is raw self-loathing and the refusal to believe they will continue living. marlo doesn’t see a reason to sustain. rome does. rome gets very frustrated because that kind of resignation never even, like, occurred to her. she doesn’t understand why marlo is so mercurial, why they’re so willing to destroy things. she can’t understand why marlo can want her and love her so genuinely, adore her unselfishly, and still push her away. and she’s got A Lot To Unpack when it comes to her own stake in marlo—as in how important marlo’s affection and approval is to her—but she doesn’t hesitate to put marlo to rights when they’re pushing it too far. she can find little things in marlo she recognizes and read past their performances; she knows when marlo’s laughter is nervous, not taunting, knows their ‘disapproving frowns’ are more like ‘hesitant pouts’, those are all things she knew of the old marlo. but there is a lot more in that ‘modern’ marlo that she just can’t trace and that’s frequently scary. there are large gaps between the marlo that she knew and the marlo in front of her which go unexplained, and she has a really hard time reconciling that. as rome tries to regain footing in her own life, it’s.....something significant, to observe change and instability in others. but in all honesty, her “i’ll love you on purpose” is much more of a cognizant choice than ness’—it’s something she would (and will) retract if she finds it isn’t worth it. rome will be absent from marlo’s life for long swaths of time. ness probably won’t. that’s a double-edged sword.

And Like. of course there is marlo’s own dimension to this. marlo isn’t really a void, but they are quite empty. there’s no solid ground in there, and there won’t be for a long time. (hiiiii splat3 i am gonna Forcibly give marlo something to live for.) i say that marlo is un-categorize-able, but that’s because they’re too changeable, too given to reinventing themself or turning into whatever they “ought” to be. marlo’s loudmouthed and blunt but they’re also careful and private. marlo’s unpretentious and they’re also downright imperious. marlo wouldn’t hesitate to take a life but also has a fundamental respect & fascination for living things. the only time marlo can be trusted to act consistently is when they shackle themself to an external structure—like their agent status, and their captaincy—and only in that sole regard. most relevantly: marlo can love you to death and still hate you, marlo would give you the world, but only if they’re the one controlling it. marlo can want nothing more to be honest and vulnerable with you and still make your life a living hell. none of these things are mutually-exclusive. they’re gonna feel like shit about it but that’s also not a deal-breaker; if anything that’s, in their eye, all the more reason to do it.

though that’s not really the point of the post. the point is the differences in how rome and ness go about understanding that. which i just think is interesting and i wanted to try and articulate; i’m thinking a lot about ness’ staying power in marlo’s life and how much depth their relationship has despite neither of them ever bothering to acknowledge it. like i want to clarify i am still very much using “love” in a nonromantic sense (i.e. talking along the lines of storge or agape or pragma). then contrasted against rome’s foreign, temporally-displaced kind of love but not making it something lesser; her love takes work and that’s equally, if not arguably, more important. marlo and ness understand each other very well, almost inherently, but don’t communicate. marlo and rome should be incompatible but they work at it (inasmuch as marlo... tries). that’s interesting? that was the whole point of this post. no moral takeaway. just that people sure are messy. like i think i misrepresented marlo to some degree here but i do need to emphasize that they are really not doing so hot and it does mostly fall on other folks to deal with that/ they do very much take it out on others.

#oc posting #marlo and rome #marlo and ness #long post #pghthbwhfhgthhg i hate thinking aloud abt stuff like this because #i still have this gut reaction that i should pass moral judgement on marlo #like it's my responsibility as the author etc.etc.#but the fact of the matter is sometimes they're just an asshole. there are elements of their behavior that is abusive.#are there sympathetic reasons for this of course. but that doesn't make it more tolerable. like in writing it's easier to display actions #and let others draw their own conclusions—but in meta i have to be careful of the language i use & the light in which i cast marlo #so i dunno read it however you want #and if you have thoughts on it you should tell me actually #i'm very curious how you all interpret marlo from what i've shown/talked about

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sadomas0chist · 3 years

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perfect strangers

MINORS DNI // 18+

part one; part two; part three

genre: nsfw

pairing: jean kirschtein x female reader

word count: 2.4k

tags/warnings: dom jean, simultaneous masturbation, penetrative sex, oral receiving (female), fingering, swearing, casual sex, partying, make-out session, brother’s best friend, breeding kink, belly bulge.

synopsis: despite being Connie's sister, you were never half the party animal he was. at the moment, getting good grades on your last semester took all your time which made one of your good friends, Hitch, drag you out of your room to the party your brother hosted. what could possibly happen, other than sleeping with your brother's best friend?

a.n. : i was thinking about turning this into a short series but i’m still debating whether i should go for it or not. anyway, enjoy!!!

update: i actually turned this into a series ;) part two is up!!

Being the sister of one of the most chaotic human beings on earth had its drops. I was supposed to be studying for my last semester which was pretty difficult and needed a full-time concentration.

Instead, I was getting dolled up by one of my best friends, Hitch, who was practically begging me to get out of my room and party. "Don't be so nerdy, it's not like you need the extra credit. Connie will be sad if you don't show up. He's been whining to Sasha all day long how his own sister didn't want to attend his own party." She applied some red lipstick to my lips and popped hers as a sign that she was done.

"Hitch, I really appreciate y'all getting worried about me going crazy, but I'm fine really. You know I'm only going because I missed you and the girls." I stood up from my bed and walked to my vanity, gasping at how sexy I looked.

Hitch smacked my ass in response. "Your ass looks good in this dress. Get some tonight." I raised my eyebrow at her. She knew I wasn't in the mood to mess around and get attached again. I shrugged it off and opened my bedroom door.

"Wait, why didn't he invite them to our house?" I stopped, watching her make her way in front of me.

"He needed more space. And a pool. Now come on we're going to be late." she reached out to grab my hand and dragged me out of my house.

***

"Oh goodness..." I mumbled to myself when I noticed how crowded the place was. Some people were already drunk and throwing up on the grass and in garbage cans, others were shamelessly rubbing on each other, while the rest was either in the pool or at the bar.

"Oh, there's Connie." She pointed at my brother who gave her a tight hug. "Look who's here!" she cheered shaking my shoulders.

"Hey," I smiled and hugged him. "All good?" he smiled down at me and pat my head. I nodded and threw him back a smile. "Aight then, I'm gonna get going. Take care." he pointed at me jogging backward and eventually turned around and disappeared into the crowd.

A pat on my shoulder made me turn around, a grin instantly forming on my lips when I noticed that this hand belonged to Sasha. She jumped in my arms, squeezing me tightly. "Jeez I thought you were dead, never isolate yourself like that again." I chuckled taking a bite of her hot dog. "Hey!" she smacked my arm almost making me choke on the meat.

We caught up on a few things, our conversation getting steamier as Hitch began to mention her sex life and how we should be taking notes.

“No, but really, all jokes aside. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re not getting laid. I don’t even think you know how to pull men anymore babe, full offense.” She took a swing of her beer and shrugged her shoulders. I scoffed, clearly offended.

“Working my ass off for college doesn’t change anything in my flirting techniques.” I scoffed “You know what? I’ll prove it to you right now. Your pick.” I raised my hands up, challenging her. Sasha jumped in excitement next to me while Hitch was inspecting our surroundings.

“Him.” she pointed at the bar. I scrunched my face when I saw a guy who looked musty and crusty. “Girl, not him. Him.” she held my jaw with her hand and tilted my head. My eyes landed on a tall male, manspreading on the stool as his back was leaning against the wooden bar, watching everyone’s move. His elbows were resting on the wood, his right hand holding his drink, swirling it around.

He looked delicious with his tight black shirt and chinos, squeezing him in all the right places. His hair was slicked back, almost dropping to his shoulders. His facial features weren’t clear enough due to the distance I was standing from, but his jawline looked good enough.

He didn’t look like he was expecting company or was here with someone. I smirked and shook her hand, accepting her challenge. “What do you want me to do?”

“Make out with him. You’ve kissed strangers before. I’d like to see if you still have the balls to do it.” I shook my head with a grin. Frankly, I was expecting her to task me with something much worse.

“Done.” Sasha jumped in excitement and Hitch shook my hand. “Watch, and learn.” I turned on my heels and walked to the bar where he was sitting.

“Hey you,” I hissed, getting his attention. “Don’t move,” I whispered as I positioned myself between his legs and grabbed his jaw, placing my lips on his.

From here it could go two ways: he either pushes me off and tells me he’s into guys- yes it happened before, not a pleasant memory- or he kisses me back.

At first, he was shaken. However, it didn’t take him too long to snake his arm around my waist and pull me closer to him, deepening the kiss. He freed his hand from the glass he was holding and wrapped it around the back of my neck, pushing me closer.

I parted my lips, his tongue gently sliding in and toying with mine. When I finally decided it was enough, I let go of him and pulled away, a slight trail of saliva hanging from our lips.

Without adding any other word, I grinned at him and left. He didn’t say anything and sincerely I’m glad he didn’t. He clearly enjoyed it as well.

“Oh my God you actually did that.” she squeaked, shaking my shoulders.

“Hitch, it's not the first time. Also, he was a good kisser. Now, do you believe me?”

She sighed in defeat and nodded. Sasha was long gone, probably dragged to the dance floor by Connie and soon enough Marlo was here to drag Hitch too. I found this as an opportunity to go to the bathroom.

To my surprise, it was empty and clean. I checked if my mascara was still intact and if I needed to fix my lipstick. While I was applying some lipstick on, a group of girls came in, obviously tipsy, and started talking about the guys they wanted to fuck.

“There’s this tall dude with long hair, ugh girl I just want to hump him.” one of them giggled, leaning on her friend for support.

“Stephanie!! He was with a black-haired girl, don't be a slut.” her friend smacked her.

I cocked my eyebrow and added some mascara. I gathered my stuff and texted Hitch that I was going back home.

It was getting lame and my brother was in no way to be seen. I’m sure Hitch and Sasha would understand. I’ve been too focused on my studies and partying wasn’t what I needed right now.

I walked to the gates and waited for a taxi.

“Already leaving?” a voice echoed behind me, startling me. I jumped around to be met with the same dude I made out with, this time, a leather jacket resting on his shoulders.

Great.

“I’m not feeling it.” I shrugged.

“You can’t leave alone. Some dudes are total creeps.” He walked to me. His tall frame towering over me, the mixture of alcohol and perfume intoxicating me.

“You could easily be one of them. I don’t know you.”

“Well, if I were, you wouldn’t have made out with me for starters. You look mature enough to distinguish a gentleman from a douchebag.” He grinned, pushing my hair behind my shoulders.

“A gentleman?” I questioned, toying with the pockets of his jacket.

“Only if you want me to be,” he mumbled, raising my chin with his index finger.

We stared at each other for a while. I knew he was another stranger, but he made me feel aroused. Maybe Hitch was right. Maybe I needed some relief. So I did what I thought I’d never do.

“Come over. My brother is having fun at this stupid party and I doubt he’ll be back any time soon.”

I could tell he was hesitating, and to be honest, his silence made me question if I made the right decision asking him to come over. He looked like he didn’t want to take advantage of me. A true gentleman, I thought.

I didn’t really care though. We were both taking advantage of each other in this situation, knowing that we will probably never see each other again after this. It was a one-time thing.

I did have, however, a feeling that I’ve seen him before, but the booze wasn’t making me think straight and I shrugged it off. He didn’t seem to recognize me so there was nothing to be worried about.

“On one condition.” he spoke up. I tilted my head waiting for him to proceed. “Tonight, I’m in control.”

I chuckled and nodded. “If that’s what you want, cowboy then sure thing.”

“Jean.” he handed out his hand for me to shake.

“Y/n.”

***

It didn’t take us a lot of time to find his car and get to my place. As a matter of fact, our clothes dropped instantly on the floor as soon as we went through my bedroom door.

“You’re so hot,” he mumbled between kisses, his hand folding my breast. I giggled throwing my head back, my fingers playing with his hair.

His hands traveled down my body, parting ways as one pressed against my heat and the other squeezed my ass. He worked his digits between my folds, my fingers digging in his shoulders.

He gathered my slick before pushing it back with his middle and ring finger.

“Fuck Jean,” I moaned out. I pushed him closer, licking him from the base of his neck to his earlobe, and gently sucked it.

He sighed and backed me until I reached my bed. “Relax now,” He pushed me down on the mattress and spread my legs. I grabbed my pillow and placed it underneath my hips.

He sat on his knees and put my legs on his shoulders, my cunt a few inches away from him. Locking eyes with me, he gave my opening a long lick.

I hissed as he licked my slit, his thumb rubbing small circles to my clit. My hands gripped onto my sheets, my hips bucking. Damn, he was good.

“Shit, ahh, Jean,” I whimpered, his fingers now massaging my insides as his tongue played with my clit. He hummed against me, sending vibrations all over my heat.

I squealed as I felt myself get closer, my legs shakings on his shoulders.

“Be a good girl and come all over my face eh?” he seduced his fingers going faster inside me, occasionally curling to hit my sweet spot.

“I’m so close, fuck fuck fuck fuck.” I chanted gripping his hair, my head pushing down the mattress as my orgasm drove me over the edge.

He stood back up, his stubble coated with my wetness. He sucked his fingers before making them pop out of his mouth.

“Tastes as good as it looks.” He chuckled. “Spread them lips for me again baby let me see your mess”. he purred pushing his hair back.

Doing as I’m told, I spread my folds with my index and middle finger and bit my lip before running another finger between them, feeling my slick. He groaned as I touched myself, slightly playing with my swollen clit.

“You want me?” Jean stroked himself as I dipped my fingers inside me. I nodded biting harder on my lower lip, watching as he pumped himself, his vein now conspicuous.

He kneeled on my bed, pulling me closer to him. “Then take me.” And with that, he rammed himself in. I yelped at the painful stretch, his hands holding my hips. I grabbed his wrist with a hand and tried to reach my headboard with the other.

Once given the green light, he started moving slowly in and out, making sure I was comfortable. Gentleman alright.

His pace was steady, the moonlight lighting his side. He looked absolutely handsome. I wasn’t fragile, nor delicate whatsoever. Still, he didn’t fuck me just to please himself. He wanted to please me and feel me as much as I wanted to.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you okay?” I nodded with a smile. Jean’s thrusts became faster and harder. The deep long strokes were just appetizers for what he was keeping in store. He was big, but he felt incredibly nice.

My room soon was filled with the sounds of our bodies smacking against each other along with my moans and his grunts.

I was already feeling sensitive from my first orgasm, and his strokes were my g-spot almost perfectly. I was a panting mess beneath him, my makeup smudged across my face.

“Ah fuck, you’re choking me so fucking good.” he whimpered throwing his head back. Droplets of sweat trailed down from his toned chest to his abs. I stared at his tattoos and how they complimented him.

“Feel it y/n.” he grabbed my hand and placed it on my lower stomach. Shit.

“I’m gonna cum again, oh fuck, Jean.” I whimpered, his hips rocking my body. I squirmed under him, his thumb rubbing my pink bud, adding more friction.

I wailed as I felt my orgasm rip through my body, his thrusts getting sloppier. I knew he was close.

Fortunately, I’m always on the pill, so I wrapped my legs around him and pulled him down. “I want you to fill me up, please,” I begged, his face buried in my neck, leaving a love bite.

“I’m going to fill you up so good, so damn good.” He lifted my waist with his arms and pulled me closer. “Fuck, yes, oh fuck, yes.” he whimpered in my ear as he emptied himself in me, warming my walls with his semen.

We lead there for a while, motionless. His dick was limp inside me, his arms still holding me.

He feels warm. I don’t want to move. No, he has to move. I don’t do aftercare.

“That was good,” I said breaking the silence. Jean rolled to his side, his cum instantly leaking out of me as pulled out.

“Indeed. Thank you.” I chuckled at his silly response.

“You don’t thank someone for having sex with them dumbass.” A smile formed on his lips as he stood up to grab some tissues from my nightstand to clean me up.

“I’m a gentleman, remember?” he cleaned off our cum and tossed the tissues in my garbage can. “I should get going, we don’t want your brother to go nuts on you.” I nodded and pulled the sheets to cover my nude body. It was a shame that he was leaving, but as I said, I never did aftercare when it came to casual sex.

He put on his briefs and began pulling up his bottoms, however, the most unexpected thing happened, making him stop in his tracks.

“Hey, y/n I brought you some- Jean?!” Connie yelled dropping the bag of chips he was holding.

“Connie?!” Jean who was now half-clothed yelled back.

“Are you- oh my god- did I just sleep with your sister?” He panicked, holding his head with both hands.

I smacked my mouth, my eyes wide open. What the fuck was I supposed to do in a situation like that.

“You sure as hell did idiot!” my brother replied, now both of the males looking at me.

Well, that’s extremely awkward.

#aot fandom #aot x reader #jean kirschtein imagine #jean kirschtein scenarios #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschtein x you #jean kirstein #jean x reader #aot smut #jean kirschtein fanfiction #jean x reader smut #jean x you #jean kirschtein smut #jean smut #jean kirschtien

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peace-coast-island · 3 years

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Diary of a Junebug

Wandering around the Raindrop Park

Lately I've been feeling kinda off - I can't quite put it into words. The weird thing is, the events that happened over the past few days don't affect me directly - as in it's directly related to stuff happening to friends that have little or nothing to do with me. It's basically me being somewhat emotionally invested in someone or something even though I barely know the person. Kinda like the whole how do you miss someone you never even knew sorta thing.

Maybe part of it has to do with a lot of changes happening around the same time in the span of roughly a year or two. By that, I'm talking about a specific group of people - Jamie's entourage, to be exact. Since the entourage disbanded, everyone has still been keeping in touch for the most part. And since then, a lot of members have moved on, pursuing bigger things, working on new projects, coming a long way since the entourage days. A lot of them were just starting out back then and now here they are.

A couple weeks ago, Roselle passed away. It wasn't a surprise since she told us about her prognosis last year, but still sad nonetheless. She was a former teen idol actress and singer turned director with her own production company that she co-founded with a friend. I became a fan of her during her Amanda Savannah days, a role that shot her to stardom as a kid. Like many in her position, she had a sort of love-hate relationship with the character who made her famous.

After Amanda Savannah ended, Roselle wanted to take a break from acting to focus on college. During that hiatus, Roselle was going through a lot of changes, including being diagnosed with stage four cancer. Nearly a decade after Amanda Savannah, Roselle reemerged from the public, starting from the ground up as a director. As for acting and singing, she was willing to keep that open, but realistically, the chances of her going back to either one were slim to none.

I remember when I last hung out with Roselle, about a year ago, when we visited Windcrest Wolf, not too long after the beginning of the end. Roselle has been keeping us updated with her video diary, Business as Usual, which is basically about her final year. The end was quick for her, which is what she had hoped for, so she was able to carry on for as long as she could. In her final entry she said that she was at peace with her life and that she was ready to go, ready to see her mom again after all these years. A few days later she was gone.

That's why I'm here with Jamie and Nedra at the Raindrop Park. Well, part of the reason - there's another thing too. Another death unfortunately, one of someone who I never got to meet.

Two former entourage members, actress Nedra Aylen and stuntman Allan Townshend crossed paths due to a tragedy. Allan's cousin Stef was one of Nedra's close friends at Starling who was gravely injured in a motorcycle accident. The crash left Stef in a coma for years before passing away weeks ago, a few days after Roselle's death.

According to Nedra, Stef and Allan didn't have a good relationship as Stef was abused by his parents. I don't know Allan as well as Nedra, but he comes across as someone who's making an effort to right his wrongs. It still doesn't make up for his past actions, which he is aware of. The two visit Stef at the care center but other than that, they don't interact with each other much.

Given how different Nedra and Allan are in terms of their social circles/personality/upbringing, and such, it's unexpected that they ended up crossing paths through Jamie. Nedra's a classical actress, preferring the stage over the screen while being prolific in both. Allan does stunt work, which I don't know too much about, but basically it means he and Nedra, although they were in the same entourage, had absolutely nothing in common other than Stef.

People always talk about how important it is to form connections, especially through tragedy. You'd think that Nedra and Allan would at least be able to bond over that, but in reality, you can't always share your burdens with someone. In the case of Nedra and Allan - at least the way I see it through Nedra - them being friends won't do much with that burden they carry. That's not to say they're dealing with their problems alone - in fact, they're quite well adjusted despite the circumstances - it's just that they don't need to seek each other to help cope.

It's not that they dislike each other, it's just the fact that they're so different in such a way that forming a connection would feel forced. Nedra says they do keep in touch but other than that, they don't feel the need to keep up with each other. It's good to form connections, but sometimes there's people you just don't feel the need for a strong bond with, and that's okay.

I have a feeling that's the case with Nedra and Allan - they share a struggle but don't need to rely on each other to pull through. Sometimes it just works out like that.

Nedra believes that Allan wants to make peace with Stef, which is why he visits her regularly. Although he and Stef were never friends, they were close to coming to some sort of a truce, with Allan more likely to side with Stef than against her. After all, why would Stef decide to intervene on that fateful day when Allan backed himself into a corner? I imagine the guilt of surviving the accident as well as being the reason why it happened is what pushed Allan over the edge. Nedra says it's not up to her to forgive him for how he treated Stef, but she's willing to give him the benefit of the doubt as what he's going through is punishment enough.

Like with Roselle, Stef's death wasn't unexpected either. By then, Nedra knew that she was already long gone. She says it feels like a weight off her shoulders, the relief of knowing that Stef can finally rest in peace instead of being stuck in limbo. I can't imagine being in Stef's position, stuck to machines keeping me alive even though it's futile. I don't think I'd want to be kept alive on life support if it won't do anything except prolong the inevitable.

When I'm gone, let me go. I don't want to die a slow death where I become nothing but a husk of who I was.

Nedra stuck with her to the very end. Allan was there too but he kept his distance. The end came quickly and quietly, her heart stopped beating and that was it. She says it's been rough, but not as difficult as she thought it would be. Then again, she said she already made her peace with losing Stef so I think that helped a bit.

I can't imagine losing two friends in a short time like what Nedra's going through right now. That's why Jamie invited her along her travels so she can take some much needed time off, leading to us crossing paths at the Raindrop Park. Before coming here, Jamie and Nedra spent the weekend at the Sparkling Spa Resort, which they said they enjoyed a lot.

After the Raindrop Park they weren't sure where they were gonna go next before deciding on the camp. The timing happens to be perfect as another entourage member's gonna drop by later on along with some other friends for a fun event. It'll be good for Nedra and Jamie to see Jean again as we were talking about how she's one of the busier members.

Maybe one day I'll get Marlo to meet Jean and Nedra as she's big fans of them. She and Don are planning to come back, likely during a camp event, so maybe I can finally make her dreams come true. I told Nedra about Marlo and she's totally down for a get together with her and knowing Jean, she'll be all for it too. Now, if only we can find a date and time when all three are available...

The Raindrop Park is one of those places where it's easy to get lost in. Watching the raindrops fall is strangely mesmerizing, I can't take my eyes off them. In a way, I think it's a good thing, probably because I've had so much on my mind regarding the stuff I just mentioned, so maybe I needed to take the time to process the information. That, and of course, writing my thoughts out once I finally found the words.

Along with the mesmerizing raindrops, another thing that sticks out to me is the decor, like the benches. I really like the leafy designs of the benches and lampposts - a lot of art inspiration around here. The foliage is lovely too and the raindrops really add to the aesthetic. I'm partial to rainy days so of course I'd be drawn to something like this. The cloudy, somewhat gloomy sky seems fitting enough as well. Even though it's gray, there's still some sunlight poking through, so it's not completely dark.

The fog in my mind's clearing up a bit, even more so now that I've put my thoughts on paper. I also think being with Jamie and Nedra also helped, especially knowing that Nedra's gonna be all right. It's rough, but as she said, she's made peace with it. And as for Roselle, she was able to make the most out of the time she had left so she was able to leave with no regrets.

I hope that when the end comes for me, I can leave the world the same way Roselle did. Is that asking for too much?

#animal crossing #animal crossing pocket camp #Diary of a Junebug #headcanon ramble

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p3ach3snplums · 3 years

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PROVE YOU WRONG

A MARLO MIX

Listen ( x )

@tacltadete SEND ♪ FOR A MIX OF OUR MUSES

A Sky Full of Stars -Coldplay

'Cause you're a sky, 'cause you're a sky full of stars I want to die in your arms, oh 'Cause you get lighter the more it gets dark I'm gonna give you my heart, oh

Say You Like Me -We The Kings

'Cause I'm never going down, I'm never giving up I'm never gonna leave so put your hands up If you like me then say you like me I'm never going down, I'm never giving up I'm never gonna leave so put your hands up If you like me then say you like me

See You in My Dreams -We The Kings

Come to my dreams, Daylight won't find us here We're finally free, Free to go anywhere So give me the strength, Strength just to say goodbye Goodbye to the world, The world we could leave behind

I Wouldn´t Mind -He Is We

Carefully we'll place for our destiny. You came and you took this heart And set it free. Every word you write and sing is so warm to me So warm to me. I'm torn, I'm torn. To be right where you are.

A Thousand Years -Christina Perry

Heart beats fast Colors and promises How to be brave? How can I love when I'm afraid to fall? But watching you stand alone All of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow One step closer I have died every day waiting for you Darling, don't be afraid I have loved you for a thousand years I'll love you for a thousand more

Yo Quisiera -Reik

Lo que no sabes es que Yo quisiera ser ese por quien te desvelas y te desesperas Yo quisiera ser tu llanto, ese que viene de tus sentimientos Yo quisiera ser ese por quien tú despertaras ilusionada Yo quisiera que vivieras de mí siempre enamorada

You Are My Sunshine -Domino Dancing

You are my sunshine rise, my only sunshine yeah You make me happy when skies are gray You'll never know dear, how much I love you So please don't take my sunshine away So please don't take my sunshine away

Odio Amarte -Ha*Ash

Más que negarlo, quisiera olvidarlo Pero, hay algo entre los dos Déjale sentir algo a tu corazón

Más Que Amigos -Matisse

Y ya no sé qué hacer, me desespero Cuando estás con alguien y te veo Sabiendo hasta los huesos que a ti, yo pertenezco Y que yo debo ser tu complemento Solo es conmigo, conmigo el camino Que debes tú tomar Sé que yo te puedo enamorar Solo es contigo, contigo que pido Toda una eternidad Te ruego solo una oportunidad, eh eh oh

Prove You Wrong -He Is We

You're the boy with a real nice smile, But a broken heart inside. Give it to a girl, gave it to a girl, And I think she lost her mind. Are you giving up and done? Are you through with all this? Are you tired of the pain? Torn to pieces. Can you let me try? Tell me it's all right, Just for one night. Show you how to feel like, What it feels like. To be hugged, to be kissed. Yes I can be that part of you. I'll try my best. I'm the girl, I can make you smile, And I promise to be true. Give it all,

About Love -MARINA

Started in the strangest way Didn't see it coming Swept up in your hurricane Wouldn't give it up for nothing Now I'm all caught up in the highs and the lows It's a shock to my system I don't wanna run away, so I stay My head gets messy when I try to hide The things I love about you in my mind I don't really know a lot about love A lot about love, a lot about love But you're in my head, you're in my blood And it feels so good, it hurts so much

I Feel Alive -We The Kings

I'm lying here whispering the sweetest nothing I feel your heart beating faster than you're breathing And I don't even know if I can close my eyes Don't want to sleep 'cause I'm wide awake and dreaming Hold me close and catch your breath now I promise not to leave this bed yet

Truly Madly Deeply -Savage Garden

I'll be your dream, I'll be your wish, I'll be your fantasy I'll be your hope, I'll be your love, be everything that you need I love you more with every breath truly, madly, deeply do I will be strong, I will be faithful 'cause I'm counting on A new beginnin' A reason for livin' A deeper meaning, yeah

How Long Will I Love You -Ellie Goulding

How long will I love you? As long as stars are above you And longer if I can How long will I need you? As long as the seasons need to Follow their plan How long will I be with you? As long as the sea is bound to Wash upon the sand How long will I want you? As long as you want me to And longer by far

Iris -The Goo Goo Dolls

And I don't want the world to see me 'Cause I don't think that they'd understand When everything's made to be broken I just want you to know who I am

You And Me -Lifehouse

'Cause it's you and me And all of the people with nothing to do Nothing to lose And it's you and me And all of the people And I don't know why I can't keep my eyes off of you

Style -Taylor Swift

You got that James Dean daydream look in your eye And I got that red lip, classic thing that you like And when we go crashing down, we come back every time 'Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style You've got that long hair slick back, white t-shirt And I got that good girl faith and a tight little skirt And when we go crashing down, we come back every time 'Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style

How You Get The Girl -Taylor Swift

And then you say I want you for worse or for better I would wait for ever and ever Broke your heart, I'll put it back together I would wait for ever and ever And that's how it works That's how you get the girl, girl, oh And that's how it works That's how you get the girl, girl

#♪awesome wow |memes |answered #♪i want you for worse or for better i would wait for ever and ever |maggie and arlo #espero te guste mucho este mix lo hice con mi amor por nuestro ship #te amo y los amo

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beteoriginale-a · 5 years

Text

1925

Seven years prior to this day the Quarter felt the wrath of the demons it harbored. The devil came, he saw, and decimated the foundation the pillars of the city built upon. The underworld was dealt a great blow in the ordeal, for their leaders either ran or were cut down in the aftermath. Organized crime broke off into splinter cells of thieves and two-bit gangsters starving for the greater power their fallen leaders had attained and peace between uneasy alliances became a husk of its former self. New and refurbished local businesses refused association with the supernatural gangs and those that were criminally inclined. NOPD were able to easily find and thwart the uprisings, in addition to petty crime in the wake of the 1919 Opera house massacre. The fall of the Mikaelsons Family was both a blessing and a curse in disguise.

And none knew this better than the two leaders of the respective vampire and werewolf factions that were cordially eating dinner with each other in the old Mikaelson courtyard. In a town that were renowned for its legendary crime syndicates the Guerrera and Gerard crime families ranked near the top of the most ruthless regimes that has taken root in recent years. Under the venomous guide of Marlo Guerrera, the werewolves sunk their fangs titanic-deep into the soil of political ranks and pockets of the law enforcement. Gaining tributes from a plethora of local businessmen through sheer force was first nature to the apex predators. Oppositions and those that refused to lend their services in their journey to the position of power became maggot food, their bones play things for the omegas.

The Original Family left a great gap in their premature fall, but thanks to the Prohibition Era, like Capone, Luciano, and other prospering gangsters around the States the Guerrera pack took advantage of the new law's good intent and thrived. Speakeasies, prostitution, gambling, and bootlegging ensured the Guerrera mob a consistent flow of income. But they owed a great debt to the moon, albeit the bane of their existence, it is what fiercely solidified their hold over their territories. Their use of intimidation and bloodthirsty tactics saw to it that their tenure as kings of the New Orleans underworld would be a term of werewolf supremacy.

But that is what also earned them a pesky, but great enemy in the outlaw Marcel Gerard. The Guerrera mob had their private connections to local authorities, their assassins, poisoners, honorable hunters armed with dreadful technology the times permitted. In that area they exceeded the might of their ragtag rivals; that was why Marcel had systematically secured a place in the hearts of the people and attacked the fearsome organization in the art of guerrilla warfare. He ruled his own kind and his supporters by the power of his charisma and intelligence.

Invitation; a well known weakness of the vampires was made into their greatest advantage. When necessary, their native allies would provide asylum for a modicum of Marcel's band, whilst their greater opposition's patrols searched religiously for them. That tidbit of influence made the nocturnal bandits practically ghosts in the streets. This frustrated the Guerrera mob immensely to the point they started flexing their muscle through their 'friends.' If they couldn't eat, then their allies couldn't eat. So, their pocket police harassed, sometimes aggressively, the residents for the whereabouts on the lead vampire and anyone that associates with them. Gangs of hoodlums under the Guerrera pay were sent to terrorize business owners for information. The Guerrera themselves would often hold public executions and threaten that nobody is immune to their wrath.

At first, the plan was to disrupt the cash flow by persuading Guerrera partner's to do business with the vampires and or setting loyal rackets on fire, but it became personal. Some of his close human friends and their families found themselves slain, and as a war hero Marcel understood the concept of casualties of war, but he well in tuned with the craft of revenge more. Marcel response in painting the streets red in Guerrera blood engineered a dangerous vortex of one of the most bloodiest supernatural vendettas. Classic vampire versus werewolf.

With all of the carnage that has taken place, neither side profited. thus bringing about the demand for the meeting. Pastor Joel, head of the Human Faction, arranged for the two warring factions to maintain a healthy truce for the evening. Two neutral emissaries were sent out to the two parties and instructed them to bring only four delegates from their armies to meet at the old Mikaelson compound. Considering it once housed a famous family of crime lords, it seemed like a appropriate spot for the city's latest ones. The Gerard and Guerrera crime families were reluctant about it, but ultimately agreed for the betterment of business.

"Pastor, you gathered us here on the day of my nephew birthday. Must I remind you that I'm only here off of the respect I have for you and Mr. Gerard's late predecessors. But even that had its limitations. Our patience wear staggeringly thin. Say what you must now, otherwise this little meeting is concluded and we'll start back up where we left off." Don Guerrera sighed tempestuously, dipped a morsel of lobster tail in the butter dish and downed it without reserve.

"My dear Don Guerrera," Gerard smiled sheepishly, "with all due respect to you and your nephew, lest we teeter-totter with the issue at hand, let's lay out our real grievances on the table and discuss solutions and not use faux reasoning to us being here today." the lead Vampire bandit sliced into a bakery fresh cheesecake and and delicately held it in front of a young Creole courtesan that saddled his lap. The vampiress gaily took a bite and flashed her sire a look. His pinky mopped the blood crumb daintily off the side of her cherry-washed lips and whispered something inaudibly in her ear. She giggled like a school girl and popped her big bum up off his lap, and sauntered her well-proportioned figure through the compound's courtyard. As she disappeared from plain sight, she left Marcel and the three other vampires, fresh recruits, alone with the five Guerrera brothers.

"Firstly, I find it awfully funny that you want the broach the subject on respect with me when this is suppose to be a congregation of bosses, but I'm here I am—in the company of a joker. While I haven't the pleasure of personally seeing the man, I see his grace has a taste for tricks. You don't think I know who you really are, Carmine Orejuela?" Marcel seethed, his jaws bound tighter than that of a Nile crocodile's. Surprised by this revelation, or rather the young vampire's keenness the Pastor was about to open his lips to say something, but Marcel interjected and said, "Joel, don't be rude now. I haven't finish making a statement. Our body double here, senor Orejuela needs to understand that contrary to popular belief of the simpleminded, this negro can read and he does his homework. Also, lest it's not obvious, he's sitting in the humble abode of a Gerard, not a Mikaelson. Or at least it will be, once I run out all the mangy bitches littering about around here." A small grin pulled across his face, much to his enemies chagrin.

"But I'll forgive his many slights for two reasons and two reason only: the first is that I wouldn't want to ruin what could be a good family photo on the day of his nephew's "birthday" and the second is to send a message back to your true don, since seeing little ol' me wasn't fixed on his schedule. My message is a simple one, one you should be able to relay without difficulties." He took a deep sigh as he mouthed the next words slowly, as if the gentlemen before him were hard at hearing. "Marlo Guerrera is not a god. He can be touched. He is facing a major lost he has with the vampires, if he continues going about his business like the way he is now. I like to say I'm a civil guy, so I can honestly say that I find it to be in his best interest to step down now while he can, lest he can still run with wolves under the full moon, let alone still have the heart to turn than. . . With all due respect of course," Marcel said, with a promise that sounded severely threatening to his opponents.

The four Guerrera brothers rose from their respective seats, palms punching into the insides of their two-piece smokey grey wool suit jackets, at the ready to riddle the bandits with wood, but their cousin, their fake Guerrera don had rose his hand to halt them in their actions. Marcel's three newest recruits, apprehensive as they were, remained seated in silence. If they wanted to, the five werewolves would find themselves without the luxury of a head in the blink of a eye.

"You guys hear the balls rolling of this putero de mierda tongue?" Pudgy fingers lifted the dark shades off of his face and folded them over the collar of his grey button up, ensuring that the grimness on his face wasn't missed. Crows feet peaked predominately around his cold coal grey eyes, as his paper-thin lips wedges a crack of a half grin across his aged toasted brown features. "Kid, you barely managed to assert yourself on the booster seat to this little thing of ours. You don't have the privilege, no real rights to sit down with real power players and if you continue on with the belief that leading a bunch of witless hoodlums and causing mischief will pit you anywhere near that circle, then you have a long way to go son. You're well on your way to falling on your sword."

"Gentleman, please. The purpose of this get together. " Pastor Joel started to say, trepidation discernibly in his tone but was broken off by Orejuela's slamming his hand on the table.

"Was lost the damn moment this darkie struck up the audacity to throw his weight around our city, steal the food from our table and spit on our laws!" Orejuela voice boomed, his piercing glare burning holes in the pastor. "The problem as I see it is like all young upstarts, you're too willful and sure of the crumb of power you managed to scrape up out of the gutters for yourself. The Faction treated the vampires with too much deference. Diplomacy is a concept suited for those of a greater standing in our society, characters with a magnitude of influence and I'm afraid Mr. Gerard, as troubling as he has been for us, just doesn't meet our scales. Once he learns respect and tact, then maybe the guy got a shot at shining our shoes. He should be grateful enough that the Guerrera Family are even entertaining this Roberitco Capucha wanna-be and that his carcass isn't floating out in bayou somewhere, waiting to be devoured and become gator shit."

You could cut the tension in the air with a butter knife. It took a great ounce of willpower for Marcel not to break character and throw diplomacy out the window. To be spoken to as a underling is the formula that compelled his thinking into the relentless desire to want more for himself. There were plenty of men like the fake don and his family; individuals whose egos rivaled Rome itself, so Orejuela's attitude came as to no surprise, but it still got drove his nerves wild. Turning his attention to the pastor, Marcel shot him a wicked grin then reverted a dark glare back to match Orejuela. "And here I thought the Guerrera Family were a pack of sophisticated and reasonable people. I blame my naivety on that." Marcel chucked a low chuckle and snort, whilst leaning with interlocked digits coming down on the table.

"Old friend, your passion speaks out to me. I can see now that I undoubtedly overstepped my bounds with your family. And for that, I deeply apologize for not realizing sooner," the vampire head released a soft grin and spoke his next choice of words in a sterner tone, "we're not meant to co-exist. We can't. You are right about the vampires not being able to work out in a system that our predecessors laid out for the later generations to continue to follow. But, I've been walking this earth long enough for you to be many of my great-grandsons. Rome wasn't built in a day, but neither did it take a day for its fall. And my people have taken our place in society from the moment we got off that boat and damn sure from the moment we started building Louisiana. We're magic-made, sweetheart, anything can happen. You fellas have a good day." Marcel removed himself from the table and started walking towards the compound's entrance, with his men in tow.

As they stepped out into the cool night sky, Pastor Joel caught up with them and opened his mouth, perhaps to offer apologies but Marcel spoke before he did. "Pastor, it's been a pleasure. I'm sorry this couldn't have worked out as you'd like, but when it comes to the lay of our land there can be no pacts between a pride of lions and a pack of wolves That much was made clear here this evening. Next we meet, I'll be in my best suit for the funeral. You're not the only one that can look nice in black, Pastor." Marcel winked at him, and with that he and his crew left the Pastor standing there alone.

Later on, Marcel and his small army would make an inconspicuous appearance at one of their favorite jazz club spots to see King Oliver and his Creole Jazz Band perform. Marcel needed something to swell his soul, purify it, for what he had planned for his adversaries would surely taint it.

@accursedmaneater

#long post tw #long rp tw #slurs tw #( You dont gotta reply back in this length - you know that )#( thanks for taking this sl on !)#accursedmaneater #racism tw

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turtlesoupstories · 6 years

Text

Retrouvailles (4/4)

hello friends, it is finally here, the final part of our 500 follower collab fic! this is my second take on it, i just wasn’t happy with the first one but i’m so proud of this one. the first one was 10 pages and so is this one, so yall are in for a ride. thank you so much for all your feedback and kind messages they mean everything to us! i really hope you guys enjoy it!

as always i want to thank my other ladies: kaitlyn, marlo, mikayla for helping me come up with ideas and editing this fuckin novel.

you can find the previous parts of retrouvailles here

and be sure to check out the amazing drawing that @outlanderedandoverhere so kindly made for us!

see you all on the flip side 😏

-shannon ( @internallydeceased )

Two Years Later… Boston, Massachusetts

Claire stared into the deep amber liquid of the whiskey that swirled in her glass, half hoping that the tiny tornado she created would suck her up and spit her out somewhere else–anywhere else.

“Are you even listening to me, L. J.?” Joe–her one true friend and confidant–nudged her with his elbow, pulling her from her reverie.

“Hm? Sorry, what were you saying?” Claire replied, her head jerking up to meet his eyes, cheeks flushed in humiliation.

Joe chuckled, “It’s fine, don’t sweat it.” He smiled at her, his eyes crinkling as he did so. “I asked if you were alright–something on your mind?” He took another swig of his drink, eyebrows raised over the rim of the cup in anticipation.

Her hands lay in her lap, grappling with each other as anxiety and guilt washed over her all at once.

She stared at her hands, trying to focus on anything other than the emotions that plagued her. Tears welled up in her eyes as the memory of a young boy flitted across her consciousness.

Joe placed a large hand over both of hers comfortingly, assuring her that he was–and always would be–there for her.

“Claire, you know you can tell me.”

She laughed shortly. “You know, I can’t seem to remember you ever calling me that before.”

Looking up at him, she watched as he shook his head. “Well, there’s a first time for everything,” he joked, but his face turned serious as he nodded, signalling her to continue.

Claire took in a long shaky breath, closing her eyes for a moment in an attempt to gain her composure.

“I can’t stop thinking about him… or his mother. Joe, I’ve never had a patient die on me. Ever. And with that, I feel like I could’ve—should’ve—saved him…” She trailed off, her voice choked on the sobs that threatened to break through.

She finally looked up at him, her eyes glassy with tears. “It’s all my fault, Joe. A mother now has to live without her child because of me. I killed him.” She finished, voice cracked with emotion, and she leaned onto Joe’s shoulder—thoroughly and completely falling to pieces.

Joe pulled her into his chest, silently shushing her and drawing soothing patterns on her back with his hand.

“Do you want to step outside for a minute?” He whispered, taking note of the scattered curious eyes lingering on them. She nodded, taking his hand as he lead them out of the comforting warmth of the bar and into the bitter cold of a December night.

She was still sobbing, her breath coming fast and short as she continued to lose control of her emotions. Joe turned towards her, forcing her to look up at him.

“Lady Jane, you can’t save everyone. It wouldn’t have made a difference if you’d gotten there an hour or, hell, even a minute sooner. Sometimes things happen that we can’t prepare for, and there isn’t a damn thing we can do about it.”

“I’ve been able to save people before,” she murmured shakily into his chest. “Even when all the odds were against me, I was able to turn it around somehow. But not with him.” Shaking her head slowly, she could hardly begin to think about anything else, besides that it was her fault he lay cold and lifeless in a morgue instead of outside and alive, living his life with his family. There were so many things that he could no longer do, and now these things plagued her, lingering close behind her like a ghost.

Joe placed his hands on each of her shoulders, squeezing her hard enough so that she’d look at him. “Listen to me. You’ve been lucky, luckier than anyone I’ve ever known—but there isn’t a surgeon on this planet, no matter how lucky, that can save every patient that walks through their door.” He exhaled and dropped his arms from her shoulders so that they lay limp at his sides. “There will always be losses that stick with you, especially your first.” He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall.

Claire noticed that Joe was no longer present, his mind taking him to another time and place. She whispered softly, “Yours?”

“I was in my third year of residency. A woman came in with flu-like symptoms: she’d been sick for months, and her condition remained the same. I knew that it could’ve been anything—but I was so sure it wasn’t anything serious.” He paused, looking off into the distance, remembering. “I examined her, took some tests. But I failed to see something that seems so obvious now. I had expected it to be so easy, but…” He trailed off, unable to say the words that remained trapped in his throat.

Instead, she finished for him. “It wasn’t.”

“No,” he murmured, still far away. “It wasn’t.”

“What happened?” Claire inquired after another long pause.

He looked up at her, his eyes soft in the dim light of the street lamp, illuminating the tears that threatened to fall.

“We had her stay a few hours longer, just in case something unusual were to happen. But it wasn’t until I went over the tests and mentally ran through the list of symptoms again that I realized what I had missed: Leptospirosis—”

“Weil’s disease,” she’d said, mostly to herself.

He nodded. “By the time we figured out what it was, it was too late. I did everything I could to save her but… there was nothing I could do for her. By the time she came in, her liver was already failing. The damage had already been done, and no one could’ve saved her, L. J. No one.”

Tears silently streamed down his cheeks, the guilt weighed on him, even now, despite the fact that he knew there was nothing else he could’ve done. Wiping his face to clear the few fallen tears, he took a deep breath and turned his attention back to his friend.

“With every life saved, another is lost. It doesn’t matter what we do to try and change that. There will always be death and there will always be life, no matter how hard we try to avoid it.” He smiled, squeezing his friend’s hand, “But it’s easier on the mind to focus on those we have saved, while letting the memory of those lost live forever in our minds.”

Claire swallowed and nodded, beginning to understand. The message was simple: she’ll always blame herself, but that’s okay. Focusing on the positive is more important, in order to keep her sanity.

Joe let out a light chuckle, placing his left hand on her shoulder and leading them back into the bar. “I don’t know about you Lady Jane, but I need a drink.”

The farther and farther into the drink Claire got, the more prevalent the boy’s death became. She tried to listen to Joe’s words, to let him live on in her memory and focus on others, but she couldn’t. A lingering thought was ever-present in her mind, hovering over her like a bee to a flower: that boy reminded her of someone she had known, a long time ago.

She had tried so hard to leave everything behind, to shove all her memories in a box and leave them in the back of the closet. But he was all she ever thought about, ever since she returned to Boston. Despite finishing medical school, earning her degree and finally living her dream as a surgeon, he always lingered in the back of her mind.

Deep down, she understood why Geordie Campbell’s death had resonated so strongly with her—she had just refused to admit it. She’d thought that if she ignored it, it would eventually go away and she could move on. But she should’ve known better.

A few months after she graduated, she tried dating again. The men came and went, none of them coming close to the feeling she had felt with him, the truest love she had ever found in her life. After her fifth or sixth failed date, she began to think that she’d be alone for the rest of her days.

Eventually, she just threw everything she had into work, spending so much time in that damn hospital that she might as well have lived there. Yet no matter how much time and effort she focused on the other aspects of her life, Jamie was always there, like a chain you just can’t shake free.

That day when the boy died on the table—in her hands—she lost herself completely, having to leave the room and stay in the break room for the rest of the night, her heart finally giving into the harsh truth she’d ignored for two long years:

She did want him, love him, miss him. And more than anything in her life, she wanted to be with him. Many a time she’d gone online, looking for flights to Paris; but as soon as she’d get to the book flight button, the fears and doubts nagged at her.

What if he hates me and never wants to see me again? Does he resent me, now, for leaving him after he spilled his entire heart out to me? What if he’s already moved on—with a girlfriend or, hell, married with a family? Could I live with myself if I broke apart a happy marriage? What if—

“Can you shut up for one second?” She muttered to herself, downing the rest of her glass.

The hours passed as the pair drank and talked, reminiscing about their internships and the beginning of their friendship. Joe spoke about his family, some of the odd cases that came into the ER in the last couple of weeks, and generally just laughing and enjoying each other’s company.

“I’ll be right back, just need to use the restroom.” She smiled at her friend—who was on his fourth drink, limiting himself so that he could watch over Claire and make sure she got home safely.

She was halfway to the restroom when she heard her name.

“Claire!”

Her entire body went rigid as she slowly turned to face him. “Frank,” she said in a clipped tone.

Frank smiled, his face sweet and genuine. For a moment, she wasn’t even sure it was the same man she’d known almost four years ago. “I was sitting over there and I saw you pass by, thought I’d ask how you’re doing. It’s been awhile since I’ve seen you.”

She narrowed her eyes, searching for the true colors of the man behind this mask of civility. “I’m fine, thank you. How are you and Sandy?”

He beamed at the name, eyes sparkling with something she’d never seen in him before. “We’re getting married, actually.”

“Well, I suppose congratulations are in order.”

He nodded humbly, “Thank you. What about you? Found anyone special?” He inquired as he looked over to where she’d just been sitting, arching one eyebrow as he spotted Joe.

“No,” she laughed, mostly at the notion of her and Joe as a couple. “That’s Joe. He’s my friend and coworker. But to answer your question: no, I’m focusing on my career for now.”

Frank smirked, a crack in the mask. “I see. I suppose some things don’t change.”

She gritted her teeth. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It’s just funny to see how little people change in the span of three years,” he replied, looking her up and down with hawk-like eyes.

Unsure of his meaning, she instead turned her attention towards the bar and spotting a lone glass, half full with some foreign beverage. She stepped away for a moment before turning back to face him. “Funnily enough, Frank, neither have you.” With a flick of the wrist, she threw the drink at him, whatever alcoholic beverage it was splashing across his face and the top of his shirt.

She smirked triumphantly as she stalked away from him, not one tinge of regret present in her body. The look on his face was four years in the making.

“Shit!” Joe swore, checking the time on his wristwatch. “I’m sorry, L.J., but I’ve gotta get home.” He slipped into his jacket and geared up for the cold that awaited him outside the door. Once he zipped it up, he looked back to Claire, grimacing. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

She smiled, shaking her head in dismissal. “No need, I think I’ll walk. I could use the fresh air.”

His brows knitted together in concern. “Are you sure? If something happens, I-”

“Joe. Go home. I’ll be fine, I promise.” She gave him a reassuring smile and tilted her head towards the door, telling him that it was okay to leave. He hesitated, unsure of his decision, until Claire mouthed the word “go” and he finally left.

Claire turned her attention back to her drink: her second glass of water. She downed it before putting on her own jacket and gloves. Stepping outside into the dark, she noticed how the blanket of white over the ground sparkled when a headlight occasionally passed over it. Snow had begun to fall, microscopic crystals falling from the sky and decorating everything in a thick blanket of ice. She exhaled, watching the cloud of her breath dissipate into the air. The cold bit at her exposed skin, numbing the tip of her nose and the apples of her cheeks. She looked up at the sky before beginning the journey home—she couldn’t make out the difference between the stars and the snowflakes that floated towards her, thinking that perhaps they were one in the same.

The sidewalk was covered in a fresh sheet of snow, perfectly smooth and undisturbed. The streets were completely empty besides the occasional car going by or a light in a store window. Other than that, she was completely alone. In that moment, it was as if she were the only person in the world.

For the first time in a long time, she felt happy—free. Her heart and soul soothed by the smell of pine-trees and the memories of Christmases long past. But there was no feeling of grief or mourning as she thought of them, as there usually was. It was as though her parents were walking along side her, watching over her and keeping her safe. Only, it wasn’t their eyes that she felt on her back as she walked down the sidewalk, feet crunching in the snow underfoot. The hair at the back of her neck stood on end as the euphoria of the memory faded away into something else.

She shoved her hands inside her pockets and began to walk a little faster. If I can just get to the cafe a few blocks away, I’ll be fine, she thought to herself, a plan forming in her slightly fogged mind.

Never once did she look back as she made her way into the cafe, eyes forward and her head down, her rational mind attempting to assure her that the threat wasn’t real. She headed straight for the counter, asking the half-asleep barista for a black iced coffee. After paying for the drink, she stood by the napkin dispenser, heart racing as she could still feel the eyes on her.

Upon calling her name and setting the drink at the end of the counter, Claire grasped it in one hand. Pulling off the lid and turning to the napkin station, as if she was about to pour sugar into the drink, she instead turned and thrust her hand forward, throwing the drink directly in the face of the stranger behind her.

The figure wiped his eyes cautiously, a familiar hand brushing his hair out of his face. Her heart seemed to be stuck in her throat.

“Jamie…”

As any artist would know, they are nothing without a muse. If it doesn’t exist, or it is lost, the purpose of art is lost. Jamie had learned this the hard way, having met and lost his muse within the span of two weeks. His interest in people declined greatly with the absence of her, and eventually found no enjoyment in photographing people at all. Ultimately, he steered away from people altogether, capturing the natural beauty of cities and countrysides instead.

Despite his change in subject, his work was still occasionally featured in galleries and magazines; remnants of the person he once was. Eventually, he decided to leave Paris behind, unable to live in a place where her ghost constantly haunted him with the memories of their time together. The places they were together were the hardest, but in the end, it didn’t matter where he was: his mind would always find a way to work Claire into it, whether they had spent time together there or not.

After leaving Paris about a month after her, he decided to go back to his ancestral home in the Scottish countryside, to spend some time with his family and, ultimately, to heal. He carried his camera everywhere he went, capturing the lush green of the hills and moors of the Scottish summer.

He found it nearly impossible to stay in one place for too long, however, so he took to life on the road: travelling to different cities, countries, and continents. Still, he would avoid photographing the people, and instead focused on the architecture, the landscapes, the skylines. In the end, he realized he was doing it for Claire–rather, for himself to impose Claire into each rolling landscape. Each time he went to a new city, he couldn’t help but picture her there amongst the crowds of people. All around the world he’d traveled, from Morocco to Tokyo to Las Vegas–and everywhere he turned, he’d see her creep around a corner or wave down a taxi. She was always with him, haunting him, never allowing him to forget.

Eventually, he had finally made his way to Boston. Upon arriving, he realized she had said something in the past about the city being her home, but he hadn’t thought anything of it. Now that he was here, however, the presence of her was almost overwhelming. Everywhere he turned, he’d see her face amongst those of strangers: lost in the crowded streets. Throughout the duration of his stay, he spent each day roaming throughout the city, walking through all the neighborhoods that laid within. He visited every place he could think of, hoping that today would be the day–the day that his life would begin again; to reshape the shell of it into the life he truly wanted.

He’d spent his day today wandering around hospital wards, hoping for just the tiniest glimpse of her. Wandering the halls almost like a ghost, he would pace the hallways until someone would kick him out. After the fifth time, the only thing he needed was something that would allow him to forget, at least for a little while.

And walking into the bar, all hopes dashed, he saw her–sitting at the bar across the room, talking and laughing with another man. Seeing the wide smile on her face made his heart sink low in his chest. Had she found someone else?

His eyes were on her the entire night, falling in love with her all over again. The way she carried herself with more confidence than any woman he ever saw, how she threw the drink in a man’s face and still made it look beautiful. The carefree sound of her laugh, reverberating off the walls of the small bar. His stomach fluttered when he noticed her companion leave without her. She was finally alone.

When she left, he had begun to panic. He’d been so afraid that he had missed his chance, worrying about what to say to her instead of actually talking to her; that now, it was too late.

Go after her, the voice inside his head screamed. Go after her!

Instead of calling for her, however, he opted to just follow her down the street. Still unable to say a word, he trailed behind, chastising himself for each minute that passed. Feeling more like a stray dog than a long-lost lover, he followed her into the coffeeshop, finally mustering up the courage to say something.

He opened his mouth to speak when he was met with iced coffee being thrown in his face. It wasn’t what he had planned or expected, but it couldn’t have been more perfect.

He couldn’t help but laugh, the memory of their first meeting replaying in his mind (though, thankfully, this coffee didn’t burn. Suppose she’s learned her lesson). He could hardly believe any of it was happening at all, the pure ecstasy that shot through every cell and fiber of his entire being as he looked at her.

“Claire.”

She’d completely forgotten about the plastic cup she’d been holding that now laid at her feet, rolling side to side and tapping against her foot. All she could do was stare at his face, pinching herself to make sure he was really here.

“What the bloody hell are you doing here?” She breathed, still not fully convinced that this wasn’t just another dream.

Jamie looked down at his feet, feeling as though he were fourteen again, afraid to speak to the girl he had a crush on. “That’s uh… a rather long story.”

“I suppose you could start with why you were following me?”

His eyes were wide, his mouth gaping like a fish out of water as words failed him. She couldn’t help but laugh at the expression on his face, her heart beginning to feel whole again.

“I uh, I ken it wasna right and I beg yer pardon for it but I was just so–” He shook his head and braved a glance at her.

Her eyebrows rose expectantly. “So…?”

“Afraid. I wanted to go over to ye more than anything, but I was afraid ye’d found someone else and moved on I– Christ, just to see ye again! It was as if I stepped outside on a cloudy day, and suddenly the sun came out.” He was beaming ear to ear, his blue eyes crinkling with the joy of it.

Claire could feel the tears welling up in her eyes. It was hard for her to even imagine it: the man she had longed for throughout the duration of their separation, the one she thought about constantly and had tried to forget, was standing there, right in front of her. The fact that he was just as excited and frightened as she was calmed her racing heart.

“I wasn’t sure you’d remember me…” She said absentmindedly, taking a step towards him.

His teeth flashed white as he smiled before digging into his pocket and pulling out a small square of paper–a photo. He took a step forward as well, handing it to her. A laugh escaped his lips when her hand came up to her mouth in shock, the tears that she’d kept at bay streaming down her cheeks. Her own eyes peered up at her from behind the rim of a coffee cup, hair wild around her face. Their very first meeting, the photograph (and the coffee) that had started it all.

“How could I ever forget about you?” He whispered, bringing a hand up to cup her cheek and leaning in to kiss her.

Their first step towards a new life, together.

END.

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morrisondauthor · 7 years

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“Ex-Factor” – Part 1

*special thanks to @justthatsony for the pics and conversations that helped create this story!!!

I was in the middle of getting ready for a friend’s party when Graham texted me asking if I wanted to hang out with him and his friends. I told him I was going to stop by a party and that I might be able to hang out with him and his friends after I leave. Just getting a text from him made me feel good inside. There’s just something about being with the right person that really changes you as a person, especially after a horrific previous relationship. And my two-year rollercoaster ride with my ex-boyfriend was downright tragic.

“Sony,” my friend Riley said to me as we rode an Uber to the party, “you need to stay the whole party. You know I don’t like that bitch Evelyn.”

“But she invited you to the party,” I said with a laugh.

“She’s your friend, not mine. She only invited me so you’d show up.”

“I really wish you’d put some effort into getting to know her, Riley. She’s a little extra but…”

“A little extra? Boy, please! Tamar Braxton is a little extra. Evelyn is the fucking queen of extra.”

I rolled my eyes and laughed before saying, “Just avoid her and talk to some of the cute niggas that are gonna be there. Her cousin Marlo is from Jersey and he’s bi. He’s gonna be there, and he loves fem niggas with long legs like you.”

“Is he cute?”

“He has that Jordan Calloway thing going on. Brotha is fine.”

“Ooh, I love me some Jordan Calloway. Alright, I will keep my self preoccupied with trying to get his dick tonight. Who else is gonna be at the party?”

“I know she invited a few other people who work with us at LeBeau Fashions. I think she invited some straight male models, too.”

“You think any of them will be trade?”

“I doubt it. You know most of them are lame ass wannabe rappers and shit, so they put on that homophobe front thinking it will get them into the industry.”

He shook his head and said, “True.”

We arrived at Evelyn’s apartment building in Flatbush a few minutes later. There were a few people hanging out in front of the building; but no one me nor Riley knew, so we entered the building and took the elevator up to the floor Evelyn’s apartment was on. I got another text from Graham saying he really wanted to see me that night, which was cute. I texted him back saying if the party was lame, I’d leave early.

Me (Sony)

“Just as I expected,” Riley said as we entered the party. “This shit is lame as fuck.”

I nudged him in the side and said, “Please do not start any drama with Evelyn tonight. Go find you some dick.”

“Shit, you don’t have to tell me twice.” He split up from me and headed over to a group of guys.

I looked around to see if I could spot Evelyn anywhere, but she wasn’t in sight. So, I decided to go make myself a drink. I assumed the drinks were in the kitchen because I didn’t see them anywhere else, so I headed there. The moment I stepped inside and saw Chris sitting up on a counter talking to some white boy, my mouth damn near dropped to the floor. Before I could back up, he looked towards the entryway and noticed me standing there.

Chris

“Sony,” he said while rudely dismissing the white boy with his hand. “Long time no see, baby.”

“What the hell are you doing here, Chris?” I asked while folding my arms in anger. “I thought I told you to stay the fuck away from me and my friends.”

“My boy Travis got an invite and he brought me with him. I think he’s fucking your girl, Evelyn right now in her bedroom.”

“Whatever.” I turned to leave, but he hopped down from the counter and stopped me.

“Yo, what’s the rush? You ignore me on social media, you changed your number and now you don’t wanna talk to me? I’m not gonna try anything, baby. We’re in a small ass apartment with a bunch of people.”

“Chris, I wasn’t kidding when I told you I’d go to the police if you ever fucked with me again. I’m done with you.”

“I’ve changed.”

“You’ve changed? In five months, you’ve changed? Fuck you, Chris.”

“Damn, it’s like that?”

“Yes, it’s like that! You’re lucky I didn’t go to the cops. And don’t you even think of following me or doing anything else because I will get my boyfriend to fuck you up.”

He chuckled as he asked, “Boyfriend?”

“Yes. He’s six-foot-five just like you and he will beat your punk ass.”

“So, where is this magical boyfriend of yours?”

“Go to hell, Chris. Go straight to hell.” I turned away from him again but he grabbed my arm hard. “What are you doing? Let go of me?” I hit him in the chest and tried to pull away from him. “Chris, let me go right now!”

He smiled again and let my arm go before saying, “I’m sorry, baby. I just…I missed you. I still think about you and what we had.”

“That’s right, it’s what we had. Do not talk to me again tonight.”

I hurried out of the kitchen and tried to find Riley but couldn’t. I looked back to see Chris still standing in the kitchen entryway watching me. Without seeing Riley or Evelyn around, I began to panic. The moment Chris became preoccupied in a conversation with someone, I made a break for the front door and left the party as quickly as I could. Instead of taking the elevator, I took the stairs. I kept thinking he was going to know I left and would follow me, but no one else entered the stairwell as I made my way down to the ground floor.

Chris was the ex-boyfriend I mentioned before, the one that put me through an emotional rollercoaster for two years. We met at an underground fashion show in Manhattan and it was a combination of lust and love at first sight. I was there because I had a contract designing for the Haus of Noir, an exclusive fashion house that focused only on black and dark grey clothing and accessories. He was there to model clothing for another underground designer. We exchanged looks behind the curtain for most of the show. Then as we were leaving, he offered me a ride home. We fucked in my apartment for two hours and then I never expected to see him again. About two days later, he found me on social media and told me he was openly bisexual and that he wanted to be my boyfriend.

“Baby, where are you?” I asked Graham over the phone as I walked through the streets of Flatbush behind a group of people I didn’t know.

“I’m at the Sprint store on Fulton Street with my friends,” he told me.

“Good, I’m gonna get an Uber to bring me there.”

“Sony, what’s wrong? You sound…”

“I’m fine. I just wanna see you.”

“I wanna see you, too, baby.”

“I’ll get the car to take the Flatbush Avenue Extension, so I’ll be there in no time.”

“Alright.”

I turned off into a corner store and used the Uber app to get a car to pick me up from there. When it arrived a little while later, I hurried out to it and that’s when Evelyn called me. I answered the call, “I was at the party but never saw you. Where the hell were you?”

“I was with Travis,” she said with a laugh. “You remember him, don’t you? He’s the model with…”

“He’s Chris’s friend. Evelyn, Chris was at the party.”

“Oh my God. Sony, I am so sorry.”

“No, that was fucked up.”

“I didn’t know Travis had brought him. Travis just walked up to me and talked me into going into my room.”

“Well while you were getting dicked down, I got cornered by Chris in your kitchen.”

“What did he say? He didn’t threaten you or anything, did he?”

“No, but he was acting weird as fuck. You know I don’t want to be around him, Evelyn.”

“I know and I am so sorry. You know I would never intentionally put you and him in the same place like that.”

“Still, it was creepy so I got the fuck out of there.”

“You couldn’t have taken Riley’s annoying ass with you?”

“Bitch, I fucking dipped the moment I seen Chris was there. I don’t want him learning where I’ve moved to.”

“Why all the fine ones gotta be so damn crazy?”

“Speak for yourself. Graham is sexy and is in his right mind.”

“Mmm hmm, so why haven’t you done the deed with him?”

“Because I’m doing things differently this time around. Besides, Graham and I have done some things. We just haven’t done everything yet.”

She laughed and said, “You and them fine ass bearded niggas, I swear.”

“Look, I would’ve stayed at your party a little longer had he not been there. I was going to get a drink and boom; this nigga was right there in your kitchen. Had me shook.”

“My bad, Sony. I can’t apologize to you enough. Had I known he was here, you know I would’ve told you.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s okay. You can make it up to me by paying for lunch tomorrow.”

“I got you, boo-boo.”

“I’m about to meet up with Graham and some of his friends. I’ll talk to you later, girl.”

“Alright. Bye, love.”

“Goodnight.” I ended the call just as the car turned onto Fulton Street. When the car pulled up to the Sprint Wireless store, I confirmed the payment to my card plus the tip and hopped out.

Graham

“There he is,” Graham said to his friends as I entered the store. He put his arm around me and told me, “We’re all about to get something to eat so…” He noticed the look on my face and asked, “Baby, is something wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m good.”

“Come on y’all, let’s go get something to eat.”

“Let’s go to the IHOP on Livingston,” said one of his friends. “We can walk there from here, it’s right around the block.”

Graham and I became friends a few weeks after I broke up with Chris. We met at a party and then later ran into each other repeatedly because he was a photographer at some of the fashion shows I worked on. So we started this friendship and for the longest, I thought he was straight. When I learned he was in fact gay, I did make some advances but I’d already told him I was recovering from a bad breakup so he insisted that we take things slow. Over four months later, we were boyfriends but we hadn’t done much past oral sex. There was reluctance on both our parts to rush things.

As me and Graham followed behind his friends towards the IHOP, I asked him, “What made you and your friends want to hang out in a Sprint store?”

“Phil and his girl were already there, so the rest of us met up there.”

“Oh, okay.”

He put his arm around me as we walked and asked, “You sure you okay, baby?”

“Yeah. I’m sure. I wish I would’ve skipped Evelyn’s party and just met up with you. Did you drive tonight?”

“Yeah. My car is parked down Fulton.”

“Well, after we stuff our faces with pancakes, how about we go back to your place?”

“My roommate is gonna be home. Why don’t we just go back to your place?”

“No. My neighbor has been listening to some grunge music lately and he plays it really loud.”

“I guess we can go back to my place then. It ain’t like we’re gonna do anything anyway.”

“We’ve been doing stuff.”

He laughed a little and put his mouth close to my ear as he whispered, “I do love the taste of that sweet ass, baby.”

I giggled and told him, “You are so nasty.”

After eating in IHOP with his friends, we said goodnight to them and walked to his car. He drove us to his apartment in the Crown Heights area. The real reason why I didn’t want to go back to my place was because I still wasn’t one hundred percent sure that Chris hadn’t followed me from Evelyn’s place. I hoped that he didn’t because he’d know where Graham lived, but at least he wouldn’t have known where I lived.

“You’re lucky I cleaned this room up,” Graham said as we entered his bedroom. He closed and locked the door before telling me, “Get out them clothes.” He burst out laughing and quickly said, “I’m just playing, baby.”

“Yeah right,” I said while rolling my eyes. I sat down on his bed and took my shoes off before asking, “Can we watch a movie? I wanna cuddle up and watch a movie.”

“We can watch whatever you want.” He bent down and kissed my lips before pulling back and taking off his shoes.

“Hey baby?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you remember the bad breakup I told you about when I first met you?”

“Yep. What about it?”

“At Evelyn’s party tonight, I ran into my ex.”

The moment I said that, he froze up. He slowly sat down beside me on the bed and asked, “Did you speak to him?”

“Yes, and it was very awkward.”

“Awkward how?”

“Well, he kept calling me baby and…I don’t know. It was just weird. I told him to stay away from me. I didn’t even know he’d be at the party. I left as fast as I could.”

“Sony, what happened between you and him?”

“A lot happened. I did tell you he’s a model and that’s how I met him. I just haven’t told you everything.” I took a deep breath before revealing, “He hit me.”

“What?!”

“It was only once and that was when I broke it off. We were together for two years but the day he hit me was when I ended it. But it didn’t end there. He started stalking me and I had to threaten to go to the cops to get him to back off. Then I changed jobs and moved to a different part of Brooklyn. I changed my number and blocked him from my social media accounts. Tonight was my first time seeing him since before I met you.”

“No wonder why you’ve been acting strange tonight. Sony, why didn’t you tell me earlier tonight?”

“Because you were with your friends and I didn’t want to burden you with nonsense.”

“It’s not nonsense. Baby, if you need me to talk to that nigga then…”

“No. He knows not to try anything. I’m not going to let him scare me into changing jobs and moving again.”

“Do you still think about him?”

“No, I don’t. The only person I think about is you. I don’t have to worry about you snapping on me or you snorting a bunch of coke and then locking me in a bathroom overnight.”

“He’s a cokehead?”

“I’m not sure about now but when I was with him he was. I never even tried the stuff and never will.”

“Good, because you know how I feel about drugs. I’ve seen too many people mess their lives up over that. Damn near every model is on it. I have to use Photoshop on so many of the pics I take because so many people are strung out on that crap.”

“Whether Chris really has changed as he claimed tonight or not, I’ll never look back at him again. That chapter of my life is closed, and nothing will reopen it.”

Graham kissed me and made me feel comfortable as we cuddled up on his bed and watched a movie. With my head on his chest and his arms around me, I felt a level of security that I knew I wouldn’t have felt had I went home that night. But I’d later find out that it was a false sense of security. No one person can keep you safe from demons, past or present. Sooner or later, those demons catch up to you and force you to confront them head on.

[Disclaimer]: Pictures used do not reflect the sexuality or personality of people in the pictures. They only serve as visual examples of the characters.

#D.A. Morrison #short story #Morrison'sSummerSeries #drama #love #sus #suspense #dark #toxic relationships #former lover #new relationship #black lgbt #lgbt fiction #fiction

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wildlyhardphilosopher-blog · 5 years

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Dog Training Mat | Best Methods Here

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Dog Training Mat | Best Methods Here

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hilow · 7 years

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5 Ways Hitch Dreyse Will Outlive All of You

so i have a lot of thoughts about Hitch, and honestly i have never really collected or posted them before but i’ve been thinking about her character a lot lately, and so i decided maybe i should do so. There’s always been stuff floating around about her, and i never really resonated too hard with most of the fandom views, so i think i’ll try putting into my words what i think about her (and some on marlo) as a character and where her position *may* stand right now (if she shows up again.) This wasn’t supposed to get so in depth but it did, and hopefull it can help other people see her better than how she presents herself at face value, becuase she is SO interesting. Here you are! My first ever meta post! What happens next may shock you! More under the cut!

Hitch is a survivor. Every decision she has made, and every path that she has walked down has hinged on this trait. Her motivation has always been deeply rooted in herself and the safest route she can take, to keep her head above the proverbial water. Despite this, there are many times where this has been challenged by her emotions and attachments, (mostly through Marlowe and Annie) although throughout she never lets go of this instinctual drive to survive in a world where staying safe and comfortable isn’t the easiest option. I don’t have a lot of input on what her upbringing may be, but I suspect she more than likely came from a poorer family, with little hope for a comfortable life. She’s materialistic and driven, but a dirty liar with a charming personality. Clearly the best course of interest for her would be to join the military and work her way into the Military Police. The appeal of high reward and little effort (after the initial work to get there) is absolutely the ideal situation for a person with no easier options, and an inherent drive to stay alive.

PART 1: I Ain’t In It For Your Revolution...

We can see this survival instinct in an earlier interaction with Boris:

It is a baseless rumor. While i do like to headcanon that Hitch is more than likely a pretty sexual person (judging mostly by her tendency to flirt and comment about trolling around for boys-- mostly in Lost Girls though she’s fairly flirty in normal content), if this is what he’s implying (and it seems like he is) it’s more than likely a rumor that she’s brushed off, or rather decided not to directly confront. Her response is a challenge (or in the anime(dub): “I don’t know what you’re implying-- why don’t you clarify?”) to get Boris to detail the rumor to her face. A rumor like this, to a person like her, wouldn’t mean too much for her in the long run.

So far this has mostly worked in her favor. She accomplished her goal. Clearly she had enough ability to get there on her own, despite the rumors. It wouldn’t do her any good to confront the rumors, as that would only put her right back in a spotlight. It wouldn’t do her any good to pursue that supposed route as a means to get into the Military Police in the first place, as there’s not many options that would lend to the outcome she wanted. The best course of action would be to use her own abilities, keep up her facade, and get into the Military Police quietly.

In that regard, Boris’ accusation seems rather silly, and pointless; it’s just a rumor. It serves her no merit, and does her no real harm without her giving any reason to believe it might be true. Her challenge is a deflection that gives the accusation as much room as it deserves. This, in general, is a common tactic for insecure men in general; to try and use sexual harassment and insinuation to ‘put a woman in her place’, and Hitch challenges this with an indifferent “Huh? What do you mean?”, to try and force him to be specific. If there was any merit in his comments, why would he know anything about it anyway?

She may be driven to survive, and although there are others who are much louder about their intentions (characters like Marlowe and Jean who loudly PROCLAIM their intent (”GONNA BE MP AND LIVE THE GOOD LIFE!” // “I’M GOING TO RISE IN THE RANKS AND FIX THIS ROTTEN GOVERNMENT!”) and other sweeping declarations), those people only serve to put themselves under the scrutiny of others. At least, if everyone sees you as lazy, if everyone thinks you have little motivation or care for what you’re doing, if you’re written off as just a flirt with no real drive, no one expects much from you and so you can fly under the radar. I believe her veil of laziness is very much intentional, to keep attention off of her and help her reach her own goals (the safety of the MP/living the good and safe life inside wall Sina).

PART 2: Spoiler Alert: I Care About Things Sometimes

I think she’s the sort of person to have many acquaintances, though careful not to have close friends. Unfortunately for Hitch, she became get attached to Annie pretty quickly (again, going into Lost Girls canon and future chapters), and then to Marlowe. Both of these attachments end up bringing her to show more of the ‘real’ Hitch under her ‘lazy’ persona. Both of these people also give her somewhat of a shield to hide behind; Annie is someone who everyone else is wary of, someone who comes off as strong, someone who the rest of the group doesn’t want to bother with. For Hitch, it’s beneficial to hang around someone like this to keep people off her back. Despite Annie’s unapproachable personality, Hitch becomes so attached that she frequently brings her up well past the Destruction of Stohess arc.

Marlowe is sort of a coin-flip. If he did achieve his goal, it would be beneficial to be friendly with him. Otherwise, being associated with someone shaking things up could put her in a position that could be dangerous to her way of life. She keeps herself distant at first, making fun of him and throwing derogatory comments (that become fond later on though no less sharp), although it ends up highlighting the affection she has for him by singling him out despite his overbearing personality. That affection only grows as they’re brought up again in later chapters (59, specifically).

Her attachment shows alongside her very apparent abilities in the same chapter, while Jean is testing them. Despite her selfish tendencies, when she has the opportunity to run from the ‘threat’ that Jean presents, she comes back for Marlowe, putting aside her own chance for safety in favor of rescuing him from the deranged renegade about to kill her friend. Additionally, she accuses Levi and the Survey Corps for the destruction of Stohess, while bound and held under armed guard; she yells at Humanity’s Strongest on behalf of the deaths she believes they are responsible for. This chapter makes it clear that Hitch is much more than the persona she puts on to keep off of the radar, that when the chips are down she is someone you can count on... but only if she cares about you.

This is when Hitch and Marlowe’s relationship begins to shine. Selfish, save-your-own-skin Hitch who was given an escape route by Mr. Lawful Good Marlowe comes back despite herself to save him, something not even he thought was in her character. It’s a turning point in his view of Hitch. In the face of an actual dire situation, she showed (arguably more) bravery, rushing into a fight against what she thought was a pistol with a STICK. Though it would have been much more like her perceived character to run to a safe place and report to her regiment, and much easier, she returned to save him. This also highlighted how much she had begun to care about Marlowe personally. It’s then that he starts to see her as something more of an equal to him, someone who may actually share his drive, rather than the selfish and careless person he thought she was.

PART 3: Concerns Regarding Idiots

All of this leads to their later disagreement as Marlowe intends to leave to join the Survey Corps. Where he respects and admires their ability to get shit done and their heroic motives, Hitch is just happy to be done with it all. She tries to talk him out of it, because in her mind because it’s certain death, but he’s stunned that she’s backtracked so far from the bravery she showed in the forest when she came back for him.

The entire conversation comes down to misunderstanding. In an effort to keep up her persona and keep him alive, Hitch berates him, insults him, trying to force Marlowe to doubt himself and how he might fit in with the Survey Corps, to dissuade him from joining. Unfortunately by being dishonest, he takes it as a personal attack and his view shifts. Suddenly Hitch isn’t the brave fellow soldier who came back for him, suddenly she’s throwing all of the ideals he was beginning to think she shared with him back in his face, and he’s understandably hurt. In response, he throws down a wall between them and tells her he misjudged her and leaves without another word. If she had been truthful, if she had told him honestly how she was feeling, and of her fears that he was running off to get himself killed (hadn’t she shown him already that she cared?!) rather than approached it in a way that she felt was still preserving herself, there is a chance that he may have listened to her and his fate may have been different.

Hitch fell back on her survival instinct. She deflects anything she finds uncomfortable. Although this served her well against Boris (in the way of a sexual harassment designed to break her down), the same technique is useless against Marlowe. She did not consider the situation or the source; Marlowe is not Boris. An earnest appeal to join the ‘good fight’ together is not the same. At the end, on the battlefield, he thinks back to her sleeping, sounding regretful, and questions why he thinks about her in the brief final moments before his death, exhibiting that despite their rough parting and his apparent change in opinion, Hitch still has managed to become someone he cares for.

On the other side, upon regrouping with everyone later, Hitch drops that teasing persona for a moment while Flocke reflects on Marlowe. He comments on Marlowe’s character, praising him for leading them on in the battle despite the horrific odds, and Hitch quietly, genuinely, agrees that he was a good man, and laments that that was the reason he wouldn’t listen to her (well intentioned, poorly executed) attempts to keep him from joining. When Flocke insinuates that Marlowe regretted the decision, she immediately flips back on her teasing, carefree mask and makes a joke before leaving, to avoid confronting the thought in front of the others.

PART 4: ...But Fuck the System

Regarding her possible current place in the story where it is now, I believe that Hitch could become someone who plays a smaller significant part moving forward. Clearly, she isn’t going to pursue any of Marlowe’s goals (Hitch is not suited to lead in any setting let alone in a military position), since she wasn’t even able to convey honestly how she felt before he left. She is still that selfish, guarded person. So the question is: would she join the Survey Corps? I say no. Doing so would go against every part of her character established to this point. Any selflessness that she displayed came for her feelings people, rather than a loyalty to organizational concepts or ideals. She does not share the same inherent drive as Marlowe, and so the disconnect was natural. Aside from that, she has been given every opportunity to build a STRONG disdain for the Survey Corp as a whole; from the destruction of Stohess, to their behavior towards her and Marlowe during the Uprising Arc, to Marlowe’s eventual demise. The fact that Annie is still, as of right now, unaccounted for during the timeskip and supposedly still in her crystal, and Hitch’s previous attachment to her, gives me enough evidence to believe that Hitch may end up becoming involved with that situation in the future (either during the skipped years or at present). Marlowe may be gone, but with the possibility of Annie still being alive, Hitch could very well serve as one of the only true allies she has. Hitch blamed the destruction of Stohess on the Survey Corps. It was their fault for forcing her to change in the middle of the city, their fault for endangering the lives of the citizens. Annie may have lied about who she was, but it was them who initiated the battle within city limits. Supporting Annie, for Hitch, would stem more from her connection to people than to the abstract ideals of something like the Survey Corps. To her, Annie’s body count (compared to other shifters) is low, and in the end it may not matter to her anyway. She has no motivation to serve a group that failed Marlowe, a person who was morally good and pure, who just wanted to help people and clean up a rotten government because it was the right thing to do. The system stomped him into the dust, all for the sake of a questionable military victory. With that in mind, Annie becomes an obvious choice to drive Hitch, if she does resurface during or before the current arc.

Additionally, Isayama has shown several times that he is fond of Hitch and that there may be more to her than we know right now (like this comment he made on a fan’s art of her from August 2016).

PART 5: A Lawful Good and Chaotic Neutral Walk Into A Bar

Hitch has been a very interesting character from the start. She’s remained one of my favorite characters of all time, and for good reason. She and Marlowe played off of one another’s personalities in such a deep and complex way that I was hooked in almost immediately. Her contrast with Marlowe only enhanced their similarities, and broadcasted what one another was all about. Hitch’s ploy is so easy to take at face value, even as a reader. The subtext shows very clearly what sort of a driven and clever person she is, using all of the resources around her to quietly create a place of safety and security for her own sake, while at the same time showing empathy and attachment to people and the world around her to a degree. I believed initially that Marlowe was going to be a foil for Eren (more than likely for something like the serum situation, though clearly that didn’t pan out as I expected and I’m still upset about it. I can write something on that later maybe), but in the end it may turn out that Marlowe’s Well Intended End may end up being the motivation for something bigger in Hitch in the future.

In the end, I think whatever choices she makes or has made will keep her around, on screen or off. She is a survivor, after all.

#snk #hitch dreyse #snk meta #hitch #aot meta #carol talks about hitch for 3896489273 years #lmao I hope this was okay #i just want everyone to know why I love her so much!!#they're so good #they're the best #Also maybe I'll color more manga panels later because that was sort of fun #tldr; hitch is the flying titan #HAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHA #also thanks to everyone who helped me edit!!#and also everyone who proofread and who told me to do this in the first place #y'all are the real mvps #now what college professor is going to come grade me on this ridiculous research paper #my meta

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