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ficthots · 1 year

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About You

A/N: Go listen to "About You" by the 1975 before reading this. Go do it. That's what it's based on. Go. It hurts, it yearns, it aches, it burns. As always let me know what you guys think and enjoy!

Warnings: SMUT. DNI if you are under 18. 18+ Only.

Word Count: 6.6k+

I know a place

It’s somewhere I go when I need to remember your face

We get married in our heads

Something to do while we try to recall how we met

Everyone talks about soulmates. Mainly in a fashion that describes the utter yearning and passion one desires theirs. We’ve been told about them since we were children. How when you meet the person, you just know they are the one meant to partner with you through the hellscape that is life. They hold your hand and make it better, enjoyable, excitable. Your soulmate is who you crave. Spending most of your life dreaming of them and patiently waiting for them to make their grand appearance.

What no one does talk about is when you have your soulmate and lose them.

It’s far more common than people realize. Many errors that become irreparable over time, fearing the next big steps that accompany life long partnerships, not being able to communicate well enough with one another. Perfectly reasonable and common mishaps that can cause you to lose your soulmate.

But those weren’t any of the reasons why you lost yours.

A year long tour, a brand new album, another impending tour meant he was happy to be home for the prolonged break they had been anticipating. The last year of their lives had been upside down and thrilling, but left him numb in a sense he did not entirely understand. Plus, he had never wanted to sleep in his own bed more.

Quick pitstop to his own dwelling in Nashville to ensure his house hadn’t burnt down since he had last laid eyes on it a few months prior was not as comforting as he had been hoping. Jet lag, pure exhaustion, and looming seasonal depression that never failed to take him in his grasp had him eyeing the darkened rooms with contempt.

He didn’t know what he had been expecting, but the disappointment that sat low in his stomach and burned the back of his throat as his eyes wandered over the belongings in his home weighed heavier than ever before. Maybe it was because it was only a week until Christmas and he hadn’t seen his parents for too long.

Yeah, that’s what it was.

Turning on every light as he moved through the space, quickly turning on music to drown out the silence that screamed at him, and moving to the laundry room to throw his suitcases contents in the wash. A monotonous night.

Over the following days it didn’t change. He found himself checking his phone to see when his flight was to get back to his hometown for Christmas. After being surrounded by people everyday all day for as long as he had, he grew bored unbelievably fast. TV didn’t interest him, no good books sat on his light wood shelves, and mediation seemed ridiculous with how high energy he was.

It all seemed pointless.

As the plane's wheels skidded across the tarmac and he saw the flurries continuously falling outside, his excitement stirred in him again. Some sense of home was going to be offered to him to enjoy the holiday with his family that he hadn’t had since it happened.

He baked with his mom, watched every movie he could with his siblings, wrapped the presents he had picked for everyone meticulously as he traveled around the world, was so busy that for the first time, his mind didn’t wander to where it normally did.

When he laid in his childhood bed that night, he realized it had been almost a full forty-eight hours since he had thought about what he swore to everyone he didn’t anymore. He quietly sobbed, guilt wracking him as he battled within himself.

It was what he was supposed to be doing. Healing and regaining pieces of his soul that he had lost along the way. Letting joy seep into aspects of his days that hadn’t peeked out for so long. Continuing on with the motions of life. Forgetting.

Yet he felt nauseous, sick to his stomach with anger. Feeling like he had betrayed a section of his life that was over that he wasn’t ready to let go of. Furious that those he loved the most seemed to have moved on without him.

Staring at the poster covered ceiling, face hurting from the tears shed that had dried in the warm room, he made a decision. Slipping into warmer clothes, grabbing the bag of supplies that he had hidden in the back of his closet like a shameful secret, he made his way to the place.

The warm glow of Christmas lights hugged the living room, parents opting to leave the tree on for Christmas Eve. He walked. He walked all the way to it. He could’ve driven, should’ve driven. It wasn’t safe to walk this far at night in the snow, but he didn’t care. Couldn’t find it in himself to care.

He had never felt such misery as he did in the moment when his eyes set sight on it for the first time. He had to stop his movements, body hunching over, forcing him to take a breath and calm his breathing down.

He didn’t know what he was expecting, but disappointment sat low in his stomach as he approached it. Pulling out the dollar store garland and beginning to wrap it around the wood, he hummed to Darlene Love.

“Stay here, honey. I’ll grab you a hot chocolate,” you plopped onto the chair as your mom wandered off. You knew you wouldn’t see her for the rest of the night until it was time to go home. You hated these events.

Christmas work parties that your parents forced you to tag along to, feeling bad for leaving you at home during the holiday season. Your mom loved to say how this time of year was for families and that meant you sitting in the corner of the ballroom your dad's company had rented from some swanky hotel for its employees to get so drunk they couldn’t remember the new year.

“Which of your parents works here?” You startled lightly at the random voice that appeared next to you. His brown hair almost sat in his eyes, the most perfect smile you had ever seen graced his features. Dimples.

“Uh, my dad,” he perked up, eyes going wide. “Mine too!” You giggled at how easily excitable he was. Nerves sat in your chest, not knowing how to carry a regular conversation with a boy your age. “I’m Josh,” he nudged your side, elbow slightly poking into you as he did.

You gave your name and before you knew it, the two of you were fast friends, giggling as you pointed out the train wrecks of the holiday party together. Christmas music blasted through the room and you two watched as coworkers writhed around on one another, even though this was supposed to be a family friendly work social, they never were.

Eyeing the refreshments table, you grabbed his arm and nodded over in the direction of the table. “Want some eggnog?” You wagged your eyebrows suggestively and despite how obvious you were being, Josh didn’t realize what you were getting at and agreed.

He followed you over and when you grabbed the ladle of the adult eggnog, he grabbed your wrist. “That has alcohol in it!” He whisper screamed to you. You rolled your eyes, looking around to see if any of the adults near the table noticed and handed him a cup, forcing him to walk away with it.

“Be cool!” Your hand landed between his shoulder blades, turning him back towards your seats. His hands trembled as he held the small plastic cup in between them. You sipped it and laughed at the burn that went down your throat as you swallowed.

Cheersing his cup as he watched you with the biggest doe eyes you had ever seen, you offered him a soft smile. “I like you, Joshua. Think I’ll keep you around.”

He had never heard anything better in his life.

Snowflakes fell heavy and landed on your hair and eyelashes as you dragged Josh through the field to get to the secret hiding place. It was where you two went when everyone else became too much and you needed to be sequestered from them for just a little bit.

A small glimpse of heaven reserved for just the two of you.

The gazebo was already decorated for Christmas despite Thanksgiving still being just a few days away. You halted as you took in the sight before you, tears welling as you saw the decorations littering the space. His arms wrapped around you from behind, icy cheek squished against yours as he laughed at your reaction.

“Figured you had been talking about Christmas for so long that I would surprise you,” you broke from his grasp in a full blown sprint to get to the covered deck. A small Christmas tree sat illuminated on the far side, the railings were wrapped in garland with bright warm lights tangled in them, bows took up the posts.

A burrow of blankets and pillows were along the center of the floor, waiting for its visitors to wrap themselves in. When you turned and saw him approaching you, cheeks a dusty rose, tip of his nose like Rudolph’s, the beanie sitting low on his brow doing little to keep him warm, you fell in love all over again.

Josh had a way of doing that. Forcing new feelings of love to bubble up every time you saw him. You couldn’t even remember how many times you had fallen for him, far too many reasons now to pinpoint what they all were.

He pulled you to him, reclaiming his personal space heater since he was always freezing unlike you who constantly radiated heat. Your arms wrapped around his neck, locking wind chapped lips together as you pulled him to lay down with you. The fuzzy blankets encompassed you, sheltering you from the outside as you felt him shaking from the cold despite your attempts to keep him warm.

Giggles mixing as your mitten clad hands cradled his cheeks. He laid flush on top of you, breath coming out in puffs between you both as you beamed at him.

He was in awe, entirely mesmerized as he looked at you. The soft glow of the Christmas lights danced on the glassy irises that peered up at him with enamored love. Beanie nearly falling off the messy locks that rested below it. Heavy breaths escaping your aching lips as you pulled him to you.

Moaning in utter relief, your lips a safe haven that embraces him with warmth and desire upon each meeting, eyes instantly shutting as he savored the feeling. Nothing in the world would offer him the same semblance of safety than you did when you merged and became one with him.

It was dark out, the only light that held the area was from the small lights he had put up just for you earlier that week. Your hands escaped your mittens, finding his pressing hard on and palming him through the sweats that covered his ice-like legs.

His breath stuttered in his throat, eyes shooting open as he looked at you like you were insane for even suggesting what you were. That mischievous grin that set his stomach alight with nerves that he had grown far too accustomed to spread across your face.

“You little gremlin, we are outside!” His worried tone mixed with laughter as you undid the tie of his pants, nodding eagerly at his words. “Oh I know, snowflake, but I need you so bad. You can’t wear these pants and not expect me to pounce on you.”

His eyes widened as you pulled his dick from the confines of his briefs, but quickly shut as you pumped him. “Make it quick for me, okay?” He nodded in response, hastily removing his hands from his gloves and immediately tucking into the waistband of your own sweats, subtly telling you to lift your hips so he could pull them down.

Lips colliding in a messy kiss, teeth clacking together, freezing tips of noses pushing against each other, clawing at one another to get as close as possible. Josh whimpered out as his tip slipped in, nudging against your walls, savoring the superior warmth that wrapped around him.

As he started moving, you encouraged him, legs spread, uttering praises to shower over him. Head rolling to the side, fighting the urge to let your eyes shut because watching him perform for you like this was captivating. His brow would furrow in focus, tongue constantly swiping across his plump lips, chest rising and falling rapidly as he grew closer and closer to his climax.

Your hand moved to the spot between his unruly eyebrows, smoothing out the skin that bundled together in thought. He stopped his movements as you did and couldn’t fight the large smile that took over his face, the miniscule gap in his front teeth displayed for you.

“What are you doing, flake?” Your teeth sank into your lip as your smile grew, feeling him nestled deep in you, tip brushing your g spot. “Admiring my beautiful man,” his cheeks flushed even deeper at your words, unable to hold eye contact as embarrassment coursed through him.

Fingers dipping under his chin to pull his attention back to you, you pulled him to you, murmuring out against his lips. “I love you,” as he said it back, complete euphoria took you over, all muscles in your body momentarily tensing before relaxing as bliss circled around you.

He finished seconds after, covering your entire face in kisses as he pulled your sweats back up, adjusting himself back and pulled you into him, nuzzling his face into your neck.

“What do you want for Christmas?” He finally spoke out after you two laid entangled in silence, watching the snowfall together. You smiled at him and sighed, shrugging. “I don’t think you’re ready for this,” his fingers dug into your sides, a laugh flowing from him as he did.

“Oh yeah? Gonna bleed me dry this season?” You sat up, straddling his lap and laughing out loud. “Absolutely. You’re a huge rockstar now. I want a whole lot,” his arm tucked behind his head, a smile taking over his features, eyebrows shooting up as one hand held your hip.

“And what is a whole lot? What do you want, mama? I’ll get you anything you want.” Your hands rested on his chest and looked out to the snow blanketing the grass, your footsteps from earlier long since covered, eyes looking around the gazebo at the decorations.

You spoke quieter, not wanting anyone else in the world to hear what you were going to say. It was meant for Josh and Josh only. That’s how it was supposed to be. “Well for starters I want a new sweater because you ruined mine last month when we were getting our Halloween makeup on,” he laughed and nodded wanting you to continue your list.

“Then, I want a new pair of earrings. I lost my hoops that I got from Target so I need another pair,” you leaned down, lips pressing against his as you spoke, “Can’t forget the car. I want that Mercedes that I saw in town in Nashville last summer,” his body shook with laughter at your words.

“That’s quite a jump. Sweater, earrings, and a car,” you nodded, sitting back up with a jolting force. “Oh, that’s not even it, baby.” You jumped off his lap and went to the snow despite his attempts at keeping you with him.

His eyes lit up as he watched you move back to the covered space, moving to the far side of the deck where the Christmas tree sat. “I want a winter wedding,” his arms propped himself up, gaze softening as he listened intently.

“I want a big poofy dress that makes me look like a pastry,” his head tipped back, laughing as he nodded. “I want Christmas lights everywhere. Maybe even a big Christmas tree,” his hand grabbed your own as you moved around the space, mind wandering into a dream state as you pictured it.

He pulled you back down to him as he let you finish. “And I want it right here. I want my big winter Christmas wedding right here,” Josh nodded, nose brushing yours as both your fingers tangled together. “Anything you want. Just tell me when and I’ll give it to you.”

You giggled, resting your forehead against his. “It’ll have to live in our heads for a little while longer. I still have too many details to figure out about it first, like how the hell we’re going to get ten ice cream cakes out here.”

The tangled Christmas lights had his frozen hands struggling to undo the heaped mess that laid before him. He cursed himself for not wearing a thicker beanie, tips of his ears like ice. It wasn’t meant to be decorated this late in the year.

Every year it was supposed to be done three days before Thanksgiving. When it was still cold, the chance of snow was present, but not near as blizzard-like as what he was sitting in. He was upset with himself for not doing this sooner.

He should’ve been here a month ago to do it. Why the hell had he not been out here to do it? Because it wasn’t his responsibility anymore, he spoke to himself, but breathed out in frustration. He hated himself for caring so much.

Even after all this time, he still cared. Cared to decorate this shitty gazebo that no one was going to see but himself in the middle of a freezing night. Cared because he promised to do this. He couldn’t not do it. He promised to.

No matter what, he was going to do this. Even though it was late. Because he hoped he wouldn’t be the only one to see it.

You and I

We’re alive

With nothing to do I could lay and just look in your eyes

Wait

And pretend

Hold on and hope that we’ll find our way back in the end

You hated summer. Despised it. What was so great about sweating buckets every time you stepped outside? It made everyone irritable, ruining any and all plans because heat exhaustion was such a large risk. You just hated it.

You used to feel the same way about spring. Until Josh made you fall in love with it.

The random rain showers that would tamp down the rising temperatures. The gorgeous flowers that were blooming for the first time that he would place at your front door every Sunday without fail. The soft breezes that would make the grass wave in the afternoons.

Spring was Josh. That’s why you loved spring.

He had found a park that you two had never been to, planning an entire afternoon for it, to drink a farewell to the spring season. That’s how you found yourself laying on a blanket after one of the most delicious lunches you had ever had, hand playing with the curls of your partner's hair as his head rested on your lap, feeling the breeze cascade against your skin.

When you looked down at him, his dimples were deep as he smiled at you. His deep brown eyes stared at you, gold flecks only visible from this close. You felt your heart skip a beat as you realized what you saw.

Your entire future with him. It was everything that was going to happen for you two. Spending the rest of your days with him by your side. What you didn’t anticipate was that future not happening.

There was no realm of possibility for you that did not include Josh as your person. That’s why when that became reality it sent you into some sense of purgatory.

Staring at the offer letter in your inbox, you felt like you were on cloud nine. All of the hard work that you had put in was being recognized. It wasn’t what you had been expecting, a raise and new job offer wasn’t even on your radar, but now as you looked at it, you were thrilled.

Josh wasn’t due home for two more days, allowing you plenty of time to figure out the most exciting way to tell him your news. Until he told you his.

It had been a week since he had told you. A year long world tour, a new album to follow immediately after, and another impending tour afterwards. Josh wanted you there for it all.

A week of trying to make a decision. A week of playing the overjoyed tone he had as he told you, grabbing your face and hearing the information tumble out of his lips in rapid speed. A week since he assumed you would be going with him.

He didn’t ask. He just told you. Told you when the first concert date was and when you all needed to be there by. He had an entire itinerary planned for every country they were scheduled to be in. It was going to be the time of your lives, he said.

Which was why you weren’t going to go.

Josh had gotten home from a meeting with their managers that encompassed planning out as much of the tour and responsibilities as possible, practically floating into the house and you sat on the couch waiting for him. His eyes lit up as he took you in and you offered as genuine of a smile as you could.

“Can we talk?” You spoke out as he leaned in to kiss you, letting him, but seeing the confused look take over his features as you spoke. “Of course, my little gremlin,” he chuckled as he sat on the coffee table, knees hitting as he tried to keep the situation light.

“Josh, I can’t go.” You forced out, eyes staring straight ahead, trying to gauge his reaction. “Go to what?” His smile never faltered, not understanding what you were saying. “The shows. The tour. All of it,” you could feel tears welling in your eyes, throat going tight as you spoke.

“What do you mean, baby? Of course you can. Don’t worry about the money part, I got that covered,” you cut him off as he tried to wave off your statement, pulling his wrist back as he tried to stand, shaking your head.

“I’m not going.” You sounded as sure as possible, voice still cracking as you said it. His face morphed into a look of bewilderment at you. “What do you mean you’re not going?” He was getting angry, emotion overpowering any logical thoughts that could have happened.

“I got offered a new job and I took it,” your chin wobbled as you watched his jaw set, ripping his wrist from your grasp and standing as he rubbed his eyes. It was quiet for far too long as he tried to figure out what to start with. “How long have you known about this?” His voice was even, unwavering.

“Since before you got back. I wanted to tell you, but you were so excited about the tour and I didn’t want to make it about me and I’m sorry I didn’t say anything earlier,” your words were tumbling as tears made tracks down your cheeks, hiccuping as guilt pummeled you.

He sighed, moving back towards you and taking your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him. “Baby, I’m not mad at you for taking the job. I’m mad that you didn’t tell me before I started planning all of this out,” his hands moved to his hips, seeing your reaction before sitting back down where he had been just moments before, “We’ll figure this out, okay?” His gaze had relaxed as he took in your wrecked state, trying to reassure you that it would be okay.

You shook your head at his words, eyes darting down to look at where the skin of your knee rubbed against his, feeling the scratchy hair brush against your leg. “I don’t think so,” you mumbled, but it was like you had just burned him. His hands moved from his hips, landing on your forearms.

His words were hastened, tripping over themselves as they rushed out like if he spoke quicker it would change what he knew was happening before his eyes. “What are you talking about? Of course we’ll figure this out. I’m going to have breaks during this, you can come see me on weekends, we’ll make it work,” your eyes locked with his and more tears flooded your vision as you sniffled.

“For how long? You’re gonna be gone for how long? I can’t do this for the foreseeable future until you’re back in a year and with me working a new job. It’s too much,” a sob wracked your body as he pulled away from you, moving to the other side of the living room, hands landing in his hair, eyes wild with shock and fear as it dawned on him what you were saying.

He scoffed, shaking hands landing on either bicep as he crossed his arms and faced you. “So, what? This is it? Are you saying we’re done?” Your head fell and rested on your knees as you heard his voice crack for the first time, knowing he was fighting the tears until he heard what your response was going to be.

You calmed your breathing down, wiping at your eyes and taking in the gorgeous boy before you. He was supposed to be your future. Your everything. He’s your soulmate. You were losing your soulmate and you felt like you were slowly ending yourself as you did.

“I think for now. We both have things we need to do. You need to go do this tour with your brothers and I need to go do my job. I don’t think that while we’re doing this we can manage our relationship, too.” His eyes shut, not able to look at you anymore. Despising you for saying what you were. Giving up so easily on what you two had. Hating you for making this happen.

But he knew you were right.

Deep down he knew that you two living apart for the better part of a year and some odd months was going to be too much to handle. Not with you taking a new job, him traveling and working, and just trying to manage life. It was too much.

He didn’t say anything else as he crossed the room to you, taking you in his arms, and letting you both cry until you just couldn’t anymore. You let Josh comfort you as you attempted to envision some semblance of a future that didn’t include him. You comforted Josh as he tried to understand what his life was going to be like without the tornado of a person you were.

When the sun rose that morning it was like a timer going off, telling you both that it was over. You clung to him, hands tangled in his hair as he crushed you to him, breathing each other in, trying to memorize the features that were going to be gone in the blink of an eye.

As you left that morning, Josh stood and watched as you waved to him as you drove off. He wanted to scream and chase after your car, begging you not to leave. Do anything he could to not let this course of actions happen.

But he didn’t.

Instead you both hold on to the hope that you would find your way back to each other in the end.

There was something about you that now I can’t remember

It’s the same damn thing that made my heart surrender

And I’ll miss you on the train

I’ll miss you in the morning

I never know what to think about

I think about you

It’s hard to pinpoint when you truly fall in love with someone. When all of their little quirks become your favorite aspects of them. Too many memories to recant when it could have been.

You, however, knew what it was that made you fall in love with him. There wasn’t an exact moment that you could think back on that you would be able to tell someone else. It was a plethora of memories.

How everyone despised game night with you two because you were so incredibly in sync that it was borderline unfair to the other teams. You could draw a circle during pictionary, nothing more, and he would know exactly what you had drawn.

“Beanbag chair!” Josh would scream the answer out before you could even finish. You would turn, dropping the marker and jumping into his lap as another point was marked down for you two. His brother would yell over everyone, “There’s no way they’re not cheating! How the hell did he get a beanbag chair from that?” Pointing at the drawing you would give a shit eating grin, planting a huge kiss on Josh as you cackled.

“Sorry, Jakey, we’re just too damn good. I know it can be frustrating losing so damn bad time and time again,” you teased him, feeling Josh’s hands tighten on you, prideful in how true it was. He would kiss the underside of your jaw as you sat on his lap until it was your team's turn again.

You two had so many inside jokes that it was downright annoying to everyone else around you two. Sitting at a dinner with friends, you and Josh would burst into a fit of laughter that had you gasping for breath as the waiter did something that no one else caught.

Shooting a look to each other, you snickered out, “At least he didn’t have the can opener,” and within seconds you were wiping tears from your eyes as Josh clutched at his side that ached from laughing so hard. Danny would roll his eyes at you both. “You’re so weird.”

No one got it, but it didn’t matter because he did.

That was what had you falling in love with Josh. How insanely paired you two were. It wasn’t uncommon for one of you to pick up what the other was saying, finishing the thought for them and giggling as you did.

He was your true person. Your soulmate.

Even months after it had happened you found yourself thinking of him far too often. It had been a horrible day at work. You had to fire your first person today and it had you rethinking every decision you had made in the past that led you to that position.

As you sat on the train home, you cried. People eyed you like you were absolutely crazy and maybe you were, but you didn’t know how to deal with it. His contact stared at you, daring you to make a move and do it.

This new responsibility was a lot to handle and you knew he would offer comfort. You exited out of that screen, going to Twitter and typing in his name. Immediately, pictures flooded the timeline of him being out at bars with friends.

One person talked about having just met him within the last few minutes. Your heart clenched, the decision ultimately being made for you. Josh didn’t need to be bugged tonight. Not while he was out having a good time with friends. You could deal with this.

Instead, you quietly cried to yourself the entire ride home.

Being told that time heals all wounds was an utter lie. It wasn’t true because with how much time had passed since you and Josh had last seen each other you should’ve been completely healed by now. Not the same as you were the morning you left.

It was an early Sunday morning and you were up with the sun. You didn’t know when it had changed that you were waking up so early, but you hated it. It made you think of him. The sun was starting to stream in through the curtains, coffee in hand, as you looked at the quiet and foreign space. Despite having lived in this apartment for as long as you had, it still wasn’t home. Nothing would be home.

When you put the record on that you did, you silently cried in your kitchen at your island. All you wanted to do was spend the morning like you always did with him.

Josh would have been up long before you, wanting to meditate and take in the energy of the morning as early as possible to replenish for the upcoming week. He would have fresh flowers sitting on the kitchen counter with your coffee right next to it.

Of course he knew you were not a morning person so he would let you slowly wake up as you went to the common space, steely demeanor changing as he would wrap an arm around you, singing to whatever he had playing through the house and forcing you to dance with him.

All you wanted was that back.

Your mind would drift off while doing mundane tasks and they would almost always go to him. Wondering what he was doing at that moment. If he was as bored as you were. Of course, he wasn’t. He was traveling the world while you sat in an office.

Despite all efforts to eliminate him it was no use. You couldn’t.

Do you think I have forgotten?

Do you think I have forgotten

About You

Christmas came far too quickly. What had once been your favorite time of year had you now feeling like a complete grinch. Your mom had begged you to fly out to spend the holiday at home with them. It was going to be good for you, you knew that.

It didn’t stop the pain though. Seeing the world having carried on with the glamor of the holiday season, not caring that it hurt you like it did. It was quiet at your parents house, only them and you. Your dad kept your spirits high, having bought gingerbread houses for you both to make a village out of. He had movies on deck for you. Had you help wrap presents.

It didn’t work.

That’s why on Christmas Eve you found yourself trudging out to the spot that you swore you weren’t going to go to no matter how much you wanted to. Bag of decorations in tow to do what you promised yourself you wouldn’t.

Your jaw fell slack as you saw the lights already wrapped on the railings, garland paired with it, but it was missing the bows and tree. Then you saw him. He stood behind it, finishing with the lights, but had come back around afterwards.

You both froze as you took each other in for the first time in over a year. He spoke first, dumbfounded that you were actually standing in front of him. Honestly, a bit worried that he was hallucinating from the freezing temperatures he had been in for so long.

“Hi.” You didn’t know what to say, worried your voice wouldn’t work even if you tried, so you offered a small wave back to him. He had cut his hair and it was the first time you had seen it in person. You had seen it online, unable to break that tie, but now that you were seeing it in real life, you saw how mature he looked.

You let your head fall, not wanting to let him in your vision, not sure what to do. “I didn’t know you were going to be here,” you finally choked out and it was like Josh had reached heaven. There had been nothing he missed more than the comfort the sound of your voice brought.

He cleared his throat, eyes darting around to remember what he was doing, how to talk to you again. “Yeah, my mom wanted us all together for Christmas,” you nodded, letting yourself move to the covered deck, wanting to get out of the snow.

“Of course,” you awkwardly laughed, feeling stupid for saying what you did. He chuckled with you, seeing you had the bag he had been missing. “Ah, you have the other stuff. Thought I lost it,” he scratched the back of his neck, cheeks burning crimson.

“Oh, yeah no. I had the other bag.” Neither of you said anything as you took the contents out, getting down on your knees to decorate the small tree. “So, why are you out here?” You finally spoke out, brow furrowing out of curiosity as to why he was here too, not wanting to overthink the possibilities that could have resembled yours.

“I always decorate it.” You hummed in response, eyes looking out of your peripheral and seeing his sharp features so close to yours, putting a small ornament on the tree branch. Awkward small talk was hard to force out between you two, but as you finished decorating, you didn’t want it to end.

Didn’t want to lose his presence. Didn’t want him to leave again.

You both stood back, taking in the gazebo, and smiling triumphantly at it. “Thank you for helping,” he spoke out, eyes taking you in as he tried to figure out how to end this encounter and leave despite every instinct in him telling him to stay.

“I gotta get back. Everyone will be up soon,” you nodded, throat closing and trying to fight the tears that were welling as you realized he was trying to get away. He was getting away again. “Yeah, for sure. I’ll-um, see you around.” He turned on his heel, walking in the direction he came in, but you couldn’t do it.

Couldn’t watch him walk away again.

“Josh!” You yelled it out, voice meak and screamed in desperation. He stopped, turning back towards you. “Please don’t go,” your hand was held out, like you were trying to grab him and still his motions, “I miss you.”

He didn’t know what to do. He took you in and couldn’t believe you were actually there. He felt like he was dreaming, like he was going to wake up from a nightmare that he had more than he’d like to admit. He didn’t want to ruin this. But he didn’t know what to do.

“I fucked it up. I was scared. So much was changing and I was scared. You were going to be gone for over a year, I was starting a new job, and I didn’t want to ruin your time while you were traveling, but it was stupid. I was stupid. I wanted you to have space so you could forget about the responsibility of me. But, I can’t do it without you, Josh. I can’t,” you were trying to catch your breath, but he had crossed the space so fast that you had no reaction time.

His lips collided with yours, hands pawing at you to get you as close to him as possible, and you were returning the urgency, terrified that this was all in your head. Desperate to keep him and do whatever you could to keep him.

Your kiss was the safe haven he had remembered and dreamed about. The all enveloping love and warmth that he had missed and craved for the entire time you had been apart. What he craved and needed.

When he pulled away, his forehead rested on yours, eyes squeezed shut, hands gripping yours. “Do you really think I could forget about you? I have spent the last year of my life miserable. I have missed you more than you could ever understand. I need my gremlin,” a wet laugh bubbled from you as he sniffled, chuckling with you.

“We can figure this out. We’ll figure this out.”

#ficthots #josh kiszka #joshua kiszka #greta van fleet #greta van fleet smut #greta van fleet fan fiction #josh kiszka fanfiction #josh kiszka imagine #josh kiszka fanfic #greta van fleet imagine #josh kiszka smut #josh kiszka x reader #josh kiszka x you #josh kiszka x y/n #josh kiszka x reader smut #jake kiszka #sam kiszka #danny wagner

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strangesickness · 3 months

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i just spent like 30 minutes on spotify looking at IT playlists and dude. i try so hard to not cringe at my younger self. he was trying his best! he can't be judged for the way he conducted himself in his like. first year of fandom. but like. 90% of IT 2017 fans were the same age as the characters when that movie came out. and i just. man! so yeah some of those playlist titles really knocked me out (i never want to see the words "boyfriend" that closely associated with a photo of 2017 jack grazer ever again. that like. made me ill. you understand me).

however, i did find a playlist with the exact same vibes as the ones we were all making six years ago (jesus) that was being updated as early as last week and wouldn't it be so silly if that was a 2010 kid (christ) who somehow got into IT at age 13. repeating all of our old mistakes. i think the only ages you're allowed to get into IT are like. 13 and 40. or maybe 24. otherwise it just isn't the same.

like there is something about me that was fundamentally changed when i was thirteen years old watching IT. like i think seeing the losers and heavily relating to one of them in your tween/early teen years is an extremely important part of making a child WORSE. like i think IT did irreparable damage to my personality i'm being so for real

#posts afflicted with a strange sickness #it 2017 #it 2019

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possumcollege · 1 year

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Y'all, I feel like all the love for Mikey and Nicky really glosses over the part where Nick takes Mikey to his girlfriend's place, has sex with her on the floor against her wishes while Mikey waits awkwardly in the kitchen like 10ft away, then offers her to Mikey like she's a drag off his cigarette and when she rejects him, Mikey fucking strikes her. Fucking nuts if that ain't a dark turn.

The earlier scene where Mikey blows up over the cream at the diner felt like an act of desperation to care for his friend. It's aggressive and dramatic, but the scene with Nick's girlfriend is disturbing. Mikey is led into a scene that none of us can unsee and he knows it. The scene feels like Nick saying "I need you to want what I have for once, and then feel bad for wanting it." It shows us how irreparably broken and toxic this relationship is.

From then on, the movie is so much less, "find ya a buddy who'll fight you like a puppy for your own good" and more about how this mode of fraternal loyalty has brought them into this escalating doom spiral where Nick, jealous of his best friend, sets him up to be shamed, tested and put in very real danger while still depending on him for his literal survival. Mikey is pulled deeper and deeper into Nick's narcissistic self-destruction and it's almost certainly been the arc of their entire relationship.

Neither of these characters are "good" people, but we see the way Nick gets into Mikey's head. Mikey starts to become more hostile with his wife after Nick's jabs leave him feeling like she doesn't see him as clearly as Nick does and that was done on purpose. Nick needs to be the most important person in every interaction. He needs attention, power, validation, comfort, and protection, and he needs to constantly test the limits and devotion of the people around him.

In the end, Mikey is pushed into the understanding that the only way to retain his own identity in the face of Nick's increasingly unstable behavior is to be rid of him. In that moment of breaking free, we see Nick play every emotional card, love, pity, rage, resentment, in an attempt to hold on to what he has even if it threatens to pull everyone he loves down with him.

I've seen the film described as an exploration of friendship and betrayal or self-preservation vs loyalty, but no amount of love, support or sacrifice will change or help Nick. Nick has many opportunities to escape, but he needs the people in his life to prove to himself that he is real. He clings to Mikey like a security blanket. He degrades and humiliates his girlfriend who for whatever reason hasn't turned him in. He can't stop calling his wife just to torment and emotionally blackmail her. He keeps returning to places he knows aren't safe to solicit comfort and validation.

Mikey's commitment to his friend consumes and compromises him. There is real love between them but Nick cannot conceptualize other people existing independently of him. Mikey is willing to put himself at risk to give his friend the slightest chance of escape and Nick repays that by playing shit-magnet on Mikey's actual front porch.

Nick's last words may as well be, "I can't live with myself, so watch me die and know it's your fault." Nick sucks.

Before I actually watched this movie, I kept getting the impression that people saw something sweet and *maybe* a little queer in the relationship between Mikey and Nick. Now, honestly the queer angle is neither here nor there for me on top of what feels like romanticizing a toxic and abusive relationship through omission. The memes and gif-sets can't convey Nick treading on Mikey's Jewish values or undermining his other relationships.

I see the appeal from arms length. Nick is impulsive and intense. Mikey is fiercely loyal and sweet. They have a series of little adventures and from a distance, it's a damn near love story but any closer, it's clear this is a tragedy. The only way for Mikey to live his own life is to let go and let his best friend burn out alone.

(edited 12/1/22, after it was noted that it sounded like I was calling the potentially queer angle toxic. Not the case. Maybe if they'd just made out when they were younger this might have gone differently)

#mikey and nicky #peter falk #john cassavetes #narcissism

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a-s-levynn · 6 months

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5, 10, 11, 23, 29 & 30 for the music ask game!

Ohh thank you anon! 🫶🏻 This ask game is to be the one that exposes the fact that i listen to all kinds of crap not just the usually assumed metal (which still iss the main gengre i listen to the most but anyway) but i have no shame when it comes to music because i a firm believer that there is no such thing as 'guilty pleasure music', music is either makes you feel something or not. If it does, it's good. itr might not do anything else for someone else. And that is perfectly fine.

But let's get into the gaaame

under the cut because it got long the questions: a song to play loud, one to make me sad, one i never get tired of, one from my childhood and one that rimends me of myself

5:A song that needs to be played LOUD (Every single Sleep Token song)

A Revolution by Patrick J Avard, Anthony Demetrio Arasi, Joey Casanova Look edm is the best when blearing, there is no way listening to it quietly. and this one in particular is just really hit the spot when i first heard it. With this one it's a must to turn up the volume. I also can't stay still either.

10:A song that makes you sad This is not easy. Because yeah i cry on Telomeres by Sleep Token but it doesn't make me sad per se.. it triggers an ache and a longing but.. oh no i got it.

It's either Too late by Dead by Sunrise or Final Masquerade by Linkin Park The entire out of ashes album came out a time when i was just.. boy did it pull me through some stuff. And on one hand it reminds me of that. On the other.. you may know that weird thing when you look up to a public figure because yeah he went through stuff and doing fine so i can too.. and then there comes a moment when isn't? Yeah that was Chester for me at the time and it makes it hard to listen to.

And final masquerade is a song that is just irreparably tied to someone and my relationship to that person and yeah.. it wasn't.. great. Well it was but than it wasn't. I try to not cling onto regrets but that one is.. it's complicated. Okay, not really, but it's not easy to talk about it, that's why i talk around it.

11:A song that you never get tired of Uuuuh the obvious choice is Higher by Sleep Token because that is probably my all time favourite track.

Besides that.. Cyberhex by Motionless in White It's just everything i love rolled into one. Cyberpunk vibes, industrial elements, synths and screamy screams rolled into one with Chris's voice? What is not to love.

29:A song that you remember from your childhood

I don't just remember it but actively still listen to it. Look this song unlocked a mental image of a very very clear scene in the snow and all for me and i have to revisit it compulsively from time to time.

Lady in Black by Uriah Heep My favourite memory of this song actually is from not that long ago. Well.. it's is one of my most cherished memories since. It's been what... 9 years ago by now? relatively when i started uni, in the first couple of years i usually went home for every other weekend. from the same trainstation with the same train at a very early hour. There was this street musician guy i sometimes gave some change to when i hade some. (fun fact he looked exactly like Berger from the 1979 Hair movie just with blond hair) So he had seen me quite often. I already had the very varied black on black wardrobe.

One particularly cold winter morning he looked at me and started to play this song and i wish i had a recording of it because that was pure magic. From then on i made sure i always had some change and arrived at least a little bit earlier just to listen to him. He never played it again but man.. he seemed like a sweet dude. He always had a nice word for anyone who approached him, he only but threw his guitar every single time a dog came by to rush to pet it, and he was always always smiling.

30: A song that reminds you of yourself

People error by the GazettE

#levynn answers #anon <3 #ask game #asking game

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rhymaes · 10 months

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why is my fight or flight response triggered so easily lololololol everything in my inner-head life feels like its in a phase of ever-crashing stasis but it’s not! it’s all fine really & no one knows anything is different bc im not acting different but i feel it oh god i feel it & i feel crazy & like im on fire by being around people i love bc i cant communicate things i cant change bc theyve hurt me & AH something something abt the despair of knowing someone you love will never understand the depth of their actions lolololololol anyway it will be fine i just have to . to realize that i need to stop taking things personally & set boundaries but that makes no sense to me bc i love u why do i have to act like i dont?? i want to hear about your day why does it hurt me irreparably??? anyway my addy runs out in like a week & i cant find a therapist/psych within my coverage so thats also great because that is like my Most looming fear that i will become the drifting creature i was two years ago &, despite this post & how it makes me sound, i am so so very happy with my life & now my life is the part in the movie where dramatic irony of the thing you fear most will envelop you but you have to face it with total awareness rather than ignorance beforehand & it’s fine it really is i will be Okay -- i just. im getting in my own way i want to see the people i love & i will see them soon & yet i am overtaken by dread & hurt & i dont like it i dont but i will get better & then i will feel ashamed that i thought of leaving them like this but for now i will focus on healing & also trying to fight the insane fun thing grad school taught me which is that i become an insane insomniac when stressed so i will heal & gain more than an hour & a half of sleep because im so paralyzed by indecision & continued hurt because i dont think i can face someone not comprehending the depth of their actions on me AH it’s cool it’s cool i will heal & recover from my control issues i know it stems from that & also that i make the people i love into gods unknowingly okay im complete & feel better i will heal fr sorry i must learn to communicate & u all have to witness it

#love with love its all with love i will not speak in hate i will not speak in impossibles !

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free-of-sticksnleaves · 1 year

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There is something alluring about the forest. I am not talking about a city park or a little forested area near the suburbs. I am talking about the appeal of the deep, dark woods. Thick, natural foliage and trees, spanning over hundreds of kilometers, sprouting from uneven ground ranging from hilly to mountainous. A forest much like the one surrounding the place where, three years ago I started my studies. I was eighteen and curious. Morbidly curious about the creepy and weird. Why wouldn’t you go for a nice walk through the forest after dinner? Why wouldn’t you take your thermodynamics textbooks and study there for a few hours on the weekend if you already enjoy the calming atmosphere of the woods and are excited over horror movies and internet spookstories? Why not? Because you will get lost. Because your headphones will play static, and your phone battery will degrade irreparably to 0%. Because you will get lost. 14 kilometers deep in the woods. Because you will see something you’ll wish you’d never have to see.

Because you won’t return from the forest the same person you were going into it.

Whatever happened there changed me. Haunted me. Broke me. There was no way I could stay in that town. Sadly, this fact took me quite a while to realize. At first, I had this compulsive need to go back there. The forest felt so inviting and frightening at the same time. Yet soon enough, it all turned into fear and anxiety.

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stanleyoffseventh-oldblog · 4 months

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15 People 15 Questions

thanks @giveemgreef for the tag!!

are you named after anyone?

not to my knowledge. fletcher is the name my folks always said they would have given me "if i'd been born a boy" so i guess im named after myself. lol.

2. when was the last time you cried?

three weeks ago in the walk-in freezer at work. next!

3. do you have kids?

never have never will

4. what sports do you play/have you played?

i was on my high school's fencing team for one year and i did noncompetitive japanese longbow archery (kyudo) for two until i took an arrow to the knee irreparably fucked my right shoulder in a car accident

5. do you use sarcasm?

(sarcastically) nooooooo never

6. what's the first thing you notice about people?

honestly im just not that observant of a person

7. what's your eye color?

gray. i had a bf once who claimed they changed color like a fucking anime character but this is unconfirmed by people who weren't trying to get in my pants at the time

8. scary movies or happy endings?

this is a weird dichotomy. who's to say that scary movies don't have happy endings. one of these is a trope and the other is a genre so it's not so much comparing apples to oranges as apples to the entire concept of vegetables. anyway you know what's a good movie? bones and all. really liked that one. next!

9. any talents?

i can count pills really fast (this is my job. it's not impressive.)

10. where were you born?

[SUBURB OF MINNEAPOLIS REDACTED]

11. what are your hobbies?

writing. blogging. complaining.

12. do you have any pets?

two cats, vanya and akko. they're sisters. akko is round and vaguely puck-shaped. vanya likes to swat at the tv when i watch hockey.

13. how tall are you?

driver's license says 5'7"

14. favorite subject in school?

in high school: japanese. in college: bio

15. dream job?

fabulously wealthy lottery winner/philanthropist. more seriously: dear god please just get me out of retail

i think literally everyone i know on this blog has been tagged in this already so. do it if you want to!

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mbat · 6 months

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ok im gonna be a little critical of religion here so if you dont like that dont read. also im pulling this from the weirdest of places but

earlier i watched a video that was talking a lot about christianity, specifically protestantism and its influences on american culture, how theres this whole thing about how everything you do should only be for god, not your own pleasure or any of that (extreme simplification and paraphrasing), and so all of that was still on my mind basically.

and now im rewatching the steven universe movie. hear me out, we already know the diamonds hold deep authority, theyre practically gods of their kind, i dont think that i need to explain why. and they definitely let that get to their heads, they treated their subjects like things that only existed to serve them and their wants and needs, and their subjects needed to be loyal or else.

and im not going to get into all the ways that could reflect my point, but im just thinking about how spinels story reflects my point.

she was in love with pink diamond, not romantically, but in the way one worships, because she was made to. everything was for pink, about pink, she was excited when pink got what she wanted (her colony) even when pink clearly didnt want her to be a part of it, she would do everything pink wanted of her.

even standing in place unquestioningly for several thousand years, waiting, not moving even when she questioned because surely pink would come back for her?

(but when the rug was pulled out from under her it changed her irreparably.)

and i guess my point is how people will do anything that they think that their god wants, even if it causes them the utmost misery, even when it ruins their whole life, all for that approval, the possibility of a reward. the only difference is that spinel at least knew pink was real, had felt her touch, spoken to her.

theres a lot of reasons im not religious, but that one is a big one that i just cant get over. i cant imagine spending every day of my life wondering if im doing right by someone ive never met, who i have no proof exists, and whos rules arent even agreed upon and only told to me by other humans.

i cant imagine being the person who is told to stand in place for 6,000 years, and i dont move an inch because im hoping for a reward that isnt guaranteed to ever come.

#and yes by religion i mainly mean christianity because its the one i know the most about and its affected me more than other religions #i try not to be critical of religion too openly cause i know it upsets people and ive been a dick in the past about it #but i never changed how i feel about it. i just learned to be quiet #i know its personal to people even if i dont understand the feeling #but that doesnt mean i cant be critical of it #i could literally talk about it for hours idk i have a lot of thoughts. i could go on more about this subject but i wont for now #i mostly just wanted to get the thought out and continue the movie #ALSO THE VIDEO I WATCHED WAS MEANT TO JUST BE TALKING ABOUT HOW CHRISTIAN VIDEO GAMES ARE USUALLY BAD?#WHY DID IT GIVE ME A FULL ON LESSON OF PROTESTANTISM AND SHIT AHFBSBFB #my post #su #i probably shouldnt tag su much cause i dont need fans of it coming here like what the fuck is wrong with you sjfjsjd #atheism #religion critical #idk why i said fans of it as if im not a fan of it ajfjsjd i literally am its my favorite ever

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fujimoribaby · 2 years

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I like that old question where its like

“If you were given the opportunity to go back in time with the knowledge you have now, would you?”

Previously my answer was no, as i had no major regrets

However now i see why such a question can tempt others enough to say yes

I’d say yes to that now if I could

Perhaps it’s a combination of grief and distaste for growing older, but I’d happily go back four or ten years ago

I dont usually post on this account but i have thoughts and i wanna write them so here i am pls feel free to ignore if you see this for some reason

Four years ago I would’ve just gotten into Voltron, back when the fandom was at its peak. I really miss those times and the friends I still had. Voltron was such a comfort then and now, only difference is the fandom is practically dead in the water whereas back then it was so active the Amino for it had over 3k people on most days

I do miss the fandom experiences, and I miss being young and going to Highschool waiting for the day I make a new friend or get into a relationship like i’d seen in movies (though that never happened), It’s not the reason I’d seriously go back in time

I think so much to myself that if I knew then what I know now, I couldve prevented it

Death destroys families, my family was already hanging on by a thread

I often wonder now how im supposed to navigate life without my number one supporter, without my female role model, without my mom

I cant think of an answer a year later

At this time as i write this , last year at this exact moment i started the movie venom.. yes.. because the new venom movie had just come out..

A year.. you dont realize how much time has passed when all you have left to cling onto are memories

“It seems like only yesterday” shouldnt be something someone below the age of 30 should be saying and yet here I am only I genuinely can’t comprehend how it wasnt just yesterday or a week ago that i had a conversation with my mom

Time doesnt seem real, and i wish it wasnt

If it wasnt i could go to the past

Change something and maybe change my moms life and keep her alive

The heart breaks in so many places, irreparable damage that not even a hug could fix

Cold winters and cold hugs

Cold winters filled with me watching voltron

Cold winters where my mom wore layers of pajamas

I dont want time to move forward

I wish it would just stop. Why doesnt the world stop when you do? It could possibly be the cruelest thing time does

I dont know why im still here, i dont know how to be an adult and the one person i shouldve been able to ask for help from is no longer here

Im behind, and though i have a reason, the world and mind aren’t forgiving for something as silly as grief

I wish i could go back in time

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vitos-ordination-song · 2 years

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I recently rewatched Festen. Festen is kinda comparable to brba, at least for dealing with the nuclear family, power struggles, and interpersonal manipulation. In Festen, a rich family comes together to celebrate the birthday of their patriarch, only for his son to publicly accuse him of sexually abusing him and his twin sister, who recently committed suicide. The party spins out of control as different family members attempt to control the narrative and acquaintances try to pretend it isn’t happening.

For most of the movie, the psychological power and weight of social opinion rest with the father. Everyone tries to shut the son up, kick him out, so they can go on with the show. But eventually the son proves he’s telling the truth so utterly and publicly that everyone has to listen. When before, no one wanted the son at the table, by the end, no one wants the father there.

The father starts to make a speech about how sorry he is and how he may never be forgiven but he does love his children. Everyone ignores him. After a film of heightened emotion, this final moment plays quiet, even uneventful: another son gets up and politely tells his father he should leave so everyone else can eat. And that’s it. People return to pleasant conversation. And though the son who was victimized did get his vindication and his happy ending, the last shot holds on his face as he listens to the chatter of the party goers. I’ve always loved this scene because it feels like he’s realizing that it’s over for everyone else but it will never fully be over for him.

The ending of Festen still leaves me with unresolved feelings, just like brba did. It fucks me up, it’s hard to watch, I only sit down with it when I feel up to the pain I know it will make me feel. But it’s absolutely one of my favorite films. It’s not that I think Festen is better made or better written than brba. I just feel like Festen cares. You know?

Walt hears similar things to what the father in Festen hears; eventually his family just wants him to die, and even his hero worshiping son rejects him. But it all comes back to the drama of Walt. Brba tries to be complex not by casting the characters who come to hate Walt as wrong, but asking the audience to still care about Walt’s feelings. But idk. Brba kinda killed my willingness to do that at a certain point.

I love Festen because, guess what, my grandfather was a pedophile who sexually abused relatives! My family is also deeply religious and I remember my mom telling me that she was preached at all the time by others who told her she had to forgive her father. And there was me age like 11 going no, I actually don’t think you need to. When I watched brba, I finally articulated that I didn’t care about all the motives of people who do shitty things, I don’t care if they’re tortured or they regret it in the dead of night or if they secretly do love others. It doesn’t matter and we can’t act like the fact that “even evil people are human too” is more important than the result of what they’re doing.

That’s the thing: a lot of shitty people, like Walt, make everything into a fucking drama with themselves at the center. One minute it’s “I’m the overlord, bow before me,” the next it’s “I do so much for you and you dare cross me,” and then when they reach the end of their rope it’s “I’m such a shitty person and I hate myself for what I’ve done.” It’s not even that the humanity of someone who’s done irreparable harm doesn’t reach me, it’s that (usually) it’s kinda scary, it’s that they still aren’t gonna change, and it’s that I have to put myself first. Brba taught me that, not through its narrative, but because I rejected the way that it wanted me to extend all this empathy to Walt…

There’s something in me which finds that sort of thing dangerous and immediately tries to get away from it. I can’t stand listening to my siblings justify our parents. I love Jonathan Banks for telling people they’re idiots for even suggesting that Walt loves the people around him and shows this through his manipulation. To me you’ve gotta maintain these boundaries or you’re GOING to end up allowing yourself to be abused or ignoring the abuse of others. It’s not lying to yourself about others, it’s being able to hold the full complexity of a person in mind at once. With the father from Festen, I’ve always felt that scene at the end is perfectly handled because like… we get the moment of humanity from the father. That moment is real; the audience isn’t signaled that he’s faking his speech. But the point is… who cares. It doesn’t matter. His feelings, his regret, don’t change a thing, and only came when he was forced into it. We can see the humanity in everyone while still rejecting the things they bring with them.

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zaftikat · 2 years

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TTRPG Review - Horse Girl

I’ll start with the TL;DR so that we can get to the meat of this review. Horse Girl is a body horror game using the Wretched and Alone system to tell the story of a woman who undergoes surgical transformation at the behest of an abusive lover. This game is horrifying, fascinating, and deeply beautiful. It is a game about loneliness, pain, and the fucked up things we’ll consent to in order to belong and be loved. I strongly recommend taking the content warnings in this game seriously.

If you run in the same circles I do, you’ve seen people’s excitement for the latest Cronenberg film, Crimes of the Future. Marked by the archetypical sexualized body horror of the rest of his oeuvre, it delivers on its premise as a challenging if not a well constructed film. The preponderance of terminally online pervs—many of whom are trans, one of whom is me—gained a renewed interest in the genre as a whole while we watched Vigo Mortensen get his livussy eaten out by Léa Seydoux. Below that spectacle is a series of questions that peal metaphor for the current anti-trans hysteria. One could easily write an entire essay on the inventive ways Cronenberg typifies the trans experience of creating beauty with bodies that are seen as monstrous to those with structural power. The film posits that we are transgressive works of art created by the personalization of our bodies, with parallels drawn between the final scene of the film and the first dose of HRT. In essence, it this movie fuckin slaps, but I’m also not here to talk about it for more than a paragraph or so, and mostly as a way to introduce my fascination with body horror as a genre. Basically, it’s context for what I’m actually here to discuss: Horse Girl by Samuel Mui (babblegumsam.itch.io/horse-girl).

Mui pointedly asks us to consider how much our body is who we are and how far we will go to achieve a sense of belonging. The pages of the journal your character writes as she is transformed through surgical modification posit a sort of horrifying Cartesian dualism: you are asked to record the ways in which her mind copes with what her body becomes and on your naked body, record the ways in which hers is irreparably changed. You are confronted head on with the abuse she suffers at the hands of the man she loves as you pull new cards from the deck, and blocks from the tower. Horse Girl has technical win conditions, but they are exceedingly unlikely, and still leave your character physically and mentally changed by her experiences. The far more likely outcome, as is typical for Wretched and Alone, is a block tower collapse. On collapse, your character must, in a mixture of resignation and acceptance, give herself over fully to the transformation.

The game beings by introducing our dramatis personae. Our role is that of a woman in her late twenties. We are told that life has not been kind to us, we are lost and hurting, alone and unwanted. Our antagonist is a young doctor who saw us at our most vulnerable and chose us for his systematic abuses. He draws us away from friends and family, from community and comfort until our world is only him. This is a standard abuse tactic used to exert control over a victim, but we are beyond that point at the start of our journey. We have accepted his offer to live in his mansion and we have accepted the condition that we will be surgically and mentally transformed into a horse. It is “…a small price to pay for a lifetime of peace and happiness.” We are promised love and caring for the price of our humanity.

When immersed in the game proper, we are asked to justify emotional and physical abuse in addition to the grotesqueries of her transformation. Her lover is quick to anger and retaliate, she must make it up to him. He threatens those she still loves in the world outside, so we must prove her devotion to him. All of this is said to be measures of his love. These actions and reactions are represented by the hearts and diamonds suits in the deck of cards. These are the good suits, if there is such a thing in Horse Girl. The clubs are memories of her life before and the hardships she faced as trauma compounded on trauma. This suit concludes that she is unlovable apart from him because she is fundamentally broken. Some broken things can be mended, or rebuilt into something new. With the spades we get the latter. The spades represent her transformation; where what was a relatively mundane—such as they can be—case of abuse becomes horror. Mui makes us consider the surgeries and hypnotic conditioning as parallels to the standard ways abuse manifests. As our character is wracked by the transformation process, we are challenged to think about the real world physical changes brought on by prolonged abuse; the way our mind and body react to certain kinds of touch, or manipulation by someone we love. Then we are told to justify it. The headspace of an ongoing abuse victim is never made more clear than in this game’s execution. All of these transformations are ostensibly consented to, something that rings true for many abuse victims. We agree to things that harm us because we’re made to feel as though there is nothing else. Exploring that pain is the intention of this game, and it is an incredible vehicle to do so.

Now, by this point you’re wondering, “Kat, why the fuck did you talk about Crimes of the Future at the start of this review?” One, because that movie is rad and I wanted to, but two, because there’s an important connection to be made between the two, and body horror as a sub-genre. Body horror’s quintessence is a question of control. Horse Girl is primarily about the ways control is exerted in abusive relationships. That control is manifested through the literal transformation of the woman’s body. The gender roles in this game carry the weight of powerful intention that speaks to a larger point about the ways in which women’s bodies are controlled and manipulated by systems that assert their worthlessness without such transformations. Our character is told a great joy in her life is foaling (though the Lamarckian inheritance in this prompt does lose me a bit given the more firm grounding of the rest of the transformation). If the raw intention of control is depersonalization of the controlled as objects for their controller, there is no greater method of exerting that control than the irreparable changes of pregnancy. So too does this hold for the more subtle manipulations like standards of beauty. In effect, the normalcy sought by the state in Crimes of the Future is no different from the transformation undergone in Horse Girl. Rejecting that control brings the full weight of compulsion to bear whether through systemic or personal violence. Therein is the fundamental metaphor of body horror, transness. The lack of control felt when your body begins to betray you at the onset of puberty is the same horror as being surgically transformed into a horse. Wresting control back and changing yourself to be who you choose is the freedom that Saul Tenser embraces and the freedom transition grants.

Ultimately this was supposed to be a game review, but I think it ended up being more of a personal essay? My review of Horse Girl exists somewhere in the text. Probably. ★★★★★★

#tw abuse #tw body horror #tw dubcon #indie ttrpg #ttrpg #ttrpg review #personal essay

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beaftly · 2 years

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I have thought about what would happen if I was to be in a building fire, several stories up. I can't take the stairs. Access to life is an afterthought by the public.

I think all the time about whether this shop or that shop has wide enough aisles for me and my mobility aid, whether today it's my cane or my wheelchair. Access to the business of my choosing is an afterthought by the public.

I wonder if there is enough accessible parking at my destination - if there's any at all. My ability to get safely and easily out of the car is an afterthought by the public.

My dad wants to go out for coffee. "Let's go to that little coffee shop downtown, you know the one." But there are stairs up to the entrance. I can't take the stairs, and there's no back door. My patronage of businesses like this is not only an afterthought by the public, but also now an afterthought by my own father.

I contemplate the risks of flying across the world. Approximately twenty-eight wheelchairs are lost or irreparably damaged by airlines every day. My wheelchair cost twelve thousand US dollars, and insurance won't cover a new one for four more years. I can't risk my freedom just to fly. My right to pursue happiness is an afterthought by the public, and by the governments of the world that have their fingers in commercial aviation.

Mask mandates are lifting, and the people who don't want to think too hard about the vulnerable are no longer wearing them. I'm vulnerable. I see you. COVID-19 increases the risk of cardiac issues, which I recall as my heart beats irregular in my chest, one of my many comorbidities. I will not be another casualty if I can help it. Yet I am an afterthought of the public, so I'm not sure how feasible this is.

The closest movie theater to me has stairs up to the front doors, and its ramp is too steep, breaking the law. Inside the theater, the wheelchair-accessible seating is at the bottom front of the room, forcing attendees to crane their necks up to the screen. My comfort and enjoyment at the movie theater is an afterthought by the public.

I see access issues everywhere I go. I see things that are a mere nuisance, and things that are life-threatening. I will probably never legally fight an entity on accessibility, aside from informing them that their business is exclusive. The Americans with Disabilities Act is not enforced by any particular means; it relies on the disabled individual to sue the business owner in order to enact change. When my disability payments amount to less than seven thousand dollars per year, the thought of suing anyone is absurd.

I am not legally allowed to work without losing my SSI. I am not allowed to have more than two thousand dollars in assets, or my SSI is taken from me. I am not allowed to leave the country for more than thirty days, or no more SSI. I am not allowed to be hospitalized for more than thirty days - or no more SSI.

So tell me, how am I supposed to fight public access issues? I am only one person. I'm sure there's a pro-bono lawyer out there who could help me, but it is not my job to make the world accessible, and I'm tired. But the thing is, nobody else is doing this for me.

And this is only in the United States. Canada, for example, has no equivalent of the Americans with Disabilities Act. How, then, are disabled Canadians supposed to have access to anything at all?

I don't have a pretty conclusion here other than the fact that this all constitutes ableism. And I'm tired of it. I'm tired of strangers' disregard for my most basic safety. I'm tired of businesses cutting corners because "people like you don't go out anyway." I'm sick of my own family treating my disability as a nuisance or an afterthought to them. I'm tired of literally being physically shunned from public spaces, over and over again.

Just remember: disability is coming for you, the able-bodied and young. One day these issues will all be yours to inherit. So start planning now. Start sticking up for disabled people now. Start making changes now. Or you'll regret it when you're old and frail, struggling to open a door that isn't up to code.

Able-bodied people are welcomed to reblog, but don't clown.

#cripple punk #mine #cripplepunk #cpunk

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nothorses · 3 years

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This is an old article, but it's relevant, and I want to revisit it. I really recommend folks read the entire article; I'm just going to pull some excerpts, but there's no way they can do justice to the reading in full.

"Very few people want to defend a target of disposability."

I was told by one person that she couldn’t risk losing her job, another that she didn’t want to become a target too. I was threatened into not defending myself, gaslit into silence, told that people knew “things” about me that were never explained. When I asked how I could do accountability, when I said I would do whatever they wanted, they said that I was “incapable” of accountability, that my crime was unknown and my sentence was permanent.

"Accountability" is to callout culture what "justice" is to the punitive justice system: an empty word to wrap around your actions in order to justify them. Anything is okay as long as it's in pursuit of accountability.

Callout culture does not actually want accountability, though, and all attempts at real, honest accountability will be avoided, ignored, or outright rejected. If accountability is achieved and you are left intact, callout culture has failed.

My attackers were expert pathological liars who had been getting away with it for years—entire fictional realities playing out on their social-media accounts like soap opera. Escaping from abuse is the most certain way to become painted as an abuser, and being an abuser is the most sure way to be believed. You know how movies are realer than reality? How the sound effects and physics become so normalized to us that reality seems flat and fake? Talking about abuse is kind of like that. Abusers know what sounds “real.” They are like expert movie-effects artists. Victims are stuck with boring fake reality.

Feminist/queer spaces are more willing to criticize people than abusive systems because they want to reserve the right to use those systems for their own purposes. At least attacking people can be politically viable, especially in a token system where you benefit directly by their absence, or where your status as a good feminist is dependent on constantly rooting out evil.

Think of these things the way you think of any other system ostensibly designed to change people's behavior for the better: what methods have been proven to work? What methods haven't? Why do those systems exist anyway?

Systems that reduce crime rates are designed around rehabilitation. They seek to remove people from toxic environments, heal them, equip them with better tools and resources, and send them back into the world ready to do better.

Systems that actively increase crime rates are designed around punishment. They remove people from society, hurt them, teach them they're trash, force them into either worse and more toxic communities and ideologies or into altogether isolation, and if they ever re-emerge, they are so irreparably blacklisted that there is no hope of them ever rejoining the society they were originally torn from.

So when people write all those apologist articles about call-out culture and other instruments of violence in feminism, I don’t think they understand that the people who most deserve those things can usually shrug off the effects, and the normalization of that violence inevitably trickles down and affects the weak. It is predictable as water. Criminal justice applies punishment under the conceit of blind justice, but we see the results: Prisons are flooded with the most vulnerable, and the rich can buy their way out of any problem. In activist communities, these processes follow a similar pragmatism. Punishment is not something that happens to bad people. It happens to those who cannot stop it from happening. It is laundered pain, not a balancing of scales.

Consider who callout culture most often targets. Consider how often people like them are defended not only by others like them, but by the larger feminist and queer community.

Not only that, but account for the position that individual is in, and the tools they have available to them. Do they have stable housing, work, and income? Do they have the ability to sink valuable time and energy into defending themselves? Can they risk trying and failing, or is their livelihood attached to any attempt to do so?

One of the most common tools of exclusion is through mobbing, which is rarely talked about because unlike rape, murder, etc, it’s not easy to pin it on a single person (or scapegoat). Mobbing is emotional abuse practiced by a group of people, usually peers, over a period of time, through methods such as gaslighting, rumor-mongering, and ostracism. [...] Here is why it is horrible: 1) It has an unusually strong power to damage the victim’s relationship to society, because it can’t be written off as an outlier, as some singular monster. It reveals a fundamental truth about people that makes it difficult to trust ever again. People become like aliens, like a pack of animals that can turn on you as soon as some mysterious pheromone shift marks you for death. 2) The insidious nature of emotional abuse: How do you fight ostracism and rumors? They leave no bruises, they just starve you. 3) Mobbing typically occurs in places where the victim is trapped by some need or obligation: work, school, circles of friends. This can prolong exposure to damaging extremes.

Consider what tactics are being used to punish this person, and what is being demanded. If the people appointing themselves judge, jury, and executioner turn out to be wrong, is there any hope of recourse?

From a report by the Australian House of Representatives Education and Employment Committee: “90 percent of people being bullied make the comment: ‘I just want it to stop.’ They don’t want to go down a formal path, but just want the behaviour to stop.”

"RESISTING DISPOSABILITY"

— Let marginalized people be flawed. Let them fuck up like the Real Humans who get to fuck up all the time — Fight criminal-justice thinking. Disposability runs on the innocence/guilt binary, another category that applies dynamically to certain bodies and not others. The mob trials used to run trans people out of communities are inherently abusive, favor predators, and must be rejected as a process unequivocally. There is no kind of justice that resembles hundreds of people ganging up on one person, or tangible lifelong damage being inflicted on someone for failing the rituals of purification that have no connection to real life. — Pay attention when people disappear. Like drowning, it’s frequently silent. They might be blackmailed, threatened, and/or in shock. — Even if the victim doesn’t want to fight (which is deeply understandable—often moving on is the only response), private support is huge. This is the time to make sure the wound doesn’t become infected, that the PTSD they acquire is as minimized as possible. This is the difference between a broken leg healing to the point where they can run again, or walking with a limp for the rest of their life. They’ve just been victim-blamed by a huge number of people, and as a social organism, their body is telling them to die. They need social reintegration, messages of support, and space to heal. — Be extremely critical about what people say about trans people, especially things said in vagueness. The rumor mill that keeps trans people out of spaces isn’t even so much about people believing what is said, it’s about people choosing the safest option—a staining that plays on the average person’s risk aversion. — Ask yourself if the same thing would be happening if they were white/cis/able-bodied. — “Radical inclusivity recognizes harm done in the name of God.” —Yvette Flunder Marginalized spaces can’t form healthy community purely from rejection of the mainstream. There has to be an acknowledgment of how people have been hurt by feminist spaces and their models. — A common enemy isn’t the same as loving each other. — Don’t be part of spaces that place an ideal or “community leader” above people.

#callout culture #discourse #cancel culture #purity culture #nothorses #long post

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