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placentaur-archive · 4 years

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why is specter knight the best knight (though more seriously tell me about how you see his relationship develop with plague knight)

see heres the thing both of those questions constitute equally long rants SO shit goes under a cut

[[MORE]]

why specter knight is the best knight (or more accurately, why specter of torment is the best shovel knight campaign):

STORY IT'S GOT SO MUCH STORY AND THE PACING IS ACTUALLY GOOD. both plague of shadows and shovel of hope have story to it too obviously but in SoH the pacing is kinda really..... not good. it's a big cutscene in the beginning and then a lot of meaningful dialogue at the end (not to say that dialogue wasnt good, the ending of SoH is what made me wanna see more of this game and sparked a 6 month hyperfixation). but like during the main part of the game the plot kinda gets lost. no one in the villages really talks about shield knight or the enchantress (save for a few people who congratulate you on beating a specific knight or the one dude in the armor outpost that says it was taken over by the order which is kinda rlly easy to miss anyway). so unless you're finishing this game fast enough to remember the original first cutscene it's not rlly gonna stick. PoS does a better job with pacing but the story itself is,,,,, not super interesting. it's just a dude who wants to make a potion so he can get super strong and impress his crush. the plot sorta does pick up 2/3s through the game after mona leaves the potionarium but ultimately the game is just About One Thing (SoH is also like this). SoT on the other hand has MULTIPLE plot lines that develop almost simultaneously. you've got specter on a mission to serve the enchantress that develops in the actual levels, you've got donovan's flashbacks to his quest with luan which happens in between levels, and you've got specter dealing with reize when you're in the tower. you could even say red's whole deal is a plot line because eventually if you're good enough at the game he does get his wife back and thEY DO A DANCE FOR YOU AWWWWW. but in the end all these plot lines come together (yes even red's if you collect all the skulls) and it's a big, narratively satisfying, emotionally crushing ending and its GREAT. the way that SoT develops characters that even SoH couldnt (cough cough shield knight) and gives us insight into the past and why things turned out the way they did is like,,,,, it's perfect okay

ALSO YOU GET TO SKATEBOARD ON YOUR SCYTHE HOW FUCKING COOL IS THAT

how specter's relationship with plague develops:

I did a thread abt this on twitter a LONG time ago but I'm too lazy to find it bc finding old tweets is even harder than finding shit on tumblr so here's a list of events

- specter and plague dont know each other very well at all, specter just beat plagues ass that one time and now they work together and probably havent spoken since bc they both think the other is kinda weird

- plague during PoS is in the lich yard on his way to beat specter's ass so he can get a thicc thigh goth gf and finds the phase locket aka the locket luan gave specter. except plague doesnt know any of that shit he just finds a relic and hes like "oh cool I can sell this to chester for something useful"

- specter post PoS finds the locket missing and is real mad abt it

- however post PoS is also post SoH which means the tower of fate has fallen and the enchantress is no more which is Bad News for specter bc the enchantress was the only one keeping him alive oh god oh fuck

- so after a lot of back and forth with him, black knight finally convinces specter to go see plague knight bc plague is the only one who might remotely know what to do about this

- specter reluctantly goes to the explodatorium and plague and mona (who he's already kinda friends with so it relaxes him a little) agree to help him out

- somewhere along the line though specter finds out it was plague that took the locket and sold it to chester and now The Bird Man Is Dead To Him and he stops going to see him for help

- plague feels bad about it so he tracks down who has the locket now (shovel knight) and gets it back for specter

- specter gains 2% respect for bird man and when plague asks why the locket is so important to him specter very briefly tells him abt luan (mostly just "it was given to me by someone close to me, that person isnt around anymore so this holds a lot of sentimental value")

- time passes and they start seeing each other more often, even outside of when specter comes for treatment. they start learning about each other more and they learn their insecurities (theyve got shared insecuries about their appearance and their names, both of them are very against taking off their mask around anyone)

- one day specter decides fuck it and tells plague his name. plague can't reciprocate but he appreciates it

- they start taking to hanging out on the roof on what's left of the tower since no one goes there anymore and they can be alone together

- one day specter decides he can show plague his face and once he does plague gets very excited and is like "oH SHIT IM SENSITIVE ABOUT THAT TOO" and rips off his mask without thinking and suddenly they're both just kinda looking at each other and they realize they look a lot more similar than they thought and no one says anything for a few seconds before plague gets nervous and puts his mask back on and the moment is passed

- over time they get more comfortable around each other, specter doesnt mind as much when plague calls him donovan and he can show his face to him when they're in private together (and plague takes off his mask sparingly around him too)

- one day plague decides hes ready to tell donovan what his name is and he begs him not to tell anyone or even use it on him in private. specter says he doesnt have to tell him but plague insists that he wants to (I wont say what it is here bc it's just a dumb hc name and it doesnt really get used at all bc specter mostly just keeps calling him plague kkskgkdg)

- but that level of trust is there now!!! plague tells specter that no one else knows this much about him, not even mona

- and specter realizes he's been keeping information from plague and if they're gonna air everything out then,,,,,,,, well he might as well tell him fully about luan and reize and everything else that happened

-that night is rough for the both of them but it's also cathartic knowing they can trust someone enough to tell them about this

- eventually plague and mona come to the conclusion that to keep specter's soul stabilized they cant keep treating him forever because specter is going to live indefinitely and plague and mona are very very mortal SO the only way to keep him semi permanently tied to this world is to bind his soul to something else

- specter wants to bind his soul to plague knight

- plague is like NONONONONO I am NOT having that responsibility and I am NOT letting you die as soon as I do and convinces him to bind his soul to the phase locket instead

- I haven't talked about him at all here but by now specter is definitely dating propeller and has been for a while so whether u wanna see plague and specter as dating or just super close friends is up to u anyway I love these idiots thanks for coming to my tedtalk

#ive been writing this ask for like an hour please take it #asks #sk

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scarletrebel · 5 years

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⭐star⭐ waffle at me about your favourite lines youve written

ohhh friend you have opened a pandoras box and i hope you are ready also thank you aha

so i started…….. picking some lines and made the Executive Decision to just do one fic because i was planning on doing a couple from a handful of fics but turns out im far too prone to waffling about this kind of stuff because i love picking things apart and figuring out why they work because i love fuckign words and the things they evoke and stuff so yeah this is just some fave lines from most recent fic, requital.

this was part of a ‘directors cut’ writer thing and if anyone has any more prompts, feel more than free to send them my way!

Requital, Chp. 1:

His honesty, wrapped tightly underneath a chivalrous act; a throwaway comment to soften the exposure of such a question, draws her closer.

She kisses him, and hopes that even though the motion is countless in the amount of times they’ve come together, that the answer is plain enough. A claim, she hears her own words in her head, tasting the tobacco of his morning cigarette on her tongue, the warmth of the pull at his hands on her hips.

so whilst i cant say this section was directly inspired by the ecdysis book, what i can say is that there is definitely some influence going on here, in particular these two lines from the page ‘synesthesia’:

“Wu Ming is a bonfire in the darkness, and she crawls toward his warmth.”

“Wu Ming leaves his questions by the wayside as he is drawn inexorably into the gravity well of her desperate honesty.”

and thats not something i realised until i was writing the final draft, and im pretty pleased with myself considering not only is requital going to examine some of the similarities between avia and drifter, but also the fact that ecdysis is probably my favourite book. i mean…… ‘drawn inexorably into the gravity well of her desperate honesty’ what the FUCK KIND OF LINE its gorgeous i cant deal with it or this book or this page or how desperately gorgeous the tragedy of drifter and orins relationship is

also…… look. im a hopeless romantic. always have been, probs always will be, so when i say avia and rook are soulmates i mean it in the cheesiest way possible. right before this is rook feeling a bit self-conscious about the whole awoken engaging thing, and theres no way avia can actually put into words how irrevocably in love she is with rook. so she kisses him, and hopes beyond hope that she can put those feelings into motions if not words. i also enjoy the small bit of possessiveness that came out of her too, because the whole ‘claim’ thing with the awoken was there since the first draft but this section came in the final edit, she thinks of it so casually but when she goes on to say that she’d actually duel anyone who came between them i…….. would not put it past her to be 100% down to do that.

rook isnt a bonfire in the darkness, he’s an anchor in the deep, a solid tether when the sea becomes a storm.

(ayyy where the FUCK WAS THAT WHEN I WAS WRITING THIS)

Requital Chp. 2:

Here’s the thing, if you’ve gone through the trouble of decrypting this (a fortified certain-eyes-only encryption that took me a couple of hundred years to perfect, thank you very much), it at least means you’re interested, so hear me out.

i like this line a lot, for a few reasons. drifter knows avia well enough at this point to be well acquainted with her temper and lack of time for dealing with his nonsense. it’s the first flick of the coin between the two of them, drifter laying the proverbial gauntlet down and at the end of the day, its up to her whether or not she picks it up.

and she does, avia asks levi to decrypt it, and the first thing she sees is drifter acknowledging that shes done so and asking her to at least hear him out. he’s kind of caught her out, and she can respect that even if thats not at the forefront of her mind. avia also has her own brand of curiosity when it comes to people like the drifter, so this is kind of the first inkling of that. and it also (i hope) makes you wonder if drifter is aware of that curiosity that she has, if he sent the message decrypted on purpose to get her interested.

She smiles at the note, throws her legs over the bed and stretches around a yawn. Five minutes later, Levi puts her in her armour.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stick around?” The Ghost asks. “We don’t have anything urgent to do. There’s breakfast here.”

Avia hums, considering. She moves into the kitchen, glances over the fridge, the cupboards. She looks then onto the sofa, the sprawled pillows, untidy blankets. Suddenly the armour on her body feels heavy, out of place, like the metal has no right being somewhere like this.

“No. I’m not hungry, let’s go.”

“Okay,” Levi says in that tone of voice that lets her know they aren’t buying it. “Should we walk, or transmat?”

Avia notices the balcony door is still open. She walks over and closes it, the streets barely alive as one or two civilians walk to and fro, glancing idly at each other as they pass. “Transmat.”

avia immediately makes an comment about being all domestic with rook in chapter 1. its just not something that suits her in her own mind, and that line (even though i havent waffled about it bc dear god theres too much here already) was something i immediately knew i wanted if i was going to write a day of domestic bliss with her and her fiance, because i knew it’d be a hard thing for her to just get on with like a normal person aha.

so, we get this part in chapter 2. the domestic bliss is over, and what avia knows best, what shes always known best, is a set of armour and getting back to work. however this part of herself contradicts that which she’s experienced for the past day, and especially the line ‘Suddenly the armour on her body feels heavy, out of place, like the metal has no right being somewhere like this.’ i put in to really reinforce that idea. its not the metal that feels out of place in this scene, its the person in the metal. and her eagerness to transmat straight to the tower rather than walk through the peaceful city streets shows her tendency to run from such thoughts.

this part came really naturally, actually. its a small snapshot into a bigger struggle avia has with herself (especially given the dreaming city, the reef, petra and now potentially going back to the worst part of the shore with drifter) of where she belongs, and more importantly, if she deserves to belong. which is why levi talks to her in that tone because they know what shes doing, theyve seen it so many times before – avia in a scenario that resembles something normal and running from it with no one around to stop her, because in her subconscious she doesnt believe she deserves it.

“Ada-1, I believe, has fully settled into the Tower. She becomes more and more tolerable of the Guardians by the day. And with the discovery of Niobe labs, her mood has been favourable.”

i had no idea how fun scarlet was to write until i got to this part. she almost has her own language, really. writing ‘im really proud of ada because i spent all morning with her and she was only snippy with like two guardians and shes been really uplifted and im really happy for her since they found niobe labs’ in scarlets own ‘okay but heres the relevant information’ way of explaining things is a challenge but FUN. like, really fun??

because scarlet wouldnt be mentioning adas mood if she didnt care, ya know? and its not that she cant say that longer thing about being proud and stuff, its just that she doesnt see the sense in it and its not important information. like, if avia and eden were to spend a dedicated amount of time whittling her down she would absolutely say ‘i am so proud of ada and also i wanna smooch her face how do i do that as an exo’ but its just not a thing for her. but part of the reason why ada and scarlet being together was an idea that i had was because i imagine that line of thinking probably suits ada.

“It was at Ada’s request. I had more knowledge of the area in its current state, and felt more comfortable talking to Ikora and her Hidden agents than Ada did…”

supportive exo girlfriends. that is all. man ive gotta write more about these two

“Hmm,” Ada wears a concerned stare masked behind a formal rigidity that Avia knows her Warlock teammate best for.

if im being honest, i just really enjoy this line. i imagine its hard for exos to show concern, esp a character like ada and my girl scarlet, so avia has spent a lot of time dissecting certain facial cues and yeah im proud of how this description came out aha

…as if she hadn’t spent the past few months clipping sidelong comments and threatening him when his Gambit veered out of the realm of her control.

avia is a control freak. plain and simple, and i wanted to make that as obvious as possible considering this sentence is only a few away from avia choosing to go and talk to drifter.

there’s a certain amount of ‘i need to understand this thing that i have limited knowledge on so i can predict/control/plan for it in the future’ in how avia views drifter in general, its a kind-of warlock way of thinking about things but the big difference is avias need for control in these situations is a) selfish and b) only applies to things that she knows she has a good chance of understanding/taming. shes not going around learning about the hive because she has a good understanding that thats a cosmic threat that can only be defended against until it comes. drifter on the other hand is on her doorstep.

i also really loved the contradiction in putting ‘gambit’ and ‘control’ next to each other in a sentence, i kinda hoped it showed how conflicted avia is about going and talking to drifter, and maybe even how naive it is of her to think that it could turn out okay.

She was incensed, maybe, at the way he spoke to Ada, needed to go and stomp the idea out of his head but he got her talking, like he does

i like this line bc its avia acknowledging that she knows how shes viewed. she knows everyone sees her as a hot-head, she knows her anger veers away from her sometimes and whilst she’s gotten better at getting a handle on it, it’s still an aspect of her that people who dont know her well enough find it hard to get past.

i also enjoy how new people to this fic/avia in general might not know that this is a big part of her? so she’s trying to use it as an excuse, ‘well no one can blame me if i say i got really mad because thats what i do’ and it (hopefully) tells new people about that aspect of her character without having to show the worst part of it, the convo with ada being an introduction to it i guess – especially since the past few scenes have seen her a lot softer than im used to writing aha.

“Dammit,” she mutters under her breath. And walks towards the Drifter before she can make a better decision

fun fact – this line was originally ‘and walks down the corridor before she can make a better decision.’

i changed it because i wanted to make it more obvious that avia is making a conscious decision to choose drifter, that she’s walking towards a path that she knows is not a good idea. it provides foreshadowing for the allegiance quest and referring to him as ‘The Drifter’ cements it as an idea that she’s walking towards and not necessarily a person.

#ask thing #thanks buddy!!!#this was really fun #im such a fucking nerd someone put me in the bin honestly ahahaha #jadeisadork.txt

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edsbev · 6 years

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👏🏽 Give 👏🏽 us 👏🏽 the 👏🏽 food 👏🏽! Can we get more Bev and Eddie hcs? We love our gay best friends!

ok this is rlly an eddie/bev/mike hc but i cant get it out my head so ur gonna take it hgdjfs. but anywAY eddie and bev love watching spooky shit together. theyll cuddle up in bevs bed during their sleepovers and watch crime documentaries and weird alien videos on youtube. one night bev swore she saw a ufo in the sky outside her window and they climbed out onto the roof from her bedroom and watched the stars, heads tilted back, eddie with his legs crossed and bev with legs out straight in front of her, looking for flashing lights amongst the dark night, pointing out rlly bright stars to each other and freaking each other out when they swear one of the lights is coming toward them (its not). they scramble down from the roof and hide under bevs covers, so full of adrenaline and energy that they end up erupting into a fit of laughter.

but rlly, they think theyre good when it comes to spooky stuff. the documentaries and youtube vids dont freak them out. its all just a bit of fun, a laugh to them. and so one day, when theyre hanging out with mike at his place, and they mention this, mike - who is a complete horror nerd - is like ‘oh cool!! we should watch a horror movie together!! i have some good ones i can show you”:)). and bev and eddie are like hell yeah hit us up we’re tough we eat cowards for breakfast.

and they settle onto mikes bed. mike in the middle, with his laptop on his lap, and bev and eddie sitting on either side of him. and mike starts up his favourite horror flick. and bev and eddie realise that all the ‘scary’ spooky shit theyve been watching over the past few months is tAME AS HELL.

bev goes pale. eddie’s frozen. but neither of them say anything, or tell mike to stop the movie, bc they spent the past half an hour hyping themselves up as horror fans. “i love creepy shit, we live off it don’t we eddie?” bev had said before, while eddie nodded enthusiastically. “we’re yet to find anything that’s actually scared us,” eddie had added.

so they cant just back out NOW

they suffer through half of the movie. at one point mike pauses it to go get some snacks for them and bev and eddie cant even say anything to each other once he’s left the room. they just turn very slowly to look at each other, eyes wide in terror and panic and disbelief bc theyre rlly fucked and how did they get themselves into this.

when mike comes back, he sets the snacks down on the bed, settles back in between them and says, right before he presses play “hey are u guys rlly into this? bc we can watch something else if u like. i know some comedies u might like.” and its then that they remember that this is mike theyre dealing with. mike “sweetest most considerate person on the planet’ hanlon. not richie or bill or whatever. they dont have to worry abt feeling embarrassed abt being scared even tho theyd both been detailing all the ways they were gonna eat cowards for breakfast an hour ago.

“its fine, the movies actually rlly good,” bev says. and so mike presses play. but for the second half of the movie, bev and eddie feel comfortable enough to curl up either side of him. eddie hides face in mikes bicep every five minutes and bev pulls mike hand into her lap and squeezes it every time theres a jump scare. and they end up watching a comedy straight after to calm eddie n bev down a bit, but they stay snuggled up against mike the whole time. eddie falls asleep with his shirt fisted in mikes shirt and his face tucked into mikes shoulder abt 20 minutes in. mike and bev stay up late talking, voices lowered so as not to wake eddie, until they too get tired, and cuddle together as they fall asleep, bc bevs too scared to sleep without having one of mikes arms wrapped completely around her.

horror movie nights at mike’s becomes a regular thing.

#Anonymous #ask #edbev #eddie/mike/bev #mine #why does everything i write get long as hell #gfhjdksd

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horner88breen-blog · 5 years

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Can One Truly Leave the Sex Industry

Inside my 5-6 years in the escorting world, I just need seen one woman completely get out of the sex industry. Others, a small minority, may leave apparently industry but typically revert back to selling themselves after a few weeks/months/years. I will never forgot the words, Shell be back, said along with a Madame (brothel/escort business owner) at an establishment I worked at overseas. Consider the 63 after a popular young woman decided it was her last day in the industry, and she wanted to do pursue her new normal job and boyfriend. Shell be backhow discouraging, yet later I realized how real the statement actually was. Paulina Leaving the information mill NEVER without war. Paulina is the only former-escort I understand who has left the industry entirely. She has managed so far successfully, but it wasnt easy at in the beginning. I came to know her intimately only after she left the industry and when she almost fell back to it. However, when she was still in the industry and we were working together we hardly mingled. Having been the odd girl who stayed away from the casual sex, drugs, and party scene, so generally she, like many working girls, found little commonality with my lifestyle. Paulina was a stupendous South America girl who immigrated towards the West at a young age. I witnessed her loss-of-innocence in her escorting days, which happens when she involved herself with heavy partying and living with another escort (a match for disaster). She ended up getting involved through expensive drug (cocaine) habit, which looks the drug of choice for elite escorts/clients. Thankfully, her experimenting phase was short-lived, and ended in one year. One thing that Paulina and I have done have in common was our conflicting values of traditional and modern. She was raised on the inside West, yet she still held on to her traditional South American values (her cultural values conflicted with the individualistic, care-free values she was living as the prostitute). Selling sex is often not problematic, but rather the lifestyle frequently related to high-class prostitutes is damaging (excessive partying, excess shallowness). She'd quit the industry, and completely got away from drug treatments and partying. She called me from your nowhere one day, and wanted to. At first I couldnt discover why she would suddenly want to meet me, but later she told me that I was the only person she hoped to trust from this industry. In her view, I was someone who probably would not tempt her back up in her bad habits, yet I could relate to her because I was an escort overly. I was flattered, and determined to help her stay off from prostitution, even though I wasnt in order to leave myself. She had deep emotional scars from being a prostitute, and think it is hard confide in anyone. She had met a lovely man, but he previously had no idea about her past and she or he wanted to maintain it to remain that way. Whenever she got depressed or felt the urge to return to selling herself, she called me for comfort. I havent seen her in over one year, since she lives overseas where That i used to live. Currently, she's still out of the business, and a wedding soon to the love of her lifetime. She is my hopebecause if she could continue to be away from the industry, then a genuine effort . hope. Unfortunately, it is extremely easy to fall back into prostitution The pattern Ive observed has become common: women leave the industry to pursue love, and they return when that love failed. Another woman I am aware did quit the industry, however she recently admitted that she is returning to escorting. Why? Because she broke up with the person she wanted. Months ago I remember her saying If I wasnt with my boyfriend, then I would personally still be selling myself. This is classic of women trying to depart the industry, and perhaps the most depressing part of computer. Over the years, I met countless women whove returned to prostitution after a failed relationship. Well known girls say they wasted their youth in their failed relationships when they might have been essentially exploiting their youthfulness by selling themselves. During the night these women return to sex work, their hearts are dented. Yes, I have seen many broken hearted women returning to selling their bodies, yet sadly it looks like theyve also lost their souls. When falling in love with a potential partner, an escort to be able to ask herself: Is he worth this method? Is love, itself, enough to quit her autonomy and employment? The men she rejects are individuals cannot leave her with financial freedom, even though they may be willing to adore and treat her decent. Other escorts choose the latter, which is to avoid relationships altogether and focus on man or women. How often do escorts leave the industry when a man is NOT in photographs? I have yet to stumbled upon a prostitute who leaves the industry sector for her very own intuition. Stick to ask myself this question: Do I would like to leave because I want love? Perhaps, as most of us desire love and global recognition. Sadly, acceptance is only granted when people conform to whats frequent. And of course, being a sex worker is out-of-the-norm in modern societies, thus furthering us beyond your societies embrace. But again, it doesnt have staying this form. There are people who fight these oppressive norms that marginalize sex workers its not a very bad thing to differ. But being outside the norms of society requires lots of strength. There is absolutely no social space allocated for prostitutes. As a result, we face tremendous pressure to adhere to the normative ways of living life (such as marriage, owning a home, etc). Although Used to quit for a short period when I realized i was engaged, I never mentally prepared myself that I've been finished is not industry. I still haven't. Its a question that Ive been avoiding to answer: when will I quit? Does an individual even to help quit? Would I remaining? I used to want to quit, and I told myself that I would personally quit selling my body after I'm finished my graduate data. Regardless, I dont feel that Im ready to make now. Enjoy aspects of my job, but I just do not wish the implications (the stigma, the degradation of the industry, the legalities, etc). Fear of leaving sex-work is unique. Escorts in Manchester of emotions. Im aware that the stigma is damaging me, but when times are great I tend to ignore the damage Im executing. At times, sex work doesnt appear like a problem for some escorts, and for others, it is deeply damaging psychologically. But overall, one cannot deny the problem of hunting live in the world where ones identity is constantly hidden and condemned. Social Darwinism, the idea that started this complete survival of the fittest competition among society is a false notion, the idea may be very real in modern society. Im aware that competition is simply a socially constructed concept, yet sadly I feel deeply pressured to engage in this race in society. I fear that if I dont sell myself, I will lose out in this particular competition. This is exactly what needs to change, I have to let go of the pressures of mainstream the population. Why do I want to participate this shallow competition primarily? This is increase in a cold society (Western-Liberal societies) that puts increased progress, individualism, competition, status, and monetary wealth. This is what drove me to the Social Sciences as an area of study: society deeply impacts how people think and react. I assign other reasons why I entered into prostitution on social stress. Once youre in the sex industry, it is very hard to depart. A woman I know is wanting her much better to pursue the usual job but admits she gets the pressure to get back escorting. Its too easy (escorting), and also the money is quick. Her mind, like most escorts, becomes tainted whilst haunting fact: a few hours or an evening of escorting can pay all the bills that would take 1-2 weeks of hard act on a normal job. Did any of folks imagine growing accustomed to our lifestyles? Did we ever imagine that wed donrrrt slave to our own addiction for fast-money? Of course not. A wonderful friend of mine is a former receptionist in intercourse party industry. She told me how she was inclined to become an escort, however she changed her mind once she saw the reality: escorts may make lots of money, but at the high cost of our emotions. Provides you with ask myself time and time againWas it this?

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stellar-stag · 7 years

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Status Update

Hey y’all, it’s been a while. I spend like all of my social time on Twitter nowadays, so this tumblr has essentially become a garbage meme repository. I’m sorry about that.

These last couple months have been...interesting. Lotta stuff has happened, and I’m still quite frankly processing all of it. But I need to vent, and what better way than to scream into the void, right?

Obscenely personal shit under the cut:

Ok, so the uninteresting stuff out of the way first: My condo is almost fully furnished, just need to receive one last delivery, do some rearranging, and hang up some pictures and it’ll be all prettyful. I’m excited, y’all.

Also, I got LASIK! I don’t wear glasses anymore! It’s really fucking weird, especially considering how impulsive the decision was. But I don’t regret it, and I think (?) it will help boost my self-confidence.

Onto the gossip: Hoo boy.

Ok so, y’all may remember workout boy whom I mentioned in a previous post. Friend S (as I will be calling him from here on out because I’m lazy) got a new job and moved, with his girlfriend (who was staying with him for the summer) to new job. So he went off the radar for a bit, and between feeling like I was being ignored, seeing a steady stream of tweets about how much he loved his girlfriend soooo much (”Drinking with the gf!” “Its great when I get in bed and gf cuddles me in her sleep!” “Boy, condoms are expensive!” etc.) I got hurt. Bad. Like, emotional pain manifesting physically as chest pains bad. I know hes heteroromantic and I never had a shot ever but god, I *loved* (maybe still do?) him. But I also couldn’t take the chance of going on twitter and seeing a tweet that’d make me feel like I’d been stabbed. Adding onto the fact that S increasingly was only contacting me about job/programming related stuff (which is less an interest and more a career to me) and I felt less a friend and more a job resource.

So I blocked him, on every media we shared. I still have mixed feelings about this. Part of me hopes it will diminish the feelings and maybe make friendship possible, part of me just wants nothing to do with him, part of me regrets it but knows if I go back I’ll be on the hook for him forever, and part of me just wants him to hurt as much as I’ve been hurt. It’s definitely possible to do the right thing in the wrong way for the wrong reasons, just as its possible to be hurt by someone who didn’t do anything wrong. Ugh.

While I was in radio silence mode from S, I went to BiggestLittleFurCon in Reno for a weekend. I hung out with good friends, made some new ones, and, most interestingly, met up again with Friend B, who I first met at ANE in January. Now, when we first met, they seemed very cool, and I felt like a weird tagalong kid because I knew so few people in the fandom. But they messaged me after, thanking me for paying for dinner, etc, and recently, I began playing FFXIV with them and their friends (including Friend M, who I’ll get back to).

So when I show up, we’re hanging out, and then B lowkey drops that they’re interested in me (they’re poly with a bf, but expressed explicit romantic interest). Now, after much teasing and hanging out, we end up hooking up, which, was awesome, but weird? Cause it didn’t mesh with my cognition, that no one was romantically interested in me. I managed to avoid considering it purely due to pity after B reassured me they were interested since ANE.

Quick TMI sidebar: The more I think about it, the more I’m really not sure sex is for me? Like, I’m not ace, I can and do experience sexual attraction/arousal at dudes, but when it comes to the actual *act* I just end up anxious? Focusing on reciprocation, not being awkward or uncomfortable, etc. I’m not super experienced so I can’t tell if this is something that’ll get better with comfort with partners or if its just not for me, but time will tell. *shrug*

ANYWAYS

So B has expressed interest but also seems to want to go for a casual, FWB/friends except we makeout/cuddle a lot friendship (which, as an eastie, is not a new concept to me). But I’m considering if I have the potential for deeper feelings for them, if pursuing them is practical, if I will become jealous, if I am, in fact, poly after all, and a whole lot else besides.

Friend B has also showered me with support in an attempt to help counter my self-loathing, and part of that has been joking anger when I express it. And it works, mostly, but me being an anxious mess, I feel like not expressing my self-hatred doesn’t completely make it go away, it just makes me hide it and not express myself fully. I don’t know if that’s the actual solution or if it’s just avoiding dealing with the problem, but I do know that sometimes it makes me feel bad for being a downer because it makes others sad, which makes me feel worse, and it gets into this awful feedback loop. So there’s that.

Now while all THAT has been happening, I’ve been talking to Friend M. M is actually an artist I’ve commissioned in the past. He’s cute, cool, I think poly/pan, and in general I have a bit of a crush (cause I’m thirstier than a desert)

So to join this group of people playing this game and be interacting with him on the regular is cool but also...nerve-wracking? Cause I’m interested, but I have no clue if he is or if he just thinks I’m a weird rando. I also worry because he seems like a more sexually confident/sexual person, and on the off chance something did ever happen I dunno if I could offer that. So I’ve got to navigate playing it cool and letting this friendship develop naturally while also neutralizing my paralyzing fear of letting my romantic feelings ruin friendships utterly as theyve done basically every time in the past (Friend S, 2 guys in college, a bunch in high school, I think I’m basically not speaking regularly or particularly close to any guy I’ve had powerful romantic feelings for, which sucks! I wanna stop ruining these friendships!)

SO YEAH

Takeaways:

1. I gotta figure out what needs to be done WRT S. I feel bad but if blocking him is the right solution, what do I do?

2. Figure out what I want from my friendship with B.

3. Play it cool with M.

4. Work on the whole self-confidence thing, preferably in a way that doesn’t feel like I’m bottling up my emotions and just lying to people cause they prefer a fake, happy version of me to the honest me. I’d like them to like an honest AND happy me, but small steps for now.

tl;dr I’m too gay to function and mentally unwell, what else is new

#long post #ramblings of a gay man #talking bout sex and sexuality and romance #things I have little experience in

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primadonnatartuffe · 7 years

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RYAN: -tonight is the night ryan would fall off the wagon after spending way too long in a bar singing, fending off offers to buy her drinks as well as her own impulses. but this is what happens when you put yourself in these kinds of locations. it was only a matter of time.-

RYAN: -pain pills are easy enough to come by, and even easier to choke down when you're drunk. a wild evening results in ryan making her usual commute back home, late at night, on her own... making her an easy target for a mugging.-

RYAN: -things get a little hazy after that point. but she remembers seeing jack arrive on the scene before blacking out.-

RYAN: -... and then she woke up, back at the bar where it all began. she snorts awake from a puddle of drool with the bar tender tapping her head and telling her they're closing. she had a half finished drink which apparently made her both sleepy and guilty enough to pass out and have some kind of shitty nightmare. or... something. regardless, it's time to make the trek home, but her mind is still buzzing.-

RYAN: -she's been having an awful lot of realistic dreams lately. way more than she has her entire life. jack seems to play a role in a considerable number of them, but she finds it unsettling in this case. this isn't her idealizing him rescuing her. it's more like... a very plausible thing if he ever saw her getting into trouble in one of his visions. and the idea of that makes her feel incredibly guilty.-

RYAN: -she snaps out of her thoughts long enough to notice she's coming upon the alley from her dream. it would be wise to avoid it, but she wants to prove to herself it was just a dream... it would all be alright, like every other evening. and besides, she'd be on her toes anyway. she can fend for herself. still, her heart races as she turns down that street.-

JACK: -It's a feeling that creeps up his spine and settles with a heavy weight in his mind. Nagging and insistent, Jack knows no rest until he's forced to emerge from his apartment and pace the Skaian streets. He knows this feeling by now, like tuning into a radio station full of scenarios that chill his blood in a terribly familiar way.-

JACK: -He can practically taste the dread in his mouth. His hands feel for a pack tucked into the pocket of his windbreaker until he's fishing out the cig he's searching for. Before too long, Jack has it tucked between his teeth. The tobacco burning in a (failed) hope of stowing off the metallic tang on his tongue.-

JACK: -While his feet carry him down the turns of concrete and crosswalks, images begin to press to the blanket of sightlessness that were his eyes. Taking him an hour, half an hour, moments into the future. Stringlets of fate belonging to complete strangers, they paint Jack's surroundings to perfect clarity. He can See the darkened street where Ryan turns. Her steps hobbled and uncertain, the very opposite of sober.-

JACK: -He also Sees when the three figures depart from the bar, having watched Ryan the whole time she'd spent drinking and then finally leaving on her own. A few seconds of context and clairvoyant observation left Jack knowing their intention. They were faceless, strangers in his visions, except for Ryan. Her face he would recognize anywhere and he realizes... He doesn't have much time to revel in the picturesque details he'd been missing out on.-

JACK: -And so Jack takes a short cut, cutting straight through an alley where he might intercept Ryan on the other side. No need for conflict if he can avoid it. His hand shoots out to catch her at the elbow.- (Ryan.)

RYAN: -as alert as she tries to be, naturally she's glancing around nervously in all directions except the one jack suddenly emerges from. she feels his hand on her, stirring up a yelp and a startled jump.- JESUS FUCK.

RYAN: -her heart beats right out of her chest and it only starts to settle when she recognizes the dimly lit figure beside her.- (jack???)

RYAN: (what are you doing here?) -she doesn't sound entirely clueless, but she asks it all the same.-

JACK: -He can sense the group's balk in the distance as they see his interception of Ryan. But it'll only be a moment, just long enough for Jack to take her by the hand and zip further into the alley.- (No time.)

JACK: -Navigates with surprising finesse for a blind guy. Managing to avoid crates, broken bottles, garbage cans, anything that will cut it close to an encounter with their would-be pursuers. Within a few minutes, Jack is pulling Ryan in... only to duck with her into the archway of a backway door. The locked from the outside kind, probably belonging to the grounded restaurant kitchen beyond. His visions told him as much.-

JACK: -He keeps a hand to her, hushing her while he listened and searched the immediate future. They were certainly out of sight now...-

RYAN: -alright, so much for her calming down. she sputters one last incoherent protest before the pair of them bob and weave through the alley's obstacles. this is all too fucking Real, she thinks, and it certainly doesn't quell her paranoid fears that what she saw was, in some way, her fate.-

RYAN: -they linger in the archway, but the pause does nothing to quiet her racing thoughts or the unpleasant churn of anxiety in her stomach. she looks to jack, leaning into him a little to try to relax and trust that whatever is going on, he's got it under control better than she does. because what the fuck???-

RYAN: -exhales after a moment and turns towards him to hiss a whisper.- (we got time now?)

JACK: -As the prospect of danger fades, so does his pseudo-ability to see. Everything takes to the comfort of pitch black and once again, Jack is left alone with the hush of Ryan's voice in his ear. The smell of booze is on her breath, the same way the cigarette smell must be clinging to his own clothes.-

JACK: -his hand releases her and finds its way to her shoulder, squeezing at her in a way he hopes is reassuring.- Yes.

JACK: We'll give it another minute or two. -talks as if they're avoiding something like a sudden bout of rain instead of... what just could have been.-

RYAN: alright. -she fidgets, but manages to collect herself as quiet returns between them. there are things she'd like to say that she isn't sure how.-

RYAN: ... jack? i uh...

RYAN: -sighs- there were guys following me. right?

JACK: -There's no point in lying... but he doesn't like the tension in her voice either. Despite everything, he would still prefer not to take it as what it could have been but rather what it is now. Ryan, safe because of his own intervention. He would count his lucky stars if he could.-

JACK: There were.

JACK: But safe to say, they're gone now. -blinks and kind of registers their proximity of one another. Crossing his arms, Jack turns to lean back against the door instead, lining her shoulder up by his own.- Lucky break.

RYAN: ... i knew about them.

RYAN: but i didnt think it would actually happen.

RYAN: i mean... fuck. -runs a hand through her hair.- how do i put this?

RYAN: -she turns her head to look at him again, confused and scared, but if anyone would understand, it had to be him... right?- i keep having these dreams. theyre always about me... things that happen to me. and they feel so real. but they never... theyve never happened.

RYAN: i saw those guys coming after me. but even in that dream it was different.

RYAN: ... i dunno. maybe its just a coincidence. im basically a sitting duck walking out here on my own.

JACK: Not always, you know. Just this one time. -gently nudges her with an elbow. He can't see how confused and fearful her expression is, but he can certainly hear it in her words. Jack opts to keep a cool head.- When did you have this dream.

RYAN: -scoffs and nudges him back.- just earlier today.

RYAN: at the bar.

RYAN: ... after i drank a little.

RYAN: i guess i fell asleep.

JACK: -falls quiet and thoughtful at that, focusing on the circumstance. It was unique to say the least and one he couldn't help but identify with.- Is this a recent thing? You say dreams in the plural sense of the word.

RYAN: -nods slowly- yeah. for the past... month or so?

RYAN: theyre usually about... shit like this.

RYAN: me making poor decisions or getting into trouble or...

RYAN: uhh... -glances off, flustered when she remembers the bulk of the things she dreams about. whoops.- mostly just that.

JACK: -strokes a thumb at his chin, nodding. Ohhh if he knew what she was thinking.- It's interesting.

JACK: But something you can't expect to know the ins and outs of right away.

JACK: I would suggest you take it with a grain of salt. Maybe... -drops the cane from his sylladex, weighing it in one hand for a moment.- Try not to tempt fate so often.

JACK: The dreams are there for a reason.

RYAN: mrgg. well that much is obvious to me. -rubs at her head, feeling annoyed with herself when she reflects back on all these potential disasters she's gotten herself into. but of course, not everything she dreams about is regrettable.-

RYAN: sometimes thats easier said than done.

RYAN: but hey. im trying to be wiser.

RYAN: -glances down at the ground, then loops her arm with his.- youre walking home with me of course.

JACK: I can't see an instance where I don't. -ba dum tshh. He's glad to take her arm in his and takes the lead out of the alley way. Truly homefree.- I don't suppose you mean my home. Or yours.

RYAN: -HOME IS WHEREVER I'M WITH YOOOOUUU.-

RYAN: well... technically were closer to my place from here but.

RYAN: i think id rather crash with you. if thats alright.

JACK: I won't oppose you... -when it comes time for them to take that street turn, Jack leads them on.- But on a more serious note.

JACK: I'm also going to suggest you stay away from the kareoke bars a while.

JACK: It's... not an easy thing. Relapsing. -squeezes at her wrist a little. As if reminding.-

RYAN: yeah... -as he squeezes her wrist, she finds herself drifting closer to him, brushing elbows.-

RYAN: guess thatd count as making wiser decisions.

RYAN: -she quiets, her train of thought bringing her away from him again, though she keeps her hand on his arm.- im... sorry jack.

JACK: -a smile quirks on his face as their elbows brush.- No need to be.

JACK: I was here this time. I'd say if anything, this night turned out well. It's what's real and it's what matters.

RYAN: -that answer surprises her a little, but it's a relief.- i guess so...

RYAN: i just dont wanna worry you. that you gotta hunt me down like that.

RYAN: im... trying.

JACK: If anyone knows how hard you're trying, it's me. -says, squeezing at her knuckles now.- And I won't worry either.

JACK: I can put off pre-mature grays for only so long.

RYAN: -that makes her smile and she returns to leaning against him, taking his hand up in hers just to squeeze back.- fair.

RYAN: i can rest assured knowing youre gonna look good gray too. -snickers-

JACK: You know for a fact? -sounds bemused-

JACK: I don't suppose your dreams tell you as much.

RYAN: i mean its hard to go wrong.

RYAN: youre somehow pulling off this disheveled gives no fucks look after all. -ruffles his hair with her free hand.-

JACK: Thank you. -smiles, glad for the hair mussings.-

JACK: The secret is forgetting that combs exist from time to time. At least twice a week.

RYAN: oh yeah. at the very least. id be surprised if you even own one anymore. -the closer they get to jack's place, the more her heart rate quickens. she worries if this is real, and if she's going to do something she shouldn't again. it's only a matter of time before that becomes a reality too, isn't it? she tries to tell herself it's probably in her head, but it doesn't stop the anxiety.-

RYAN: ... by the way thanks for letting me stay with you so often. i know neither of you would wanna turn me away but you know. i appreciate being welcome all the time. -shrugs a little.-

JACK: -It's just like Ryan to shrug off an honest sentiment. So the blind guy leads the buzzed girl up the stairs and it goes about as well as one expects. He nods, holding her hand and feeling up the stair rails with the free hand.-

JACK: If it was your house, you would be doing the same for me. -touches the first door but it's obviously not their house. He guides Ryan all the way to the third. He begins fiddling with his keys to get the door unlocked.- I personally enjoy having space to my own.

JACK: No moms or dads staying up late to make sure I'm home in one piece. I appreciate their concern but nine times out of ten, I'm perfectly fine. -rambles the whole way into the house. Predictably, Audrey the pitbull greets them with a sniff and a boop of her nose at their hands. Oh yeah. Jack should probably release that now.-

RYAN: -NEVER. but it's alright, her hands are now occupied giving this pup pets.- tell me about it...

RYAN: one of these days ill have my own place again. or i can room with someone i guess. since russet suggested it i kinda feel compelled to resist it with all my being.

RYAN: plus i just... ya know. dont wanna burden anybody until im in a better place.

RYAN: ... but then again i guess im kinda doing that already without necessarily burdening anybody so hey.

RYAN: not that im suggesting i room with yall but uh yeah thats just where my train of thought took me.

RYAN: ... -wanders inside, but she's lingering a little awkwardly like she isn't sure if she wants to sit or not.-

JACK: All the couch needs is a plaque with your name on it. -He doesn't seem to mind that she lingers, shuffling off for his kitchen like he is. After a few minutes and from the smell of it, Jack is making himself a mug of hot chocolate.- I know Sage would like the prospect of extended sleepovers.

RYAN: -belatedly decides to hover, joining him in the kitchen.- heh. without a doubt.

RYAN: hey... make me one. -prods at him.-

JACK: -lets her have this drink he's already done preparing.- Fine. -gets to making himself another. Feeling around a cabinet for another mug.-

JACK: I think you should consider a roommate though. It's a system that works wonders on Sage and I. Hell.

JACK: It's best if you can find someone you can fuss at the same way they fuss at you. That way you don't feel like it's a burdening dynamic. It's how it works for us.

RYAN: -scoffs...- oh wait youre serious.

RYAN: i dunno if i know anyone that i can fuss at. pretty much everyone i know has their shit together waaay more than i do. -sips the chocolate as she leans against a counter and thinks about this.-

JACK: It helps not to make those assumptions. -stirs the powder into the hot water with a spoon.- But again.

JACK: Just an idea.

RYAN: :P

RYAN: its something to consider i guess. maybe ill get lucky. or however that works.

JACK: You could ask your dreams about it. -licks the spoon, tapping it at his mouth in contemplation.- Another hypothetical thought.

RYAN: yeah right. maybe if i want some insight on the worst candidates for the position since so far theyve only been good for warning me not to be a complete dunderfuck.

RYAN: or to be like prepared.

RYAN: for things.

RYAN: that some people apparently arent prepared for.

RYAN: since theyre not all bad dreams so. i dunno maybe youre onto something. -STOP WHILE YOU STILL CAN RYAN. she squints at her mug and takes a generous gulp.-

JACK: So if they're not bad, they must be good. -sips his own mug, elbow leaned back against the counter.- I say you give it a try.

RYAN: guess it cant hurt!

RYAN: -she's feeling flustered all over again now that they're back to this subject. she wonders if it's something she should address, or if that would be an even worse decision. maybe she can be subtle about it.-

RYAN: heeeeeeey. actually while were still talking about my whacky dream shenanigans...

RYAN: so some of them arent exactly bad... sure... maybe they are actually really good!

RYAN: but what if they arent? i mean if the running theme of every other dream is something i shouldnt do then maybe these good dreams could be categorized as the same thing.

RYAN: and even if they ARENT then what DO they mean? since as you said they mean SOMETHING...

JACK: -fishes out a marshmallow before answering.- Tough question but it's a good one to ask.

JACK: From my perspective, the visions manifest as... often worst-case scenarios. What would happen if I don't do "x". But your dreams? You can't say they're the same thing.

JACK: Maybe it's not inherently about good or bad but rather your decisions. And what comes out of them. That make sense?

RYAN: -turns the mug in her hand.- when you put it like that... yeah. it does. -baccia said more or less the same thing, but it still raises some questions.-

RYAN: but i guess in this case im not sure... what would come out of it... if i did wind up doing those things. and thats why im wary of it.

RYAN: cuz it could be great. or it could totally set u-- uhh. me... up for disaster and its...

RYAN: -glances down at the hot chocolate.- its something i really wouldnt wanna fuck up.

JACK: Hmmm. Well.

JACK: Great or not, I guess... just like with most major, uncertain decisions.

JACK: You would have to make a gamble on whether it's worth going through with or not. Not that I'm the best candidate to offer such advice. -snorts a little into his drink.- But the possibilities still stand.

RYAN: -quiets, shuffling her feet and letting all this rattle around in her head. then she shuffles her feet over to him, standing shoulder to shoulder again.-

RYAN: ...

RYAN: theyre sex dreams.

RYAN: a metric fuck ton of sex dreams.

RYAN: aboutttttt... yooouuu?

JACK: -He can physically hear the record scratch in his head as he takes a long hard gulp of hot chocolate. Scalding his mouth and leaving him to stifle the wheeze. He deserved this.- Mgh. Ghhhhf.

JACK: -SWALLOWS.- Metric fuck ton.

JACK: Of... chronologically probable sex dreams. -Has to repeat it to make sure he's hearing this right.-

RYAN: yeeeeeup.

RYAN: im only kind of exaggerating. hahaha.

RYAN: oh god.

RYAN: -hello darkness my old friend...-

JACK: -stands there with his mug like mmmmmmmygod.- "Kind of". -clears his throat and shakes his head.-

JACK: How often do they occur before you have to qualify something as "a metric fuck ton"? -He's almost afraid to ask but well. Here he is. Staring into the void.-

RYAN: like... i dunno... about as often as i stay over???

RYAN: i say... after deciding to stay over.

RYAN: fuck.

JACK: Well. That...

JACK: ... -ends up holding his chin just to grasp the gravity of all that she's implying.-

JACK: Certainly... puts things into perspective.

RYAN: lmaoooo.

RYAN: yeah i... okay im not just bringing this up so we can be collectively ashamed of ourselves.

RYAN: i figure... if all these dreams are about my decisions and shit then im DECIDING to talk about it instead of jumping your bones. or waiting for you to jump my bones. or for both of us to jump at each other at the same time.

RYAN: ... -puts her head in her hand and SIGHS- not that those details matter... or i guess maybe they do if these are things that actually couldve happened.

RYAN: cuz that means... it isnt just me...?

JACK: -he gnaws absently on his thumb as she rambles. Picturing all the times he shuffled around, debating. Knowing he wasn't going to go through with it but wanting to. Fantasizing?? Even just remembering was bringing some sweat to his forehead.- ...Christ.

JACK: It's... a pickle. To say the least. -chews his thumb.- Sorry.

JACK: I'm probably not much help with this. -wheezes gently.-

RYAN: -frowns- you could be though?

RYAN: like clearly theres an elephant in the room we should be addressing.

RYAN: or!! its something i want to address.

RYAN: because it sucks just sitting on how im feeling. and i know i suck at talking about it. but i wanna try to be better at that too.

RYAN: especially... especially with you.

JACK: -takes a deep breath... ultimately nodding. He runs his hand through his hair.- Yeah.

JACK: You're right. It's just...

JACK: God. -brings a hand and runs it down his face.- It's fucking insane. -says muffled.-

JACK: Sometimes... fantasies oughta stay fantasies, huh? -drops his hands back down to his sides.- Sheesh.

RYAN: ... maybe.

RYAN: but why is it... on our minds in the first place? and so frequently???

RYAN: its not... mmrg.

RYAN: its not just a fantasy for me. its not just about fucking around. okay?

JACK: -he sobers up a little, unsure of himself but dammit. Wanting to give talking it through a try.- I know. That's not what I meant.

JACK: I just...

JACK: Thought it was a safe thing.

JACK: Letting myself be indecisive.

JACK: You know it never works out if we think too much so... often times it's just about the feelings. -He doesn't know what he's saying but whatever it is, Jack is sure it was making him sound like a thoughtless dick. The shame is starting to catch up now that he thinks about it.-

RYAN: -winces and turns away from him, setting the mug down on the counter to use the mindless action as an excuse to process this. it's definitely a little frustrating, but even moreso when she doesn't really understand.- what do you mean... a safe thing?

JACK: -rubs his head in frustration and sighs.- Do you ever see me turning away? In these visions?

JACK: Dreams. Sorry.

RYAN: ... no. i dont.

JACK: -drums his fingers a little bit.- Well, logically speaking.

JACK: It's not just your own desires that are inducing the decisions behind the dreams. And you're not selfish or crazy for having them.

RYAN: -folds her arms, hugging herself while her stomach does all sorts of acrobatic stunts.- okay so... then what???

RYAN: thats what i wanna know.

RYAN: if youre feeling the same way i am... i just want to figure out what i should do about it.

RYAN: what... we should do about it.

JACK: I don't... have that answer. I don't See what happens if we go through with.... these hypothetical scenarios.

JACK: It's not disastrous? You've never been disastrous. -makes a vague gesture. It seems kind of wistful.- You've always been...

JACK: Just you. A person.

JACK: Reaching for the good as much as anyone else.

RYAN: -looks at him again, expression softening.- ... well. since neither of us knows where things would go...

RYAN: maybe a better question is... what do we want to do about it?

JACK: -He has to consider everything in front of him now. It was like living through a dose of ice cold deja vu. Ryan, their relationship, the past, the future... In these few moments, Jack is quiet. The conflict warring on his face, despite being unable to see her. If only he had the reassurance of her expression, then he'd be able to make sense of all the blank spaces.-

JACK: You're always so close. -begins carefully, his blind eyes worried.- It seems... inevitable. No matter what we do. How hard we try.

RYAN: -swallows dryly as she turns to face him and reaches to touch his arm, gentle and reassuring in the absence of the look on her face.- are you scared?

JACK: -as she touches him, he releases the breath he didnt know he was holding.- Always.

JACK: You know me.

RYAN: -her hand travels up along his shoulder till she's coiling her arms around him, pulling him into a hug.- yeah.

RYAN: me too.

RYAN: maybe we can be... scared together?

RYAN: im not trying to say that we need to have it all figured out right now...

RYAN: i just dont wanna... run away from this. i dont wanna do that kinda thing anymore jackie.

JACK: -hardly resists her embrace. In fact, he coils into it. Burying himself against her shoulder and holding her tight.- I know...

JACK: But habits are hard to put to rest. And it's hard trying to...

JACK: Tell myself that I'm ready. And that I won't catch myself in the same cycle as before. I've spent so long trying to break from it. But is it enough?

JACK: -He nuzzles her.- I have no fucking clue.

RYAN: -laughs a little, returning the nuzzles.- well fuck. im right there with you.

RYAN: im not gonna be reckless about it though and say i dont give a fuck?? cuz i do. like...

RYAN: i wanna be more aware of my own bullshit.

RYAN: but i feel like its been easier... cuz ive had help. and ive let people help. i never did before.

RYAN: -squeezes him a little tighter.- i think we can help each other too. youre already doing that for me...

JACK: -Hugs her so tight, he lifts her a little bit. The stronk hobo that he is.- Yeah...

JACK: -And with that, he turns and presses a kiss to her cheek.- I just.

JACK: Love you. Somewhere in all this fuckery of a mess. I do.

RYAN: -her cheeks warm at the contact, butterflies fluttering all around her stomach and chest, inspiring more laughter and the threat of tears.- i love you too. i never fucking stopped.

RYAN: -returns the kiss, and then once more. leaving behind lipstick stains he unfortunately won't be able to discover later, but they're there all the same.-

JACK: -It's hard being on the receiving end of Ryan kisses. It's hard and nobody understands that when you receive one, you had to receive more. And so Jack leans, bringing a hand to her hair, the back of her head. Angling her chin up so he can press a soft sweet kiss to her lips.-

RYAN: -chills run up and down her spine, an elating warmth settling over her skin when it passes. her hands clasp at his hair, interlocking with messy strands to give her a grip while she returns this kiss too, deepening it with the tilt of her head.-

JACK: -The velvety soft of her kiss was like everything Jack remembered... but in real time. No longer clouded by memory or the passing of time. It was a crystal clear, high definition of Ryan Strider brand kisses. Tinted by the taste of hot chocolate, he knew each time his lips energetically plucked the kisses from hers.-

JACK: Fuck it all... -says while humming with satisfaction, the more she carded fingers through his hair.-

RYAN: thats what i like to hear. -the shape of her lips form a wide smile against his, but that alone couldn't even express her joy. her hands move to frame his face instead for her to look him over. scruffy as he is, he's still the most handsome man she's ever laid eyes on, and it feels good to admire this without guilt.-

RYAN: hey jack... its really getting late. shouldnt we think about lying down?

JACK: Late for you maybe. The wicked know no sleep. -he smiles, exhaling with relief and the buzz of warmth in his cheeks. He fiddles with more of her downy soft hair between his fingers.- But I guess I could lie in wait for a while.

RYAN: -snickers at his jokes, nudging into his touch.- alright edward. come on. -captures his hand in hers so she can escort him to his own bedroom. she's visited it enough in her dreams to know every step like the back of her hand. when she passes through the door, she's pulling him in for more kisses, as if she had been waiting another lifetime for them, rather than only a few moments.-

JACK: -follows her kisses into well... His bedroom. He knew the direction and he was conscious of how bold she was for leading the way. The truth was really shedding some light on the situation. Holy moly.- Make yourself at home. -mutters, squeezing at her hands and stealing more precious pecks. The door is closing behind them.-

RYAN: i always do. -guides him to the bed, slowly seating herself and tugging him along with her continued insistence. side by side, she pauses to run her hands over his shoulders, studying his frame as if testing the solidity of him. the reality of him.-

RYAN: im not dreaming again am i?

JACK: I guess we'll find out tomorrow when you wake up. -for all his griping, he stifles a yawn. Relaxing under the hands that run by his shoulders. One of his own thumb comes to lightly stroke her chin. Coaxing her to relax.-

RYAN: ... yeah. alright. -she's torn between the anxiety to stay awake with him, to savor every moment of this, and getting rest to test out the theory that in the morning they'll actually wake up together. but ultimately, his touch has her lying back against the pillows and sheets, beckoning him to follow.-

JACK: -Here he comes. Rolling into bed and feeling around for a way to get comfortable. Preferably with Ryan gathered up in his arms.-

RYAN: -she helps him out, fitting herself against the shape of him, juxtaposed with her back to his front. and with his arms around her, she can finally start to relax.-

#invincibleDetective #in which I just love you

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kristie-rp · 5 years

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[2018] Michael & Lucas: Origins

When Michael is born, his parents name him Mizushima Miko. He is their second son: his older brother is Mizushima Juuki. Juuki immediately adores Miko; he’s fascinated and spends as much time as he can watching over his little brother. It’s actually a considerable amount of time: he is still too young to go to school, and his parents are too paranoid to trust a sitter – but they are also far too busy to make time to actually look after their children.

Juuki is primarily alive at this point thanks to an aunt that visits at least once a week, a woman who claims to be their mothers sister and who looks absolutely nothing like either of their parents. Tamie, the woman he calls aunt, teaches him everything he can grasp to make baby Miko’s life easier.

It’s enough, in many ways. Miko grows up both easier and harder than Juuki. The youngest boy is not comfortable around his parents, is quiet and watchful whenever possible. He learns young that it is more effective to babble at Juuki after prolonged periods of quiet than it is to cry, because if he cries, one of his parents may come in.

One of Miko’s earliest memories – certainly the first to involve either of his parents – is of his mother leaning down into his crib. She is wearing all black, with a scarf of sorts around her neck, and something protruding from her back, held in place by a strap. In the memory, he stares first at the tail end of a military-issue machine gun that is on his mothers back as she kisses his tiny cheek, and then at her face as she pulls the scarf up to cover everything except for her eyes. “Sleep well, my precious baby,” she says in the memory, and then disappears into the night.

They grow up in a house that is big and empty, surprisingly so considering Aunt Tamie and their parents and their parents co-workers are coming and going all the time. Juuki continues to do everything he can to raise Miko without attracting their parents attention, and they never talk about it. To Miko, this is normal; to Juuki, this is better. Tamie especially expresses her pride in him, over and over again, and tells them in her own gruff way that she is there for them before either of their parents.

It is not until Miko is old enough to be sort-of independent that the two boys are sent away to a boarding school outside the city their parents house is in. Tamie tells them it is an international school, and that it is for the best. Their parents say it is in their own best interests to go without complaint, and Juuki doesn’t complain, because he knows by now that having an armoury as an accepted norm in his childhood is not a good thing, and he’d rather Miko escape it. Miko doesn’t complain because he takes too many cues from Juuki, and doesn’t feel enough attachment to either of his parents to protest. It’s not that they’re negligent (though they are) or distant, exactly; it’s just that Juuki is a better caregiver than them, and his brother is only three years older.

Juuki takes to math and socialising with absolutely anyone who will talk to him. He finds it impossible to be consistent: to his desk partner in math, he is intelligent and quick-witted, to the girl who sits with him at lunch, he is quiet and sarcastic. There are more personalities that he tries on the same way others try on clothes, and the only one that sticks is the caring older brother.

Miko takes to school in general, but he does not get flawless grades. He averages B’s and C’s and to Juuki he seems quietly content, though he worries that his little brother is having trouble interacting with other people. It’s not a baseless concern, it’s a fair one: Miko did not know other people when they lived in their parents house, and was always content to depend on Juuki for whatever company he wanted. That continues as months turn into years at the international school, and for all Juuki wishes Miko would learn to do more, he seems perfectly satisfied with offering shy smiles to whoever Juuki forces him to hang around with.

Juuki resolves to do something to help Miko, because this can’t be healthy – except before anything can change, Tamie appears to pick them up from school. She does not explain to the headmaster or teachers or to Miko and Juuki, instead bundling them into her car. It’s black and inconspicuous. Juuki finds a pistol in the glovebox when he reaches for the gum she used to keep there, and stares at her with wide eyes, weapon limp in his hands. “Auntie?”

“I have some bad news,” she says as lightly as she can.

From the backseat, Miko clears his throat. “Did our parents get executed for betraying Yakuza?”

Juuki whips around to stare at his little brother, wide eyed. He knows his parents aren’t the best people, aren’t necessarily nice, but they aren’t abusive. But Miko sounds so certain, so matter of fact, that he’s inclined to believe it. After all, Miko is the observant one. He’s the one who would know.

Tamie’s hands are white where they grip the steering wheel, and she directs Juuki to dig through the glovebox to find the papers she actually meant for him to find. There is a passport there for each of them, and plane tickets. They are Japanese passports, which makes sense, considering they are Japanese – but the names are written in English characters, not Kanji or Hiragana or Katakana. Juuki squints at it, interpreting the Romanized characters only thanks to the past few years of English classes. “Lucas?” he asks slowly, reading the name from alongside his own face. “And – Michael?”

“Your idiot parents,” Tamie starts. She pauses to clear her throat. “Your brother is correct. Your parents are – were – Yakuza, and they made mistakes. Their superiors found out.” She softens her voice to say, “I’m sorry, Juuki, but your parents are dead.”

He stops for a moment then, processing. “But then – what? I want to see them.”

“No, you don’t,” Miko says quietly. Still in the backseat, he does not move. “It’ll be better if you remember them alive. Then you – we – get to pretend. Right?”

Tamie nods once, sharply – slowly. For all she isn’t really their aunt, at least not biologically, she does care for them. That is part of why she is here now. “I want you both to know that lying to you has been difficult.”

Miko swallows, Juuki rubs at his eyes. He doesn’t want to be sad that his parents are gone – they really, really haven’t ever been that great – but he can’t help it. They were more attentive with him than they were with Miko; that’s just a fact, a consequence of him being an only child for a few years. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Juuki asks. His voice has risen an octave.

And Tamie talks and talks and talks, explaining everything. How their parents are, were, high ranking Yakuza, high enough to be a problem, but not high enough to be on top. About how their home has been a base of operations for much longer than Juuki has been alive, that it has only been a permanent residence for just that long. How their parents are too proud to split custody, about how it took Tamie most of Miko’s life to convince them that it would be best to send them to an international school to learn, to pick up skills and contacts that would make them useful to them in the long run. And she talks about how her name really is Tamie, and no, she isn’t really related to them. She is Japanese-Filipino, which explains why Juuki always believed that she wasn’t their biological aunt, and she was chosen to be one of three undercover Interpol agents infiltrating the Yakuza. It just so happened that Tamie’s in was their parents. She explains in great detail how she has never precisely cared for their parents except in the way you might care for a distant cousin, but that she has always loved Juuki, and always loved Miko, as long as they’ve been alive. This has been her mission for as long as Juuki has been alive, if not a little longer – she is vague on the details – but when the higherups got word that there was a leak within the Yakuza, and investigated enough to pick up the one that existed between Tamie and their parents, well – she is absolutely certain that twisting the arm of her handler until she had a way out of the country for the boys she loves like her own is the right thing to do. And that’s why she did it.

“So,” she finishes awkwardly, “I, um. If you want, they’ve agreed to let me have sole custody of the two of you. But we cannot stay here, or anywhere in Japan – there is too much risk that the Yakuza will track you. Which is why your passports have American names on them.” She pauses and bites her lip, and it’s such an unusual show of uncertainty on her that Juuki almost smiles. “You wouldn’t be able to be Miko and Juuki any more, except when you are absolutely certain you’re in private. And I can’t guarantee your safety forever, but I know – I will do everything in my power to give you normal lives. As much as can be expected.”

Juuki – Lucas, now, he supposes – listens, and he wonders if it would be cruel to point out that she has not given them much of a choice. It is no choice, really, when their options are either to reject her and end up alone in a foreign country where Miko – Michael – does not speak the language, and Lucas can barely read it – or they can accept her offer, and get something like a trusted relative out of this.

It’s no offer at all, really.

“We want whatever you can provide,” Miko says – Michael says. Lucas pinches himself. Michael, Michael, Michael.

He resolves then that he will do anything to keep his little brother out of trouble, no matter what level of his own integrity it challenges. He can do this one thing for him, be there for him in a way their parents never were.

It’s the least he could do, really – or at least as he sees it.

#headcanon #hc #hc. michael #hc. lucas #kristie's writing #kwriting #kwrites #kristie writes #ft. lucas #ft. michael #ft. tamie

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