#i simply have a Thought about last nights episode and i am once again spiralling | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

butlerbarb · 4 years

Text

Comfort (Leviathan x Reader)

i should start by saying sorry for just disappearing out of nowhere. i think i just had too much on my plate and burnt myself out. which then caused me to spiral into a depressive episode and lose all motivation to work on something.

with that being said, i wanted to write something about how i've been feeling as a way to vent it. i also wanted it to be comfy and nice and i really just wanted leviathan to hug me and tell me everything is okay :) i hope you enjoy this very soft and self indulgent fic bc i love leviathan more than anything

also! i am working on requests, so expect those out within the next few days or so!

ily <3

It had been one of those days. Well, really it had been one of those weeks. Those days where you just didn’t want to leave your bed, more comfortable to hide away by yourself as to not bother anyone with how out of it you were feeling. Of course, Lucifer would probably have your head if he found out you were skipping classes, so you went about your days pretending you were fine.

Leviathan had invited you to his room after school, you hadn’t been able to focus on what he was telling you at breakfast – your mind too fuzzy from having just woken up combined with the fuzziness your off mood had brought on. But knowing the otaku demon, it was either anime or a new video game he bought. His enthusiasm and passion for his interests was something that never failed to bring a smile to your face, even when you were feeling down.

Your day at school, thankfully, passed by in a blur. Mammon made a point of bragging about his latest modeling job he scored as he walked you home, trying to convince you to go with him. Naturally, he pouted like a child when you turned him down, whining that you were missing the opportunity of a lifetime! Thankfully he gave up when you told him you just weren’t feeling it, but you would be happy to take him up on the offer another time. He dropped you off at home after that, telling you he’d bring you something on his way back.

You were barely in the door when Leviathan was charging at you from the common room, rushing you into kicking off your schools before he dragged you up to his room. You tried to argue that you still had your RAD uniform on and that he should at least give you a minute to change, but he was hearing none of it. He waited all day for you to get home, he wasn’t going to wait another minute! However, that excuse fell apart quickly when you gave him a set of puppy dog eyes, letting you hurry off to your room on a time limit.

You changed into more comfortable clothes quickly, using up only 3 minutes of the 5-minute limit he gave you. You were back in his room just as he had finished setting everything up. You took note of the snacks that he had set up in different bowls around his room. Wow, you thought, this must be really important. Leviathan usually never went all out like this unless it was mega important.

“What’s all this for, Levi? Seems like a lot for just a few episodes.” You commented, grabbing a handful of chips out of a bowl as you sat down on the edge of the bed. You cringed at how spicy it was, some of the flavors were intense in the Devildom. Leviathan’s eyes widened as he gave you an incredulous look.

“A few episodes!? No, no, no. We’re watching the entire series tonight.” The demon explained as he removed a disk from its packaging and slipped it inside his PC. “This series, 10 Things I’ve Always Wondered About the Demon King: Facts versus Fiction! has been teased for years! YEARS! And they finally released it all at once on DVD. People have been speculating about it for so long and AH! I CAN’T WAIT TO WATCH IT!”

You laughed at his energy, simply nodding as you reclined on his bed. He dove into bed next to you once the opening began playing, delight blooming on his face immediately. You let your head rest on Leviathan’s lower legs, expecting him to jump and practically kick you away, but to your surprise he didn’t even seem to notice. The show had barely started, and he was already lost in it.

It had been a few hours and you were only a few episodes deep. Levi had told you it had multiple seasons with at least 12 episodes each, so you really were going to be there for the night. It had been enjoyable at first, but after a while of mindlessly staring at the screen and reading subtitles, you slowly lost a majority of your interest. Leviathan still seemed fully absorbed, however. You breathed a sigh, stretching your arms above your head. You pulled your legs up onto the bed, crossing them underneath you, resting elbow on your knee, and your chin on the palm of your hand.

You let your eyes wander around the room, head filled with the same fuzziness as this morning. While you enjoyed the anime, and spending time with Leviathan, you knew it would have only been a matter of time before you were back to feeling the same way. You tried to act as normal as possible, not wanting to worry Levi or worse, distract him from the series he had been looking forward to.

You were surprised when the sound suddenly stopped, and you tore your gaze away from on of the anime figures your eyes had been locked on for longer than necessary. Glancing at the screen and then behind you to Leviathan, you raised and eyebrow at the worried look on his face.

“Are you okay?” The blue-haired demon asked, sitting up from his reclined positions to mimic your crossed legs.

“What do you mean? I’m fine.” You replied, giving him a smile, resting your hand on his knee. Leviathan’s eyes narrowed as he shook his head at you.

“You’re not fine! You seemed distracted this morning and it’s the same now. You know you can tell me if something is wrong.”

“Leviathan, I- “

“No excuses! I don’t… I don’t like seeing you upset like this…” He cut you off before you could say anything, mumbling the last part of his sentence as his cheeks flushed a dark red colour. You felt your eyes blow wide as the normally shy demon reached forward, grabbing your free hand as well as the one you had previously rested on his knee.

“Leviathan…” You frowned, watching tears prick the corners of his eyes. Wow, he was really upset about this, huh? You let out a sigh, deciding that if you were going to tell anyone, it might as well be the one who was about to cry out of worry.

“I don’t know, Levi. I’ve just been feeling… off. For the past week. I can’t really describe it. Just sad.” You admitted quietly, your eyes locking onto your joined hands. The silence was unnerving as Leviathan processed your words and suddenly you were extremely uncomfortable.

“Like… depressed?” You nodded in response to his question, eyes briefly flicking up to gauge his expression. He seemed indifferent yet stared at you intently. Your eyes widened as he let go of your hands and threw his arms around you, pulling you into a hug.

“Levi, what…”

“I just! I just want you to know that… You’re not alone and that I… I care about you…” He whispered, burying his face into your hair as he held you tightly. His sudden confession shocked you into silence, all you could do was wrap your own arms around his torso, trying your hardest not to cry. Although even your hardest attempt couldn’t change how overwhelmed you felt, and eventually you were bawling into his shirt, more than likely staining it with tears.

You sat there together for who knows how long, Leviathan happy to let you cry it all out until you felt better. You could have sworn you felt a tear or two hit the skin of your neck, and you fought back a laugh. Leviathan was such a sensitive demon, being brought to tears by the smallest things.

Eventually, your seemingly endless flow of tears came to a stop. You pulled away from him slightly, his arms still wrapped around you as you briefly used the sleeve of your shirt to dry any remaining tears. Levi slowly pulled away, hands resting on your shoulders as he shot you a concerned look. You laughed quietly, wiping at your nose as you sniffled. You smiled at him, nodding a little to let him know you were okay.

He went to pull back, hands slipping off of your shoulder when you stopped him. Placing both of your hands on his cheeks, watching in amusement as his cheeks gained a flushed colour once again. Pulling him closer by his cheeks, you pressed a small kiss to his forehead. You pulled back not a second later, beaming at him happily.

“Thank you, Leviathan.”

BONUS:

The door to Leviathan’s room burst open, scaring the life out of the both of you. Leviathan jumped back, pushing you away from him in surprise. You fell back onto the bed with a laugh, eye drifting over to the intruder.

“Oi! What’re you two doing? Why’re your eyes all red, human?” Mammon, being the ever loud and obnoxious demon that he was, yelled as he stepped into the room. His arms crossed over his chest as he gave Levi a displeased look.

“Are ya makin’ my human cry, Levi?” The older demon accused, pointing a finger at his younger brother. Leviathan rolled his eyes, completely ignoring the Avatar of Greed as he briefly adjusted his fringe.

“Aren’t you the one always making them cry, Mammon?” The Avatar of Envy answered, glaring at Mammon from underneath his now fixed fringe. Mammon gasped, throwing a hand over his chest in mock offence.

“How dare you! I only even make the human happy, ya know!”

“I don’t know about that, Mammon..” You teased lightly, snickering as his face contorted into genuine sadness as he frowned deeply. “I’m joking! Come here, we’re watching anime! We’ve still got tons of snacks!”

Mammon happily dove into the bed next to you, immediately trapping you next to him with one hand, while the other greedily dove into a snack bowl. Leviathan grumbled lowly, rolling his eyes again before shifting into a comfortable position on your opposite side.

You were glad you had such caring demons to help you out when you were at your lowest. You would never replace them for the world.

#obey me #obey me leviathan #obey me!#obey me x reader #leviathan x reader #if you enjoyed feel free to send a request!#i'll post something else from my ao3 in a little so this blog isnt entirely leviathan lmfao

335 notes · View notes

imzadi-caskett-huddy · 4 years

Text

House, M.D. Fanfic (8/?)

Thank you to everyone who has taken time to leave a note on my story. I hope you continue to enjoy my kind of rewrite and/or additions to certain episodes! As always, I don't own House. If I did, Lisa Edelstein would have gotten the respect she deserved contact wise for a season 8.

As stated in previous chapters, the story follows the big picture laid out on the show, but with my own take on things. This chapter starts with Cuddy's struggle to keep it a secret from House about his previous diagnosis being correct. I should say that I REALLY don't care much for early season 3 Wilson, and I'm going to do my best not to let that affect the storytelling. This chapter is longer... lots of story development to get through.

Thanks to @love-hope-faith-feels-like-a-lie on Tumblr for reading my ideas and providing positive feedback! Anything in the way of feedback is always appreciated! Enjoy!

xxxxx

She was definitely not comfortable lying to House about this. He deserved to know he was right. She didn't know why Wilson suddenly thought he needed to teach House a lesson on humility and make her a party to it. "I have to tell him. I see him every day. I..."

"Everybody lies."

Wilson's words echo through her head that night as her head lay on his shoulder, her fingers tracing lines across his chest. "You were right."

He turned his head slightly to see her better. "I'm right about a lot of things. You're going to have to be a little more specific."

She pushed up slightly on her elbow, the sheet sliding down her chest a bit. "Your patient. In the wheelchair," she started.

He smiled slowly. "You gave him the shot."

She sighed, dropping her head back to his shoulder. "I gave him the shot."

"Why?"

"Because I know you. Because you see things the rest of us don't see. Because as infuriating as it is, you're never wrong about the medicine."

He smiled smugly. "I was right."

"Yes," she sighed, rubbing her face. "You're always right. The man stood up from his wheelchair and hugged his son."

"You weren't going to tell me..."

She looked up at him then. "Wilson thought it was a bad idea..."

"Wilson would think this is a bad idea too. That mean you're going to stop sleeping with me to get pregnant?"

"No, of course not..."

"Then why are you suddenly listening to him?"

She was quiet a moment. "You like the high. The night you showed up outside my window with your diagnosis, you were higher than I've ever seen you on Vicodin. We just worry about you."

"And yet you told me anyway," he pointed out, shifting to get up and grab his boxer briefs. He needed to walk. He needed to think.

She made a grab for his shirt and slipped it on. There was an argument brewing. "You're an addict, House. You're always looking for a fix. If it's not Vicodin, it's a medical mystery that only you can solve. If you don't have the puzzle, you get your high in my bed. Its all just a fix for you."

"That's what you think this is? That's all you think you are? A fix because I don't use Vicodin anymore and you told me no at work?" He spun around to face her. The look in her eyes said it all... she did think that's all she was to him. "I'm going home," he started pulling on his clothes.

"House, that's not what I said..."

"You said enough. I got my 'fix.' Keep the shirt." He headed for the front door.

"House!" She called after him. But it was too late as she heard the front door slam. She sighed and for back into bed. She should have said something. She should have told him him she knew she wasn't just a fix...because she did know. This had been going on for months... it was way past just sleeping together to get a fix or to get pregnant.

Her hand moved over the place he'd occupied in her bed not even ten minutes before. How had this even spiraled out of control that quickly? Sliding closer to his pillow, she inhaled his scent. She could hear his bike engine revving as he tore down the street, and she knew sleep was not going to come easy now in her empty bed.

xxxxx

"How's the leg?" she asked cautiously as she opened his door. She wasn't going to push too much since they were at work, but she was trying to judge his mood. Especially since he hadn't bothered to tell her that his leg was starting to hurt again.

He looked up from his desk and saw her entering his office. "My leg is fine."

"You're limping. Cameron thinks it's because we lied to you. We both know that I already told you, so that's not it. Is it because we had a fight?"

"Your breasts are different," he studied her closely, completely ignoring her attempt to talk about him.

She continued unfazed. "Wilson thinks I haven't told you, and that I'm feeling guilty and want to coddle you."

He shook his head. "You're pregnant."

"I'm not pregnant. How badly does your leg hurt?"

"Your breasts are firmer. As someone who had intimate knowledge with the girls, I would know," he stated. "You're pregnant."

"It's called an underwire. Tell me about your damn leg." She was not going to let him deflect by turning the tables on her.

"My leg is fine."

"Let me do a scan on your brain. If the Ketamine is wearing off..."

"Let me do a pregnancy test." They each wanted to test the other. Fair was fair, after all.

"House, I'm not pregnant!" she dropped her voice at the end, not wanting that word to escape the walls of his office.

"You've been taking fertility drugs. You've been getting laid on a regular basis, without protection. Your breasts have enlarged. You're doing crazy things, because I can't think of any other reason why you would ever listen to Wilson about lying to me. You're pregnant."

"You're not always right, you know."

"Actually I am. You said so yourself. I'm never wrong about the medicine. But you and Wilson would just have me think I'm wrong. You'd rather have me doubt myself and lie to me about it than tell me the truth and prove I'm right," he said lowly, massaging his thigh.

"House, let me look at your leg."

"My leg is fine!" After a moment, he dropped his head slightly. "Don't you think if I thought the treatment wasn't working that I'd do something to try to fix it?"

She sighed softly. "If it gets worse, call me." She knew she wasn't getting anywhere with him then, so pushing further was futile. He was still pissed at her for not telling him he was right. She was pissed at herself for going against her better judgement on this and actually listening to Wilson.

xxxxx

He hated that he'd had to grab his cane. He hated that he had taken the pills. He hated that he was now standing on her front porch, leaning against his cane, knocking on her door.

"Tell me the truth. Are you pregnant?"

She wasn't surprised to see him, not really. Not after the way they left things. She was, however, surprised to see him with his cane. "Why do you keep insisting I'm pregnant?" She moved to let him in.

"Why do you keep insisting you're not?" He studied her. That had, afterall, been the purpose of them sleeping together to begin with. She had been very actively trying to get pregnant. So why was she now suddenly opposed to taking a pregnancy test to try to confirm it when he suspected it?

"You're walking with your cane. That means the Ketamine wore off." Now she was deflecting.

"Or it just means I need my next fix. That's what you and Wilson expect of me anyway, right? No puzzle to take my mind off it. Time to give sex a whirl."

She crossed her arms. "That's why you're here?"

"Why not? You have been so eager to welcome me into your bed. Figure I'll get high on endorphins from mind blowing sex and walk out of here without my cane," he said sarcastically. He caught the hurt look on her face at his comment and looked away.

"Call one of your hookers if you want mind blowing sex. I'm not in the mood," she turned to walk away.

"Hookers can do the distraction. They can't do the mind blowing sex. They don't do what you do..." He took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. He'd crossed a line with that last insult, and he knew it. He'd tried to hurt her with it... knew just what button to push to get the desired reaction. "I took the Vicodin. My leg hurts," he admitted quietly.

She took a step closer then, resting a hand on his arm. "We can figure something out."

He shook his head. "Nope. Tried Ketamine. It didn't work. House the cripple is back for good," he told her simply. He'd gotten a beautiful glimpse into a pain free life, had allowed himself to hope, only to have it yanked away. "Probably for the best. I do my best work this way. Less likely to screw up diagnosing patients when I'm in pain. More likely to be an insensitive ass, but less likely to miss something and screw up the medicine."

"House..."

"Are. You. Pregnant?" his voice low, his eyes dark as he closed down any chance of continuing to talk about himself.

"No," she pulled her hand away and crossed her arms once more.

"Take a test?"

"No. It's not time y..."

"Then how do you know?" He interrupted her, moving closer.

"It's too early to..."

"Better to have another go then. Just to make sure it takes," he murmured lowly, pulling her against him in a kiss then. He was ready to lose himself in her and the way she could make him forget everything else.

At first she was going to push him away, but after a moment, her body melted against his, not bothering to stop him as he pushed her shirt up and over her head. He was in pain. He needed the distraction. Maybe she did too. Maybe she needed the high of sex with him even more than he did. Biting his lower lip as she deepened the kiss, she shoved him back against the wall hard.

He growled when his back hit the wall, his eyes darkening with lust, fingers digging into her skin as he pulled her roughly against him. His mouth moved to her neck, biting her pulse point hard and causing her to hiss, before soothing the spot with his tongue. She'd have to cover that with makeup tomorrow.

Her hands started pulling at his clothes as they worked their way to her bedroom. He closed the door with her body, pushing her back against it as his hands slid to her thighs and lifted her up, using the door to support the added weight so it didn't mess with his leg.

xxxxx

They finally both fell into her bed, breathless and in better moods. "Does that count as makeup sex? Or is that still angry sex?" He asked a moment later.

She lifted her head and couldn't help but smile slightly. "Shut up, House."

"I just need to know if I'm going to be expected to go another round for makeup sex, or if that was already covered..."

She grabbed her pillow from where it had landed on the floor earlier and smacked him lightly with it before shifting to get more comfortable in bed. "Shut up, House." But she did giggle softly to take the bite out of her words. She wasn't mad anymore. He didn't seem to be either. "Go to sleep."

#house #house m.d.#house md #house fanfic #house x cuddy #greg house #lisa cuddy #huddy

6 notes · View notes

samaraclegane · 5 years

Note

Hey!! Could you write this prompt ? Gendry asks Arya to marry him but she refuses. After confiding to someone about the situation because she's frustrated and worried her answer will change things between them, she asks him why he wants to marry her. Knowing he doesn't want to change who she is, she ends up accepting because of what it means to him.

author's note: oh boy after that last episode reading this was... hope-inspiring. thanks for the prompt, anon! here's the work based off of it. hope it's good enough :)

-she wants to shoot herself with an arrow. she'd been purposefully avoiding the feast because she had a gut feeling about it, and she'd learned to trust her gut.

-it had matured when she'd seen her father die. since then, there was just times she couldn't explain where she'd know she shouldn't be somewhere or shouldn't speak to someone, and she heeded her own body's advice.

-she had presumed it was because they would celebrate her and, being introverted she was, she disliked such attention. she had thought the feeling was simply to avoid the crowd, but apparently she'd been wrong.

-this, she thought, seemed more likely.

-Gendry had found her somehow, despite her best attempts to stay concealed from everybody, and then - after few exchanged words - he'd gone and done it.

-of course Arya was happy for him. Lord of Storm's End? she knew he must have been overjoyed. she knew how much he loathed being a bastard - King Robert's bastard nonetheless, meaning he had a taste of the forbidden fruit but would always be denied it, time and time again.

-this time, though, it was different. he'd come to her with a beaming grin, told her that the Queen had legitimised him, and that he was now officially a lord. Arya supposed she should have seen it coming, and resigned that perhaps some part of her did.

-when the words had tumbled loosely out of his mouth, cascading over his lips, she went deaf. how was she meant to respond?

-she had tried to let him down gently. she kissed him, and told him her answer. while, true, she didn't exactly say "I'm not in love with you and I'd never marry you", the hurt on his face told her she might as well have.

-she soon excused herself, leaving him behind. she pretended she didn't feel how his eyes followed her all the way out, and she'd have liked to say that as soon as she was out of his sight and was sure he wasn't following, she didn't she'd a tear. this was false.

-she followed her instincts to wherever they were taking her, stuck in her head the whole time. it wasn't as though marrying Gendry would be the worst thing in the world - far from it, actually, because she's seen a lot worse than that - but something about how he had phrased it knocked her sick.

-now that the war was won, now that the dead had taken care of her list, was she supposed to settle down? was it her duty as a woman to wed, to move to Storm's End or wherever her lord lived, and to have his children?

-was it her duty now to risk her life for theirs? was she now expected to be her mother who, though she loved her dearly, rarely had anything of her own, not even her own name? Arya couldn't even imagine.

-once her thoughts began to trail off, she found herself outside of her sister's quarters. it was dark, and though she knew Sansa was currently at the feast, she expected her back within the next hour or so. she could wait that long inside.

-sure enough, about twenty minutes later, her sister came through the door, not jumping when she saw Arya sat on her bed. she acknowledged the situation, analysed it, then opted to address it.

-"what's happened?"

-Arya's words got caught in her throat at first, because what was there to say? could she apologise for breaking into Sansa's room whilst she was dining alongside her people? then again, she hadn't been commanded to ask for forgiveness, so she felt justified in her actions.

-"it's Gendry," Arya assumed Sansa knew his name, and she knew she had presumed correctly as her sister nodded, signalling her to continue, "he's asked me to marry him."

-Sansa's face lit up in a way Arya doesn't think she's seen since they were children. "Arya, that's wonderful."

-"no," she shook her head and spoke sternly, watching her sister with concerned eyes, "it isn't."

-"it isn't?" Sansa furrowed her brow, "why not?"

-"because he asked me to be his lady."

-"well, yes," Sansa chuckled, moving to sit beside her sister, "that is what lords do when they propose."

-"no, I mean-" Arya felt completely incapable of expressing herself, and suddenly had the overwhelming urge to cry. "I mean his lady. I don't want to be his lady. I don't want to sit around knitting all day, bearing and birthing his children. I want to be me."

-"do you think he'd disallow you to be you?" Sansa quipped, and this only made Arya's mind spiral.

-"I... don't know." Arya thought some more, then shook her head, more sure of herself this time, "no, he wouldn't. he likes me for me, just the way I am."

-"'likes'?" Sansa smirked at her knowingly.

-Arya rolled her eyes and felt a blush creep over her. "okay, loves. fine. he said he loves me."

-Sansa's ever-steeled face softened. her lips parted for a second, then she spoke to Arya as though she were a child once more.

-"you remember Visenya Targaryen?" she asked, and Arya nodded stupidly. it really was an obvious question. "she was married, but she was a warrior also. she rode dragons. she did amazing things, whilst also being a wife."

-Arya scoffed, "she married her brother."

-"yes, well, ignore that bit." Sansa's voice was both sincere and humorous. "what I mean is, if you think Gendry is the right one, he won't take your identity. you can still marry him and remain Arya Stark, if that's what you want. you never know, it might be the message behind it all that means the world to him."

-Arya had no further line of questioning. she quietly excused herself, uttered a quick thank you to her sister, then bid her a good night. she exited the room, closing the door securely behind her, and began walking again.

-she wasn't sure if her intention was to go to her own room or to seek out Gendry again, but it didn't matter either way. apparently, the gods had their tricks, and so around the first corner she turned there stood the blacksmith, looking haunted.

-"Arya," he saw her instantly, and said her name so quickly she almost didn't hear it, "listen, I'm sorry about what I said. you're right, that isn't you, and I don't know why I even brought it up, but if you think I'm ever going to find another girl to marry, you're gravely mistaken, because there's no other girls like you - you're the only one that I want."

-she let him finish and stared up at him the whole time with the gooiest, most sickeningly sweet smile she'd ever worn. once he was finished, breathing heavily at presumably having been rushing around in search for her, she took a step forward and cupped his jawline with both of her hands. he looked down at her, pleased but confused.

-"Gendry," she took a moment to watch him closely, studying the beautiful, hard features of his face, then finished, "let's get married."

-he scrunched his face up, looking hesitant, because could it really be that easy? after the seconds it had taken him to decide he wanted to marry her after having been legitimised, after the losses and triumphs of the war, to the horrified look on her face when he had asked her to marry him initially... was this it, or was this all just a terrible joke?

-he began laughing when he saw how serious Arya was. he couldn't stop himself, and the beaming grin that warmed Arya from sight alone lit up the entire room. he nodded rather violently, so that Arya was concerned his neck just might break, and wrapped arms around her waist.

-"I- yes," he settled for, repeating "yes, yes, yes."

-she too began beaming when he lifted her up to kiss her, then spun her around and put her back onto the floor, right back onto her feet. now that was a good sign.

-"oh, but-" she interrupted his kiss when he dipped his head to hers, putting a finger between their lips and making him look into her eyes, the angle of which made her feel funny. "I'm not wearing any pretty little dressed, and I'm keeping my name."

-"whatever you say, m'lady," he uttered, breath washing over her skin, and then bent down to kiss her, like a proper lord would a lady.

214 notes · View notes

trinuviel · 5 years

Text

The Spiral, the Storm and the Wheel

THE SPIRAL

The White Walkers are in many respects a mysterious and somewhat frustrating enemy in Game of Thrones. They never speak but they do have some form of intellect since they create grisly patterns out of severed body parts: 1) a bisected circle and 2) a spiral. Both symbols originated with the creators of the WW, the Children of the Forest - and the spiral in particular is associated with the creation of the Night King since the tree where he was created was surrounded by a spiral created out of standing stones.

It is still unclear what the spiral signified for the Children of the Forest - but in an interview in The New York Post, Dave Hill, one of the writers on the show, explains that the Night King has adopted the symbol as a way to mock his creators:

The question is: has the meaning changed through this appropriation? That is at present not possible to answer since we have no idea what the symbol originally meant to the Children of the Forest. However, I do think that we can attempt to figure out what the Night King means when his people re-create the spiral through dismembered human and animal bodies. Because these spirals are a message, in a sense, and he’s saying “I am coming for you” while at the same time making a mockery of something that was sacred to his creators.

This spiral looks a lot like a wheel without a rim, endlessly spinning around and around. This is rather interesting since Daenerys Targaryen repeatedly talks about “breaking the wheel” in relation to her political ambition of conquering Westeros (I’ll return to this subject later). If the spiral is a spinning wheel, then what does it mean? The image of poor little Ned Umber at the center of a spiral made of severed human limbs in the first episode of season 8 inspired Professor Tyler Dean to write a very interesting opinion piece on the website of the publishing house Tor, which specializes in science fiction and fantasy:

The Mexica believed that time was a spiral. Not a circle, where everything that happened previously was destined to happen again, identical, ad inifinitum. Not linear, where the way forward was uncharted and momentum, progress, and change ruled the day. But, as author/illustrator James Gurney once pointed out to my eight-year-old brain, a combination of the two: a spiral. The forces of history push us ever forwards, but events rhyme with one another—parallel but not identical. That was what I couldn’t get out of my head after watching “Winterfell,” the final season premiere of Game of Thrones.

...

Spiral time is uncanny. We are reminded of familiar events and sequences but they are spiked with the creeping dread that they are not quite what we think or expect them to be.

...

We might be tempted to think of spirals as orderly and predictable, but “Winterfell” reinforces the idea that time in Westeros is not organized in a tightly-bound pattern but a widening gyre: each revolution around the center may echo previous events, but it brings its own entropy and decay. (Tor.com)

This idea of time as a spiral is a very interesting one but what I find especially compelling is this notion of the spiral being connected to an idea of entropy and decay. Tyler goes on to quote The Second Coming, a famous poem by W.B. Yeats:

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned

THE STORM

The notion of decay in relation to the spiral set off various chains of association for me - about how the Night King and the White Walkers are an inhuman and unrelenting force of destruction, in that sense that they come close to be the magical equivalent to a destructive force of nature. The NK is even described as such by Jon Snow who says that he is the Storm. That made me connect the spiral with images of storm systems as they look from space.

On the right we have a picture of a spiral that the WW made from dismembered horses after they defeated the Night’s Watch at The Fist of the First Men in season 2. The picture to the left is a satellite image of a hurricane. The visual resemblance is very close indeed.

In the first episode of season 8, the spiral was reintroduced when Tormund, Beric and the remainder of the Night’s Watch come upon what remains of the Umber seat, The Last Hearth, after it has been run over by the WW.

When it turns out that poor little Ned Umber has become a zombie, Tormund and friends set fire to him and the body parts that make up the spiral. This is the first time that we’ve seen the spiral associated with the element of fire. This has led people to note a certain resemblance between the spiral and the style in which the Targaryen sigil is rendered.

There is indeed a bit of a likeness - and it is worth noting that the Targaryen sigil and the spirals that the WW each have seven arms.

(source)

Is this resemblance merely a coincidence or is there a deeper meaning at work? It is hard to tell but I want to explore this connection a bit further because the sole known Targaryen of this story is, in fact, also visually connected to the spiral symbol. In season 4, Daenerys Targaryen wears a dress made from laser-cut fabric that sports a repeated spiral pattern.

She is also known as the Stormborn because she came into the world during the worst storm that Westeros had seen in living memory. She is also a very war-like character and it is worth remembering that in the books “storm” is often used as a synonym for for “war”. With a bit of squinting one can even perceive s spiral shape hidden in one of the final images of the season 3 finale where Daenerys is lifted up by the freed slaves of Meereen.

It is faint but you could make an argument that it is there. This connection between Daenerys and the Night King is enhanced by the larger thematic framework of GRRM’s story. They are both associated with the extremes of Ice and Fire - indeed, just like the dragons are Fire Made Flesh, so are the White Walkers Ice made Flesh, which I have examined elsewhere.

THE WHEEL

The spiral also somewhat resembles a wheel, as I’ve previously mentioned. I’m not the only person who has noted this resemblance, @lady-griffin mentions this resemblance in this post. In the later seasons, Daenerys Targaryen has become known for wanting to “break the wheel” - but what does that mean?

In season 5 she tells Tyrion Lannister that she’ll have the support of the common people in Westeros and she describes the feudal system as a wheel with spokes made up of the noble Houses. In this context, it seems as though she wants to destroy the feudal system of the country she wants to conquer. However, as she herself mentions, her own House is part of this system and she’s not intending to create a radically new system since she still wants to be Queen. She still wants to occupy the hub of the wheel, i.e. the Iron Throne. She simply wants to remove anyone who can be a threat to her power. What she wants is not a more democratic system but an absolute monarchy with her at the top.

Nebulous and contradictory plans is very typical of Dany’s political rhetoric but I’m rather interested in how she describes this system:

“Lannister, Targaryen, Baratheon, Stark, Tyrell. They’re all just spokes on a wheel. This one’s on top, then that one’s on top. And on and on it spins, crushing those on the ground.”

This conjures a specific concept of Classical (and later Medieval) thought: the Rota Fortuna, or Fortune’s Wheel:

In medieval and ancient philosophy the Wheel of Fortune, or Rota Fortunae, is a symbol of the capricious nature of Fate. The wheel belongs to the goddess Fortuna (Greek equivalent Tyche) who spins it at random, changing the positions of those on the wheel: some suffer great misfortune, others gain windfalls. Fortune appears on all paintings as a woman, sometimes blindfolded, "puppeteering" a wheel. (Wikipedia)

Interestingly, the show invokes Fortune’s Wheel visually in the opening credits. Thus, the Rota Fortuna embodies the political game that dominates the show. Fortune’s Wheel is the very embodiment of the Game of Thrones!

The thing about Fortune’s Wheel is that it never stops spinning. The same goes for the political game - there will always be someone who seeks power, regardless of whether there is a throne or not. The games of power and influence exist wherever human society exist regardless of what kind of government they have - there will always be politics and power plays. The only way to truly stop the spinning of the wheel is to eradicate humankind. There can be no game if there are no players.

This leads me back to the what the spiral may have meant for the Children of the Forest. The NK has adopted this symbol as an act of mockery - it signifies blasphemy on his part according to show writer Dave Hill. In this context, it is important to note that the WW always create this spiral symbol out of dismembered bodies - it is made of dead things and, in a way, the spiral as it is made by the WW symbolizes Death. If the WW’s spiral is an image of Death and it represents an act of blasphemy on the part of the NK, then it is very possible that the spiral signified Life for the CotF - symbolizing that Life spins ever onward through nature.

They created the NK by killing and magically re-animating a human man. The original blasphemy was theirs - and there’s a certain symmetry to the fact that the weapon they created by polluting their own magic turned against them. On a final note I also wish to point out that the Weirwood tree where the CotF created the NK is now dead!

This is actually a very important detail because in ASoIaF lore, weirwood trees are practically immortal. They don’t wither and die - unless they are interfered with.

#game of thrones #spiral #symbols #the night king #the children of the forest #the white walkers #daenerys targaryen

179 notes · View notes

sam-i-am-27 · 6 years

Text

Dive Right In

(Previous) (Next)

Word Count: 2182

Summary: Virgil never suspected that anything was different about him, his town or his family. However, just like in most stories, that all changes when he meets someone who proves him wrong.

“You were almost late again,” Logan said, waiting outside of their biology lecture hall as Virgil came jogging up the hallway, accidentally knocking into some of the other students waiting to go into their class. He ignored their annoyed grumbles and tried to keep his attention on his own problems rather than what they thought of him.

“I know, I know,” Virgil said, adjusting his messenger bag. “My dad didn’t come home last night so I was just, you know, waiting… on the water… with water, don’t worry.”

Logan pursed his lips and nodded. “You know he’ll come back, Virgil. He’s almost a day late anytime he has to go out, so I don’t know why you worry so much.”

“He’s my dad, Lo,” Virgil replied, sitting down at their seats near the back of the hall. “I worry about him for the same reason that I worry about you: you guys are the only family I have.”

Logan visibly didn’t react but Virgil knew he was feeling something behind those stone-cold eyes. “Well in that case, if he’s not back by tonight, call me and I’ll come over with some leftovers. My mother made meatloaf last night so I’m sure she won’t mind me bringing some for you.”

“Thanks L-”

“Did I just hear that your house will be empty tonight?” Virgil turned around to see his classmate, Remy, leaning over and listening in on their supposedly private conversation. As usual, he was holding one of his seemingly unlimited supply of Starbucks drinks and his sunglasses that hid his somehow-golden eyes were beginning to slide down his nose again.

“No, you didn’t, Remy,” Logan said irritably, pushing his own glasses up his nose as if to set an example. “You simply heard what you wanted to hear as you eavesdropped yet again.”

“It’s not eavesdropping if there’s no teacher or other friends to listen to,” Remy said, taking the hint and hiding his eyes behind the lenses. “So your house is going to be empty? No parents, no supervision but Mr. IQ over here?” Remy cocked an eyebrow at Virgil. “Want me to bring some weed? Some booze? Girls or boys? Whichever and whoever you prefer?”

“There is not going to be a party at my house, Remy,” he said firmly. “There is going to be supervision; my dad is going to be coming back in a few hours so if you even think of bringing even a drop of booze near my house, he’ll make sure you and anyone you bring stay away for the rest of your time in this town.”

Remy smirked. “Whatever man. You’re missing out on a seaside party, especially one where I’m the one running the show.” He turned his attention to the front of the class as the teacher walked in and started writing instructions on the board. Virgil glanced down at his phone, hoping that his promise to Remy didn’t become a bluff by the end of the day.

But there was no sign from him by the end of the first period. Nor the end of the second. Virgil could hardly concentrate on what his teachers were saying. He just barely picked up on due dates, homework. Hell, even the notes he involuntarily took throughout the lesson didn’t make sense to him when he read them over during his free-time.

“He’s fine, Virgil. As I keep saying today and every day he’s late from an expedition, he found something that made him stay out longer than anticipated,” Logan commented as Virgil checked his phone for the tenth time in five minutes.

During third period, psychology, Virgil figured that if they were learning anything about emotions or how the human mind became distracted easily, it would have been the biggest irony in history. Alas, they were learning about decision making and Virgil’s closest thing to a friend in that class, Emile Piccani, was deep in thought about what their teacher was scribbling across the board.

“Virgil, this is amazing!” he said as he drew an arrow between a new definition to a doodle of what looked like the scene from ‘I Am My Mom’ where Steven had to turn himself over to save his friends. “I could use this in everyday life, not just in therapy! Aren’t you glad you took this class?!”

“Sure, Emile,” he murmured, lazily copying down whatever the teacher had written. Emile kept muttering things like ‘I love this class’ and ‘Ooh, I gotta compare this to those new episodes later’, but Virgil was more distracted by the sudden light coming from his phone. He snatched it up and stared intently at the screen, his heart pounding.

Sorry I’m home later than I said I would be. I got a little turned around. Home right now and currently making pork chops.

His heart leapt and he let out a sigh of relief, setting down his phone and slumping back in his seat. Not only was his father home safe and sound, he was making Virgil’s favorite dinner as an apology. Maybe he could forgive him this time… just as he did all the times before.

“Was he out late again?” Emile whispered, glancing over Virgil’s phone. Virgil tensed up at the sudden closeness but despite Emile being the top student in this psychology class, he didn’t see the physical sign of discomfort and kept close to Virgil’s face.

“Yes, Emile, and while I thank you for your concern, two things: one, personal space, please.“ Emile scooted back until Virgil gave a satisfactory nod. “And two, please don’t read my text messages over my shoulder.”

“Sorry, I’ll keep that in mind,” Emile replied, giving a soft smile. “Any idea as to how he got turned around? I mean, he has more than a few degrees in marine biology and over a decade of sailing. He went just over two dozen miles off the coast; even an ameteur could naviagte back from there.”

“None, but I guess I’ll find out when I get home,” Virgil said, shutting off his phone and finally able to turn every bit of his energy towards learning again. The rest of the day seemed to pass in a slow blur. It wasn’t fast but it definitely felt as if the world wanted to keep him in that hell-hole for as long as possible. Even lunch - with the constant movement and talk as he tried to make his way to his normal patch of grass with Logan (and occasionally Remy or Emile for reasons both beyond his control and explanation) - seemed to take days to live through.

Finally, the bell rang and he sped towards his car.

“If you need me, just call me, okay?” Logan called as they crossed paths. Virgil gave him a thumbs up, clambered into his car and drove off.

Roman and Patton slowed down as they reached one of the many entrance to their kingdom; nothing inconspicuous, a hole in the coral just big enough to only allow creatures their size in. The surrounding coral reef hid this entrance well enough so one could only find it if they really looked. Patton slowed down and raised his arms for Roman.

“You first,” he said to which Roman chuckled and bowed.

“Thank you very much, sir Patton.” Roman swam into the hole and Patton soon followed once only the tip of his red fin was visible. With a flick of his tail, he swept in after Roman, leaving the beautiful coral reef behind in exchange for darkness.

“I always hate this part,” Patton muttered, his voice echoing around them. He took a deep breath, focusing on the feeling of water passing through his gills rather than the crushing darkness around him.

“Patton, if anything attacks, I’ll protect you, don’t worry,” Roman called back. “Has anything bad ever happened while anyone has been traveling through here?”

“No…” Patton whined, keeping his eyes focused on what he thought was towards the kingdom. They swam in silence for a few more seconds before passing through what felt like a wall of ice cold squid ink. Patton shivered and pushed forward, finally passing through the darkness and emerging on the outskirts of the kingdom, lit by a mix of natural sunlight a large glowing orbs that bobbed in place no matter how many fish were silly enough to try and go through them.

Here, there wasn’t much to see; a few small stone houses and a couple schools of fish flitting back and forth between them. But as the two mers grew closer to the center of the kingdom, the houses became bigger, closer together, and more elaborate, the material used to build them going from stone to coral to polished shell. The mer population began to grow visible, tails of all shapes, sizes and colors; a rainbow of frills and fins.

Patton waved to a group of his friends currently buying some snacks from a vendor. When they waved him over, he smiled sadly and pointed to Roman, mouthing ‘King business’. They shrugged and turned back to their order.

“Why don’t you join them?” Roman asked, bumping against his shoulder lightly. “You always make a point of saying that I need to make friends.”

“I know, but we need to get back to Thomas to make sure that there’s nothing that there’s no reports or assignments,” Patton said, keeping his smile, no matter how sad it may have looked. Roman sighed and kept swimming towards the very center of the kingdom.

Nearest to the center, the houses suddenly stopped, giving way for a castle large enough for at least half the mer population in this cavern alone. Sometimes Patton didn’t understand why Thomas needed so much room for himself, his staff, and his lead advisors; there were only like one hundred of them compared to the thousands out there.

Either way, the castle was a sight to see. Ebony walls inlaid with only the best and most beautiful stones and shells. Spiraling pillars made of polished pearl guarded by mers wearing and wielding steel weapons. The entire thing seemed to let out a silver glow that made Patton feel warm and fuzzy inside. He had lived in this glow his entire life and basking in it always meant he was home.

“Roman,” the guard at the front gates said as they drifted towards him. “Shouldn’t you be in a cave somewhere? Far away from here maybe?”

“Hello to you too, father,” Roman muttered. “What do you mean?”

“It’s a full moon, tonight, Roman,” Roman’s father said, his grey tail flicking slightly. “Now, I’m no expert, but the full moon is when Sirens are supposed to be singing their shallow hearts out, luring in every living thing that hears their false promise of happiness? Or are you the only exception?”

Roman’s lip twitched upwards and his fist tightened into a fist. Patton hit his own tail fin against Roman’s and grabbed his wrist firmly, rubbing it lightly until Roman’s fist unclenched. Even than, Patton kept his grip relatively tight.

“Yes, father, I am supposed to be out of the kingdom before the moon rises tonight. I simply need to see if there are any reports from the King and after that, I will be out of what little hair you have left and you get yet another night without me. What’s that make? Over six hundred, I’m sure,” Roman replied tightly.

Roman’s father sneered and drifted to the side. “Just go to his royal highness and leave before you pose a threat to anyone else.”

Without another word, Roman swam past his father and into the castle, pulling Patton with him.

“The nerve of that man,” Patton muttered under his breath, letting go of Roman and swimming to catch up with Roman’s powerful tail strokes. “Roman, I suggest we stop for a second so you can calm down. You don’t want to go up to Thomas like this. It’s both disrespectful and something that will get him worried about you.”

Roman didn’t answer but did slow down and begin to take deep breaths. The gills on the side of his neck were flaring with anger and the attempt to breath normally. Patton didn’t say a word, just rubbed Roman’s wrist slowly.

“I hate him,” Roman finally muttered. “Sirens haven’t taken lives intentionally in hundreds of years…”

“I know, I know. But on the human land, racial differences were supposed to have been abolished hundreds of years ago and yet other things I’ve found say otherwise. Some things can’t or won’t change,” Patton said softly. “We can try our best but there will always be opposers to what we say.”

“How come that’s what calms me down every single time you say it?” Roman asked, a trace of his normal smile popping up again.

“I just have that kind of voice,” Patton replied, still smiling. “You good to see the King without sounding disdainful and like all the hate towards your father is actually towards him?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” Roman said, coughing slightly and blinking furiously. “Let’s go.”

Holy shit. The amount of reception that came out of that first part was fucking mind-boggling. I was in the living room with my parents and I just checked and bam... a ton of love from so many people. I started crying right then and there.

Thank you so much. Seriously, thank you.

Taglist is still wide open!

Taglist: @octopushugs @ryuity @fandergecko @rileyfirstname @spectacled-renegade @ijustreallylovesanderssides @fireflies-and-pattons-eyes @fireflies-and-pattons-eyes

@redqueen29, I’m not sure why but your URL isn’t working in tags, so I hope you find this.

Have an absolutely incredible day!

#Mermaids #Thomas Sanders #Sanders Sides #Virgil Sanders #Deceit Sanders #Remy Sanders #Emile Picani #Roman Sanders #Patton Sanders #AU #Fan Fiction #Writing

131 notes · View notes

thehiddenlawyer · 6 years

Text

Mother’s Milk

Before you read-- please keep in mind that I’m REALLY not mentally...stable enough to write coherently so y’know. Enjoy <3

Apparently, the only way to untangle what my brain’s going through is to realize that my experience of Mother’s Milk isn’t just from the perspective of Patrick a survivor of sexual abuse, but also the addict, the potential alcoholic, a potential mother, a lover of difficult men and situations (these last two are Mary), and the helpless outsider looking in (Robert), and someone who is completely horrified of messing up so badly that their preventive measures completely backfire and bring full-circle (Patrick again).

During my first reading of Mother’s Milk I found I didn’t connect to it as much as I had with the other books in the story and I’m not sure why. I think my brain focused so completely on Some Hope and the aspects of Patrick as the survivor trying to find his way into the world that Mother’s Milk was too abstract for me to understand.

I kept thinking, even after I reread the novels, that the reason I wasn’t able to connect to the fourth novel was because I’m not a mother, and I have a pretty healthy relationship with my parents. I think the world of my parents, they’ve given me more than I could ever hope for, they’ve sacrificed and have continued to sacrifice, for my sisters and I on a profound level. Like all parents, they’re human and they made mistakes, they’ve given me my fair share of baggage again, like all parents, no matter how careful they are.

So I have continued to read the book as a fan of literature and found myself enthralled with Edward St. Aubyn’s representation of motherhood and childhood, and the understanding of the child of his mother and father, and eventually his sibling. It’s such breathtaking, pure prose, an imaginative take on Patrick’s children. If you’ve read the novels you know that the perspective shifts a lot, that we see the point of view of different characters, not just Patrick. So when the baby narrator talked about his father who couldn’t stop talking in the hospital room, I remember my heart in my throat wondering if the baby’s father was Patrick!

Imagine my surprise last night when I watched Mother’s Milk and found that I connected so much more to this bit of the story than I’d imagined earlier. I still don’t think I fully understand what happened, and I don’t understand my reactions to a few bits of it—I just know that I reacted, and maybe as I verbally vomit all over this post I can figure out a few things through my exhaustive question for narrative exhaustion.

This was also the biggest deviation between the book and the show by the way, the book is so complex because it’s mostly cerebral, a lot of it is Robert’s understanding of his father and his father’s situation and the relationship his father has with Eleanor. The book shows Robert’s sympathy more, Patrick doesn’t fail as viciously as he does in the show. But the show does capture Patrick’s desperation to be a better father and to protect is children from the poison of his past and his own life, but he tries so hard that it backfires and he comes back full circle. There’s this gorgeous scene in the book when they’re in a shitty hotel room in New York (after having gotten kicked out of a few others because Patrick is David’s son and he has to get them thrown out of a few places first) where Thomas and Mary are sleeping in one room but Robert can’t sleep so he goes to the living room where Patrick’s supposed to be sleeping on the sofa bed but he’s in this manic state, caught between insomnia and drunkness and he simply absorbs his father’s verbal vomit. Robert tells Patrick to stop because he’s frightened and Patrick does, and he apologizes and winds up reading to his son instead.

While the books are filled with loving, touching moments like that, I think the episode really lacked that bit of humanity that Patrick has.

I’m starting to realize that I’m disappointed with this episode.

It conveys what it needs to convey, it highlights everything it should highlight, especially Robert’s understanding of Patrick but it does it contained in an hour long tv episode. I think they could make a full length feature film with Mother’s Milk with all the correct details and I’d watch it a million times.

The Addict

Through therapy and research and counselling, I’ve discovered that children who suffered trauma or specifically sexual abuse at a very young age tend to have addictive personalities. It’s a coping mechanism, it’s something comfortable and familiar, something easy to turn to when everything else is up in the air. If you take the alcohol and drugs out of the connotation of addiction, you’ll see that it’s simply repetitive, comforting behavior, something to blur the edges of reality not through chemical haze or a high but the simple psychology of doing something to distract you from your own thoughts.

I have a very addictive personality and it shows itself in a lot of ways. I call it stubbornness, my family and friends prefer to think of it as a healthy sense of curiosity and a thirst for knowledge. But once I get a…noun in my head, I have to pursue it and I have no control over it. And I say noun because it can be a person (BC, Nick Cave, AB, even people that I latch on to like @sobeautifullyobsessed) place (Fort Point in San Francisco, Baker Beach, Half Moon Bay, London, Molly’s flat) or a thing (alcohol, cigarettes, writing….writing is the biggest one) or an idea (Sherlolly, any idea I’ve ever had to write any story or a character that inspires my thoughts like Patrick or Christopher Tiejens).

It’s HARD.

I’ve tried my best to let go of these distractors because I can SEE I’m out of control when I’m in one of my “manic states”. When I’ve latched onto this noun so hard that’s permeating everything I do, everything I think, everything I say. These nouns distract me from work, from school. You’ve SEEN my posts where I should be studying but I can’t stop watching something or reading something or writing something. Through therapy and meditation, I noticed that I latch on like that when the past bubbles too close to the surface, where the violence and shame that whispers across my skin is a little too close to the surface and I need something else to occupy my brain for those moments.

That’s addiction explained in general, now I want to talk to you about alcoholism before I connect it back to Patrick.

I struggle with alcohol. A combination of my addictive personality and the chemical affects of alcohol have been a lure since I was a teenager, and I’ve been very painfully aware that it’s a rabbit hole waiting to swallow me up. I made a conscious decision when I was 16 that I wouldn’t touch alcohol until I turned 21, and once I turned 21, I tried to never buy alcohol for myself but in my family and my culture it’s always present so I’ve always been around it. When I moved it, I’ve been living with foot on solid ground and one in the rabbit’s hole. With my health crises, I swore it off completely and succeeded for a while to stay sober but I’ve been predictably failing miserably these past few weekends.

I’ve tried to never drink alone but I’ve done it several times and secret, which is a warning bell. The problem is always that it’s a secret, and I drink to pass out.

I drank A LOT last night during the wedding, I felt myself slipping away and had exercise some control and stop. I am aware that I was giggly and talkative like I always am when I’m sloshed—I don’t know if it’s a gift or a curse. No one ever knows I’m drunk, and I’m never a sad or angry when I’m around people. When I’m, alone that’s a different story.

And drinking helps you disconnect from you skin, lets you float away from things you don’t want to confront, things that you’d rather go unthought.

For someone who has lived through trauma (and let me enumerate for you what I have been through: sexual abuse by multiple parties as a child, becoming a refugee when I was 8 and being forced out of my home to come to a country where I knew nothing and no one and my parents knew nothing and no one, I’ve lived through life-threatening illness and recently, having survived law school, my body tried to kill me again and I’m still dealing with that bit of reality) you can see why drinking and disassociation and addiction is such a lovely thought for us.

I would much rather look at my life objectively. I sometimes like to imagine what it’s like hearing my story as someone who doesn’t know me, who hasn’t been around me. How can one single person experience being raped as a child, becoming a refugee, cancer, suicidal thoughts and addiction, and still function?

Well…you can, it just comes with a lot of extra little side effects that you probably aren’t aware of.

Like Patrick can be a husband, a father, a survivor of being raped repeatedly by his father with an indifferent mother, he can be a drug addict, an alcoholic, and a barrister.

He can be all those things.

The side effects are when you’re not careful, the smallest notion, the smallest idea or thought can push you over the edge.

I can sit here and have conversations about being raped and function perfectly but one day someone will something small and (I loathe this word) trigger me and I go down to a spiral. I drink, I seek my other addictions, because I need to not be me for a little bit, I’d rather just watch someone else deal with being me.

You can fight it and fight it and fight it. You can lay awake nights dreaming of that escape that you KNOW ruins your life and you someone make it through one more second without it until you just can’t. until one tiny thing pushes you over the edge and it’s a house of course that falls. You drink too much, you smoke too much, you neglect your responsibilities, you push away everything that is good about yourself because you need to wallow in the bad, to convince yourself that you are a shitty person because shitty things happened to you.

I do that all the fucking time, I’m doing it right now. I should be studying for the Bar, I shouldn’t be drinking, I shouldn’t be smoking, I shouldn’t be writing, I shouldn’t be reading anything that’s not related to the Bar. But I’m not, because it’s comforting self-destructive behavior, it’s something I know how to do, it’s easier than all the rest of it.

For Patrick, it’s the same. I’m not asking you to excuse any of his behavior, because I can’t forgive him for giving up on himself because I feel like he’s propelled me to giving up on myself too (I really have these past few days just thinking about Mother’s Milk and At Last) but this is urging you to understand why he fails so miserably, why he flushes years of sobriety down the toilet, why he can’t stop making his parents mistakes and adopting them as your own.

The harder you run, the easier it is to fall and that’s what happens to him.

Potential Mother

My ideas about motherhood are laden with trauma and feminism, they’re this psychotic, bipolar, schizophrenic blend of narcissism, selfishness, abject fear of failure as a mother, fear of lack of control over what happens to my child, hating the idea of becoming nothing but a stay-at-home mom after working so hard to become more…so reading and watching Mother’s Milk the potential mother in me is watching it in terror.

Because all I can imagine is finding the man I love, the man I adore, the love of my heart and soul, predictably attracted to his darkness and intensity, trusting him enough to let him father my child only to come to the realization that he’s not as strong as I need him to be, that I’m going to have to step up to bat and be everything to our child because he’s failing.

The thought of leaving that potential love in favor of my child’s wellbeing sickens me to my stomach. I can’t bare the thought and that potential mother shrivels at this unlikely hypothetical.

God I don’t even want to think about what that’s like.

I can’t bare to think what Mary goes through! (And yet I do, as @sobeautifullyobsessed has been reading via my extremely random ass prose)

So we circle back to Julia and what happens with Patrick and I again preface this with a few things- these are my thoughts based on my own background and prejudices, my own life experiences and my understanding of the characters in the novels and the show. This is my opinion based on addiction and personalities and trauma, my understanding love.

Julia is a very, very, very messed up individual. She every bit as pompous and unbearable git as Patrick is. The difference is that Julia enjoys the cruelty of their world while Patrick takes comfort in the routine of it- it’s a world he knows, disappointment and anger are emotions that he understands better than happiness or forgiveness. It’s easier to default to negative emotions rather than positive or productive ones (as I’ve been learning these past few days).

Julia should not have encouraged Patrick. And Patrick should have walked away.

But they didn’t because they’re both damaged individuals.

There’s no excuse.

There’s no excuse in claiming that Mary was being cold to Patrick, there’s no excuse in saying that Patrick was feeling lonely and bored and needing sex and Julia was available.

If he really wanted to, he could have found Mary, could have told her, could have confided in her.

GOD the way he clings to her in the beginning after he tells her he’s been disinherited, the smile on his face when he’s in bed and she tells him they’re going to pick up Kettle, the way they lay on the couch together and talk about needing a holiday from their holiday….he actively, consciously, with malice aforethought pushes her away. He’s confused between wanting her so much he can’t stand it and wanting to push her away just in case he makes the same mistakes his father did, same mistakes his mother made. And while attempting to run away from all that, he makes his own, fresh mistakes with Mary. He knows it too, he says exactly that while he’s on the poolside with Julia.

He could have turned to Mary but she’s new, the joy she could bring him, the promise of peace and forgiveness with her standing beside him is too much light for someone who knows darkness like an old friend.

He should have turned to Mary.

As for Julia—let’s go back to their relationship shall we. In the books, when they first meet, she’s underage and talks him into having sex with her. In the show, the only positive thing she does is show up at the end of Never Mind and put her hand over his forehead. In Some Hope she tries to break his heart and his best friends heart by forcing him to fuck her when he’s in no condition to make a rational decision Here, she does the same thing. She should’ve pushed him away.

A good person in her shoes would have pushed him away.

I cannot and will not deny that Benedict Cumberbatch the actor and Jessica Raine the actress have wonderful chemistry together and they’re so sexy together, they’re interactions are stunning, crackling with energy.

But but BUT the toxic relationship between Patrick and Julia should NOT be sexualized or idealized. Cheating on your devoted and loving spouse is NOT sexy. Taking advantage of someone with clear emotional issues, struggling with sobriety, hanging on to it by a thread, is NOT sexy. It can never be sexy, and it should never be sexy.

Christ my heart hurt for Mary. I’ve been seeing discussions on here and on twitter about when Mary knows that her husband is being unfaithful—she knows the second it happens. Watch her the morning after, when he stands next to her and says “now we can have fun!” The poor thing knows and she tries to excuse it away because she loves him, and she understands the pain he’s in, the confusion he’s experiencing.

In this love triangle, only Mary Melrose comes out in tact. Julia and Patrick…they mess up big time, and Patrick knows it.

And instead of stopping, instead of trying to find someway back to being a husband and father, he pushes Mary further and further away because it’s so much easier than confronting their life together.

God he wants to be with her so much but he doesn’t know how.

There’s a feeling of decapitation, like missing a limb, losing the words that you want to say but they’re not there, they’ve flown the coop.

I want to confess, I want to live in your heart, I want the warmth of your soul, the warmth of your smile but darling it’s easier to push you away now because what if I disappoint you again, what if I break your heart again? I need to cut you my love, before you cut me.

I’ve had that conversation so many fucking times man….

Love me but I need you to hate me to function.

Love me, be my escape, but I need to make you hate me because I don’t want to see disappointment in your eyes.

-----------------------------

Guys, I’m completely certain I’m not making any sense because I’m really in a bit of a free fall right now and there’s no landing in sight.

I might add more to this, make it more coherent but this is all I got. And I’m not making sense.

#mother's milk #patrick melrose #benedict cumberbatch #edward st. aubyn #my thoughts #my opinions only nothing else

68 notes · View notes

live-on-purpose · 5 years

Text

#DRY2018

In 2018, I successfully achieved 12 whole months without a single drop of alcohol.

My year started with the idea to stay away from alcohol. Not as a New Year’s Resolution but as a life change. Incidentally, it meant becoming free of everything tying me down.

Alcohol is used by most of us in our lives for different reasons, including in celebration, for comfort, to socialise, to wind down, and to cope. This year I have celebrated, felt comfort, socialised, wound down when I needed to, and coped for an entire 12 months without the need to consume even a single drop of alcohol. And I succeeded. I won. I didn’t rely on something that wasn’t me to get through the year. Not even a part of it. Not a week, a day, an hour, or a minute. I am free.

I have told people differing stories why I decided to stop drinking, and so here is a brief and honest account of the real reasons.

I began #Dry2018 at midnight on New Year’s Day. I watched the countdown on the TV whilst downing my last glass of prosecco (two and a half bottles in), and as the first firework launched into the sky above London I put my glass down. I was very drunk, and after the now-faint memory of FaceTiming my sister from her next door neighbour’s house, I passed out a few hours later, somewhere. It had become a normality for me to sleep where I fell. I woke up the next day feeling terrible. I listened to sad songs, I felt lonely, but I wanted to be on my own. I wanted to bathe in the heaviness. I could have drank. I didn’t.

I had decided that I was going to begin a new journey of sobriety about a week and a half before New Year. I’d tried last year, between March and August 2017. For 3 months I undertook a dry volunteering programme with the International Citizen Service (ICS) and Raleigh International, and upon my return I couldn’t find it within myself to drink after living a life without it. I felt like I would be letting myself down. During my summer working at camp in America, I became very low and was advised that alcohol may be my last resort of an escape. Long story short, it wasn’t. It made everything ten times worse. I broke 4 and a half months sobriety and once again relied on alcohol to feel ‘okay’. Feeling at a loss without it, I drank every day from mid-August onwards for a while. It was a downward spiral.

I moved to London and began drama school in September 2017. I usually drank once a week. I could have drank a lot more often, but I wanted to make sure I kept in good health for classes, and so I left it to the end of each week. I would occasionally go out too, but not unless I was very drunk, and remained so throughout the night. Before my end of term assessment I had a brief sober period of a week and a half to make sure I could achieve my full potential in the performance exam. After this I don’t remember going a day without drinking until after Christmas. The day and night of my assessment I drank so much I said things I should never have said, heard things I should never have heard and I felt embarrassed and uneasy. But I carried on, because in my mind drinking was what made me happy and it helped me to cope with feelings I didn’t particularly want to engage with.

It became a vicious circle. I would be low, so I would drink to be happy, and I would drink so much that I would become unhappier than I was before. The main problem was one drink never worked. One drink, or two, or three, was out of the question. I would drink until I couldn’t drink anymore. It didn’t help that alcohol was a depressant, when depression was what I was suffering from. This was something I found out that summer whilst in America, when it got so bad I couldn’t keep it to myself anymore.

Around Christmas I would drink bottle after bottle of prosecco, among other alcoholic beverages. Everything was foggy. The days I should have been enjoying the most with the people I love in my life were horrible. I was anxious and very heavy, and alcohol was the only cure, except each time it became the problem and not the solution. The day after drinking I would always be surrounded by grey feelings, and alcohol would be the answer. I realised all this about a week before New Year, when I was drinking in my house alone, and vowed to stop drinking for as long as I could handle it. I hoped to do a month for Dry January but really I hoped to get to the end of May, after my final show at drama school, so I could be in the best health for my rehearsals and performances.

I realised I needed to stop relying on something to be happy, especially when it was actually doing the opposite. And I wanted to prove to myself that I could find comfort in myself in any situation as me, and only me. Not as me with alcohol. Purely me. I never believed I would ever achieve such a feat, and certainly not for a whole year.

The first couple of months were difficult. I had support from a lot of people, but a lot of people thought I was crazy. It made me feel different to other people in social situations, at least to begin with. But I felt more in control. I felt like I wouldn’t get tied into doing things I didn’t want to do, or stay for longer than I wanted to. I had a lot more time to myself. And that was okay. I was able to learn a lot more about who I was and what I enjoyed in life and what made me me.

It was difficult to tell people the reason I wanted to quit alcohol. I knew the real reasons were to see if I could achieve happiness as myself and to fight depression as much as I could. However, the main thing I told people was that it was for my drama school shows, and to make sure I didn’t have to rely on something. The former was true, and the latter was simply a nice benefit from sobriety.

I posted each month I conquered being sober on Twitter as a celebration. It gave me an incentive too. #DryJanuary became #DryFebruary which became #DryApril and #DryJune and so on. After the first few months in I shifted from ‘I’m not drinking at the moment’ to ‘I don’t drink’, and I felt a new sense of power in my newfound sobriety. Ordering a non-alcoholic drink became a habit, rather than an active choice, even though all those around me were drinking. I didn’t even eat meals that were cooked in alcohol, because it is difficult to tell whether the alcohol has all boiled away (since food would need to be cooked for four hours to make absolutely sure). I rejected the main course of our family Easter dinner, as well as another meal a month or two later. I felt bad, but in my mind, if for one second I believed I’d consumed alcohol (even a drop) I would have failed myself. If I had, this may incidentally have caused me to start drinking again. So I held off, completely.

I would be lying if I said being sober instantaneously made me happy, at least not for the first six months. I started to discover myself more, but I wasn’t entirely comfortable in myself. I reached a huge low in my mental state in late-March/early April, and told those close to me that there were only two solutions. Begin drinking again, or seek medical help. I sought medical help, which was subsequently given to me. I was told that drinking alcohol whilst on medication would be dangerous because it would be completely unpredictable. One drink could send me over the edge, and ten drinks could have little effect. So this gave me more reason to stay sober. From those around me I experienced the effects second-hand that mixing these two substances together could have, and I didn’t want to experience it myself.

For the time I was on medication, my feelings were flat at best, and I began to lose interest and care in the world and people around me. I couldn’t cry and I felt little to no emotion. I made mistakes, lost who I was and misplaced my passions. After another huge low in June, I left behind everything I had been working towards in order to help myself. I left behind my course, London, and my future career. It wasn’t a choice. It was a necessity that I felt with all my being. I didn’t have any interest in the life I had anymore. I needed to find out why, and follow my heart to make sure happiness found me again. I felt tied down, and if I felt tied I knew it wasn’t the time to be pursuing something I was terribly unhappy with. One of the milestones I hoped to achieve on my journey was to come off my medication. And just like alcohol at New Year, to be free of something I’d become reliant on. I sought freedom, and a motivation to keep on living.

Once I was able to leave London, my course, and my ambitions that had become tainted, things changed. I was lucky enough to be given the first job I applied for, away in the mountains of Switzerland. I had been inspired by a spontaneous adventure in the summer to Slovenia, and realised that the outside was where I was going to find peace. Peace of mind, and peace of heart. My job involved working with children, and leading outdoor activities including hiking. Everything about the place I was in, and the things I was doing, made me realise what I’d been missing. For the first time in a year, I felt like I was being myself. I wasn’t trying to be anyone else. I wasn’t playing the part of anyone else. I was me. And it was a huge breath of fresh air.

A few weeks in I decided to come off my medication. I had been lowering the dose bit by bit over the weeks, but it finally felt like I was in a safe place and it was a safe time to leave it behind completely. The weeks ahead felt constructive, rather than destructive. I was ready for the fall. I was ready for it to hit me like a brick wall, but it didn’t; I only had a few brief episodes and a few stray thoughts within the first couple of months. I was further above the surface than I’d been for a long time. My emotions returned. I began to cry again when it was right to cry, and it was a beautifully overwhelming thing. I was able to learn how to love myself again, for exactly who I was. My mind and my body, my perfections and my flaws. I embraced it, and took note of how new this feeling was. It had been a while since I truly felt worth, and it is still coming back to me.

By this point, alcohol wasn’t something I was doing without. It was something I didn’t need, or crave at all. I didn’t need an escape through a mind-altering substance. I’d found my escape in myself, surrounded by life and positivity and new air. It was also in this place that I found love. A love where I could be totally myself, and feel totally myself. Finally, I was free. I was free to love and be loved, because I wasn’t trapped by anything or anyone. All the ties had been cut, and I was making new ties in the right places. Ties that I wanted to make, in the right places, and with the right people.

The job, the experiences and the environment in Switzerland led me to discover new ways I can live my life, at least for now. It helped me realise there are ways to stay young and enjoy the moment you’re in, and that you can take life one step at a time if you so wish. Life doesn’t need to be mapped out in front of you completely.

I looked to new adventures, and at the end of November I found myself working in Lapland over the Christmas period as an elf for the real Santa. Even though it should have been the perfectly happy and magical experience I’d expected, I encountered a slow free fall in my mental well-being. I put this largely down to the lack of sunlight, but also that my wounds were still healing which made me vulnerable to people and situations. Before I knew it, around Christmas I was craving alcohol again to fill in the empty space I was feeling in my stomach, thanks to my less than perfect head. I took it as a learning experience that being in the wrong environment can be dangerous, and I needn’t put myself in difficult situations no matter how strong I thought I was. It reminded me that recovery never follows a single straight line. Returning from Lapland helped me to rediscover who I’d been before flying out there.

I’d be lying if I said getting sober solved all my problems. However, doing something that is healthy for my mind and my body is a good place to start. And as of now, it’s wonderful to admit that I am happy, especially when I know the only thing I am truly relying on to be happy, is myself. Of course, I am not naive enough to think the journey is over. I am still learning, and I am still becoming who I am. I don’t think I’ll ever stop. But right now, as each day passes, I am enjoying the journey that I am on. There is no destination. There is the everyday.

For now, because I don’t need or want it, I am staying sober. From alcohol, and from the life that makes me unhappy.

I am following happiness, and I am ready to continue down that road.

Photo: On top of Mont D’Or (2175m) looking over Leysin, Switzerland in September 2018.

#life changes #life in colour #sobriety is my superpower #love yourself for who you are #sobriety #sober #depression #mental health #happiness #love #freedom #alcohol aware #dry january #dryjanuary2019 #dry 2018 #one year sober

1 note · View note

shorthairdontcare22 · 6 years

Text

The King of the Delta Blues

Okayyyyyy, here I come, freshly finished 2x06 and a LOT to say (for a change)

let’s start by the overall coverage of the episode :

Timeless have tried new things those last weeks, and man it works ! we’ve been in Salem then for the first time, we stayed in the present chasing after JFK and this week, again the show dynamic is thrown while we have both : present and past, exploring a new balance in the team, from three to four, with Flynn and Mason nonetheless, and boy, those two brought their share and I am glad they did.

How about beginning with Connor Mason :

Connor Mason was OUTSTANDING ! the writers really gave the punch the character needed to be known and liked. In 16 episodes in season 1, I feel like they didn’t give us one moment to get attached to this character and therefore sometimes, at one point it is necessary to think about a character : “Yeah, I can identify to him, I like human, he’s more accessible”.

Mason looses his company, for good and as he says, drunk as ever, “ there goes the obvilion” where everybody is forgotten, for good. Mason is afraid to be forgotten, to be remembered if he is, as a man who failed his company and the values he stood for before RH got in the way, before he “ gave his soul to the devil”.

Then, we learn that Mason never actually did time travel and his reaction to time travel is absolutely HILARIOUS and as every new time traveller, Mason Connor turns out to be a real fanboy when it comes to historical figures, in this case, Robert Johnson.

My favorite part was when he convinces Robert to record his album and his speech is everything I could hope for because it has a strong meaning, to Robert and to Connor : “ you fight back... and this bad luck is gonna keep chasing you until you decide to stop, stand your ground and fight” Paterson Joseph, you’re a KING !

At this moment, Connor knows this is not the end, he’ll find another way to get back to what and where he was, only this time, he’ll do right, he will fight and he’ll stand his ground.

Let’s continue with Flynn :

I always said that Flynn was the most complicated character because he had so much complexity. He acts without a moral compass, he kills, he’s been doing this for too long and the thing is, he can’t stop now, I personally think that he’s into deep.

I LOVED his scenes with Lucy : the first one had a weird vibe and not weird in a romantic way ( please, tell me where are the romantic moves/vibes/words). I mean, the man is literally using Lucy’s own thoughts to get her to talk, this is not romanticism, this is a violation of privacy and almost psychotic. But, in his own weird way, he tries to get her to talk, he tries to get her feel something and it doesn’t work because right here, Lucy is still numb, she’s still off, and this needs to stop.

The second time, when they talk, in the car, that’s when we feel Lucy’s guard down. I loved that Flynn recognized that it was a bit pushy to use what is written in her journal and make it seems like he knows her because he read the journal and I loved that he wants to get to know her, the lucy in the Journal is not enough and she never was because what are the odds that Lucy in the Journal will exist exactly one day ? What is the whole point of giving the journal to Flynn if we have the same outcome when it comes to Lucy ? Maybe it is one of the reasons Old Lucy gave the journal to Flynn, to help our Lucy to make better crucial choices, and keep the mantra that “ we make our future” even if Fate has its ways sometimes.

And I am sorry Garcy fans, but I didn’t get any romantic vibes there either : Flynn talks about his wife, about the little things she used to do, and more importantly he says : “somehow, some way, we’ll save the people we love”. Flynn role is to help Lucy, not only getting Amy back, but helping her, right now because she is lonely, she drinks at night, she goes to sleepless night to sleepless night : Lucy can’t fight back and can’t stand her ground ( Connor Mason resonating ?) if she keeps acting like this.

Lucy is spiraling, wherever we want her to be strong, she’s not right now and I thank Flynn for the real smile he put on her face for the first time in weeks.

How about Wyatt ( and a bit of Lucy and Rufus by the end, because OTT (Orignal Time Team) :

WYATT LOGAN ( does anyone knows if he has another name because this is a situation when i want to call him by all his names and taking him by the ear and say) : I WON’T SAY I TOLD YOU SO !

Let’s be clear, I won’t even talk about the joke between him and Rufus because I just didn’t get what was funny : Rufus is talking about leaving the towel on the door but yet Wyatt seems to not understand, there is a pause and he laughs; I didn’t get why he laughed, that was not funny, there wasn’t even a joke, I didn’t get it. ahah

I just want to aknowledge three scenes :

- when Wyatt stays behind, he is confused, and Lucy is practically running to the Lifeboat without looking at him : he only gets half a glance while she leaves and that baby was GOLD. Sorry, i KNOW I KNOW we say we don’t go hating on Wyatt BUUUT I am a woman and when I see another woman hurting, I can’t help myself, even in those circumstances ( #ProtectingWyattSquad, pardon me).

- Carol Preston is SAVAGE : YOU CAN’T, CAN YOU ? omg I died on the scene. Wyatt is a soldier, he listens to orders, he doesn’t second guess his orders, he’s acting on them but NOT WHEN IT COMES TO MS LUCY PRESTON. He knows he can’t take the shot, he does not hesitate on taking it because from the moment he sees Carol, he knows he won’t shoot. It’s not about killing Carol, about leaving Lucy with no one, it is about taking a step forward to hurting her and by now I think he realizes that maybe, Lucy’s not all about Wyatt giving a chance to his marriage, and maybe Lucy does have feelings for him, he’s just so oblivious to them ( that’s okay I forgive him)

- THE REALIZATION finishes striking by the end of the episode : he comes back from the raid, he sees them all, smiling, laughing and I don’t know he seems kind of lost ? I personally think he’s actually very lost, not only when it comes to Jessica and Lucy but when it comes to his place in the team. is he still the hot head and reckless soldier he used to be when he joined in? spoiler : NO. Is he still capable to follow the orders we give him without giving the chance to his feelings to play out ? spoiler : NO. Every of these things will come into play when he decides what he wants to be and who he wants to be with.

Realization hits him HARD in the face (THE LOOKS MATT LANTER GAVE DURING 1 MN : WORTH ALL THE EP AHAH) when Lucy tells him TWICE to get back to Jessica ? ( How many times does Lucy need to tell Wyatt to go back to his wife ? Seriously ?) She tells him to go to his wife while he only want to talk to her, be with her, only if it is for chatting over a drink, over a stupid boardgame. He doesn’t even take the time to take off his gears, he wants to know how it was, with Flynn ( Yeap we saw that jealous look when she said he was more than fine, WE SAW IT WYATT), he wants to know everything but Lucy is a Queen and she’s not giving in, she stands her grounds and partly thanks to Flynn and his pep talk in the car.

I AM NOT MAD at Wyatt because he has his own s**/% to deal with and I hope he’ll deal with them nicely but I AM SO PROUD OF LUCY !!

Little notes aside :

- Lucy, stop drinking, that’s it, switch to ice cream, you can given the body you have

- I want to hug Jiyja

- that RIYA kiss “ and that’s my love it is how you upgrade a time machine” I LOVE THEM

- LOVE Flynn’s faces and expressions

- Rufus, I am bit mad at you for not comforting Lucy, ONCE ! we’ll talk about it later there were more pressing issues. You deserve to wait for peeing !

- MAMA DENISE... BAD ASS !!

Well if you’ve arrived till here, thank you for reading and we don’t jump, we hang on !!!

@modernlifehistorian @chasethesun18 @simply-anya @bestshipcaptainswan @timelessbae12 @enchanted-keys @fangirlishsite @chloeswans @wyatttoldme

#timeless #nbc timeless #lucy preston #wyatt logan #rufus carlin #jiya marri #lyatt #manyfeels

84 notes · View notes

brutcllysoft · 3 years

Text

post-release party ft. @becamedcath

setting: andy’s apartment, july 2020

ROWAN

Rowan can’t help but feel like she’s entered into some kind of manic episode. After her dramatic exit from the party, she’d asked her driver to drop her off back at her apartment. Once inside she kicked her heels off and practically beelined for her shower in an attempt to scrub the night off of her. In all honesty, she’s not sure how long she stays in there -- only getting out when the mixture of the cooled down water and Scout whining outside of the bathroom coax her into it. She checks her phone to see a plethora of texts and missed calls from Tyson and Reina, guilt settling in that she’d managed to worry her mother by disappearing again and she finds the energy to call her. It lasts less than thirty seconds, just long enough for her to apologize and assure Reina that she is home, safe and sound and that she doesn’t need her to come over. She doesn’t bother replying to Tyson, unsure of what she would even say to him and uninterested in entertaining the fight that it is sure to start. Instead, she turns her phone off and spends the next few hours curled up on her couch with Scout lounging in her lap. The letter Andy gave her is sitting on the coffee table practically begging her to read it and eventually -- she does. It’s embarrassing how her hands shake as she rips the creased envelope open and unfolds the paper, trying to brace herself for the worst case scenario though she finds it difficult to pinpoint one worst case. She’s already imagined so many different things that could be in the letter, she hardly knows where to start.

She reads it four times just to make sure she’s read it all correctly. Out of all the different letters she’d written in her own mind over the last half a year, none of them had been like this. She doesn’t know how she is supposed to react to this. She’d spent all this time preparing for some sort of pity note where he owned up to being a piece of shit before ultimately apologizing for using her all that time -- for indulging in the fact that she was just there and clearly head over heels for him and that made her an easy target for a warm body to lay beside when he felt he needed it. She’d been prepared for that. Had practically planned out her next spiral for it -- she’d lock herself away in her house in the mountains for a few days, burn the thing in the fire pit out back and then come back to Nashville and put on a happy face and go back to life as normal. What she wasn’t prepared for, though, was something this genuine -- an apology and a declaration of love where he talks about wanting to do better, wanting to be better, to do things right. She has no idea how to react to that.

It doesn’t occur to her that she doesn’t have his phone number anymore until her phone is powered back on, and so she does the next best thing and calls Chris who, despite all of his charm, can’t figure out how to open his contact list without hanging up the phone. Instead he rattles off an address for her, and she figures that’s as good as she’s going to get and before she has a chance to talk herself out of it, she’s climbing into her rarely driven car and following the directions from the navigation system. Her heart feels like it’s in her throat the whole way, and she has no idea what she’s going to say when she gets there, or if he’ll even be home at all. By now it’s after three in the morning -- Rowan has seen Andy party far later into the night on too many occasions to count, but considering his recent dip into sobriety, she has no idea if he would have stayed out so late. Besides, she’s banging on his door before she has time to fully contemplate what all of this means. She’s only vaguely aware of how insane she must look to his neighbors right now -- hair still damp from her shower, clad in her pajamas and banging on his door in the middle of the night. She’s lucky no one has called the cops. When he answers, Rowan barely gives him a chance to fully open the door before she’s holding the letter up. “Did you mean this?” Obviously he’d told her earlier in the night that it had been genuine, but she can’t help but ask again, her insecurities are so deeply rooted inside of her that if she doesn’t ask now, she’s never going to be able to let it go.

ANDY

He’s left winded after his backstage conversation with Rowan. Andy can hardly get a deep breath in while he does his due diligence, saying hello to a few people, thanking others — He barely remembers a conversation with Greg Sullivan as thoughts of Rowan flow through on a steady rotation, and the smell of whiskey fills his nose. Hellos and goodbyes come as quickly — The party goes on without him now that he’s off stage, and within two hours he’s telling Chris he’s going to head home. His manager, thankfully, doesn’t question it. Sobriety alone has been enough of a struggle, anyone can pick up on the way Andy’s eyed the open bar before taking a shaky breath each time he passes by — So there aren't many questions when he slips out the back exit. Home is a sanctuary, a sensation he’s not used to. His old house was closer to a venue than a home, serving as the place for the after party rather than somewhere to retreat to. His new place — A spacious, industrial style loft in a quiet neighborhood — is the only place he wants to be, wrapped in the comfort of his bed. So, he does just that. After a shower to wash away the sweat and the smell of smoke and booze and faint hint of Rowan’s perfume, the night catches up with him. He does his best to push thoughts of the party from his mind, to let himself focus on all the good things going on in his life. Between each thing he lists is her name, the look on her face, the thought of Rowan hanging off her boyfriend’s arm.

It’s not often that exhaustion takes him easily, though when it does, he eventually ends up in a half awake daze, tossing and turning. Tonight is no different, sleepy thoughts of Rowan find him — Dreams of all the times he’s left her sleeping alone, all the things he wished he had said, his own made up scenarios of her reading the letter or tossing it out without a second thought. He’s pulled back to reality by the sound of someone banging on his door, stirring him awake. Bleary eyes glance at his phone to see 3:23 AM. Reluctantly, he pulls himself from bed — Noodles hissing at him before running away, annoyed to have his 16 hours of sleep disturbed. His hands rub the sleep from his eyes as he makes his way to the front door, hair sticking up everywhere, multiple yawns passing his lips. He’s half expecting to find Sid hammered and leaning against the doorway, mumbling to himself about music industry conspiracies. Instead, he’s met with Rowan standing on his doorstep, making demands with the letter in her hands. Had he not been so taken aback, he’d be happy to see that she’s read it. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust, his brain to focus on the fact that he isnt hallucinating. Instead of stating the obvious— What are you doing here? How did you get my address? Since when do you drive? — Andy answers her. “Every word.” He answers softly, not letting himself look away. He opens the door fully, stepping out of the way. “My neighbors are old and nosy.” Andy states simply, before adding: “If you’re gonna yell at me again, might as well do it inside.” He’s trying to ignore the knots in his stomach, his heart slamming against his chest. There’s no liquid courage in this, no boost from a line — Only the two of them, alone, in the middle of the night. This is what he wanted, isn’t it? Maybe not this setting — But to get this moment of closure, to try and give her some kind of peace of mind, somehow convey the truth to her. After the album release party, Andy’s not sure what to do next when it comes to Rowan Fisher.

ROWAN

Her heart has been beating so fast and loud in her ears that Rowan’s sure she can’t focus on anything else -- until Andy is in front of her and then it seems to quiet down instantaneously. Between the messy mop on top of his head and the way he has to blink several times before his eyes really focus on her, it’s very clear that she has woken him up. There’s a vague feeling of guilt that comes with the realization and she can’t feel like she’s crashing his party for the second time tonight -- she’d already ruined his evening causing a scene at what should be the happiest night of his year, and now she can’t even let him get a good night’s sleep. But there had been no chance that this could wait until the morning. She’d read the letter and it had only left her with a head full of confusing thoughts and a chest full of confusing feelings and an overwhelming desire to just be close to him and try and figure this out. Even if figuring it out means that they talk it through and never see each other outside of label events again and they find some sort of closure. It leaves a sinking feeling in her stomach and it’s become glaringly obvious over the last few days just how not over him she really is, despite what she has claimed for the better part of the last year. However, she doesn’t have long to dwell on that before Andy’s moving to let her in.

It feels weird to be inside Andy’s home right now. Of course she’d been in his old apartment more times than she can count, and she’d seen his bedroom at Christopher’s house, but this is different --- it’s nicer. Cleaner. Feels more like a home rather than just somewhere to sleep off hangovers before going for round two when he managed to roll out of bed. “I’m not here to yell at you,” she frowns, that guilt from earlier making a reappearance. “I’m sorry about that -- I shouldn’t have…” but the apology dies on her tongue before she can even really get it out. She doesn’t know what she’s apologizing for, really. Instead she redirects, the letter clutched between both her hands tightly as if it’s going to disappear if she lets it go and she’ll be left here looking like an idiot. “I didn’t read it when you sent it because I didn’t know what it was gonna say and I didn’t want to get my heart broken all over again. I still don’t.” It’s hard to picture this going any way other than an inevitable heartbreak, though, and the urge to turn on her heel and run out again begins to bubble in the pit of her stomach. “I love you, Andy, but I can’t -- I can’t do this again if I’m gonna keep being your second choice. It’s not fair to me.” The words are out before she’s had a chance to think about the repercussions of them, but it’s too late to take them back now.

ANDY

He’s convinced this is all one fucked up dream — One that started at the party and is continuing now, with Rowan now standing in his front room. Andy hasn’t seen Rowan in over six months, and now, twice in one night. There’s something exciting about having her here, a part of him wanting to show her that he’s actually making progress. A hand rubs at the back of his neck, the fact that he’d only just woke up being the only thing keeping him from freaking out over the fact that she is here. “You don’t have to apologize.” Andy speaks softly, pushing his hair off his forehead. “If it didn’t happen then, it would’a happened somewhere else.” It’s the truth — any reunion between them was bound to mirror earlier that night, despite any hopes he had. The thought doesn’t last long, once his eyes drift back to the letter in her hands. Andy had imagined this conversation a thousand times over, but it never included Rowan showing up at his door in the middle of the night. He stays quiet as she speaks, trying to ignore the way his heart skips at the words — “You love me?” Three words slip past his lips before he can stop himself, having assumed the only feeling she held for him being something between hate and resentment. He can practically hear his therapist’s voice now, telling him this is what he’d been hoping for. There was no point in trying to say anything to her at the party, but now — Maybe they’ll have a chance for closure, a honest conversation, something that’ll help even if he never sees her again. “No, it’s not.” He agrees, a frown of his own at his lips. “I told you, you’re the only thing that ever mattered to me. I just — I did a real shit job showing it.” It’s an oversimplified version of their history, but the feeling of his heart slamming against his chest isn’t making it easy to get the words out.

“I meant it. Every word of it.” He nods to the letter in her hands, feeling exposed but forcing himself to keep going. “I love you. I let myself get in the way of it. I can’t undo any of it, but — Fuck, man.” He pauses, guilt over the last few years threatening to drown him. “I’m sorry. I know it probably doesn’t mean much to you now, but I am.” This is all foreign territory, easier written down on notebook paper instead of said face to face. “I don’t know what to uh, do from here — But I wanted to make sure you at least knew that.”

ROWAN

Rowan doesn’t acknowledge when he tells her she doesn’t have to apologize. She knows that she doesn’t -- her thoughts and feelings are justified after years of the games they’ve played with each other, but she still can’t help but feel bad that she’d chosen tonight of all nights to bring it all to the surface. It’s supposed to be a celebration for him and she hadn’t gone there with plans of starting something -- though she can’t deny a selfish, vindictive part of her had brought Tyson for no reason other than to try and prove she had moved on -- but it had all been so overwhelming she hadn’t been able to stop herself. The surprise in Andy’s voice has her stopping in her tracks, brows furrowing at his question. You love me? Her head tilts with confusion because she has no idea how he couldn’t have known. It only occurs to her then that she’s never actually told him before. “I -- Yeah. Of course I do. I thought you knew.” It had seemed so obvious to her all of those years, why else would she have kept coming back time after time? Why else would she have tried so hard? When Andy tells her he loves her too she doesn’t quite know how to react to it. She feels like she’s spent so many years wanting to hear him say these things to her, and now that he finally is… she can’t help but be on guard about it all. So she simply nods, her lips pursing together momentarily. “I thought you hated me.” The admission comes out quieter than she would like it to, having envisioned this conversation as something far more volatile in her head a million times but they seem to have moved past that phase and into something softer, something more vulnerable. “That was the only way I could make any of the last few years make sense. That I was just… Convenient.” Her stomach twists uncomfortably as she speaks, knowing that it may not be what Andy wants to hear but it’s what she needs to say.

#v: nashville.#nash: andy.

0 notes

dailynewswebsite · 4 years

Text

BBC presenters share their lockdown entertainment tips

Haprz Kaur, Will Gompertz, Hannah Peel and Mark Radcliffe

With England in lockdown once more, and plenty of others elements of the UK enduring extreme restrictions, folks need to movie, books, music, on-line artwork, podcasts and extra for his or her cultural kicks.

Right here, BBC presenters and journalists share their lockdown picks. It is an eclectic checklist of options for the place to look subsequent when you fancy some inspiration.

Mark Radcliffe

Veteran broadcaster Mark Radcliffe presents BBC Radio 2’s Folks Present and 6 Music’s weekend chat and music present Radcliffe and Maconie .

The Trial Of The Chicago 7 (Netflix)

youtube

I like a courtroom drama, I have to say. For individuals who do not know the Chicago 7, they had been college students and hippies and anti-Vietnam protesters who picketed on the 1968 Democratic Occasion Conference and had been arrested for inciting riots.

For those who do not forget that 12 months, it was a extremely highly-charged time. Martin Luther King was assassinated in April, after which Bobby Kennedy in June – so that is a rare snapshot of these instances. It nonetheless has a resonance, significantly in how the one black defendant is handled. Within the time of Black Lives Matter and the George Floyd protests, it reminds you that not the whole lot has modified, by a great distance.

Shuggie Bain by Douglas Stuart (Picador books)

That is set within the time of Thatcherism, and it is a tragic story of this younger lad Shuggie Bain, who’s defending and caring for an alcoholic mom, dwelling in excessive poverty. It is moderately Thomas Hardy-esque, in that everyone seems to be doomed to disappointment or dying, but it surely feels very actual. And just like the movie, one suspects life hasn’t modified very a lot for lots of people.

The novel is nominated for the Booker Prize, though I do not typically take that as an enormous advice. I’ve actually introduced Booker-winning novels and thought they had been dreadful.

The Queen’s Gambit (Netflix)

youtube

Anya Taylor-Pleasure performs Beth Harman, who’s in an orphanage at first of the movie, and is intrigued by the janitor who performs chess. He step by step agrees to show her and it seems she’s an absolute prodigy. It is based mostly on a novel by somebody referred to as Walter Tevis but it surely feels prefer it should be true. It is in regards to the connections you make as an orphan – friendships and connections and adoption. And there is plenty of chess.

Story continues

The truth is, we began taking part in chess at house, impressed by it, and my spouse is miles higher than me and she will see a number of strikes forward. We do not play anymore. It obtained too annoying.

Harpz Kaur

The Asian Community presenter has hosted its breakfast present since 2017, having joined the station in 2015 from neighborhood radio.

Strictly Come Dancing (BBC One, iPlayer)

Watching my subsequent door neighbour Clara [Amfo] completely bossing it on display is superb. I am an enormous fan of BBC One’s Strictly Come Dancing anyway, however seeing Clara shine like a Queen is nice. Rooting for her little doubt. And I often discover something music or dance associated to be therapeutic for me. It is enjoyable, a straightforward watch and it is an effective way to wind down. Seize some munchies and sit on the couch whereas having your individual social gathering. It is excellent.

Made In Heaven (Amazon Prime)

youtube

I’ve additionally simply completed watching season certainly one of Made In Heaven. A few colleagues have been that means to get me into it and now I am hooked. It is extra of a drama sequence, but it surely’s so good and retains you on the sting of your seat on the finish of each episode. Cannot wait to begin the second season.

Sister Sister (Netflix)

And thirdly, I am watching Sister Sister, a 1990s US sitcom about twins Tia and Tamera who had been separated at beginning and reunite 14 years later. It is introduced again my youth. And you may by no means get sufficient. For those who grew up watching Tia and Tamera, you already understand how good it’s. For those who fancy a giggle, put them on.”

Bobby Friction

DJ Friction has been on the BBC airwaves since 2002, and is now presenting the Asian Community’s night present.

House movies (YouTube)

It is the largest type of escapism – neglect pandemics, let’s discuss 1,000-year journeys to different galaxies.

He devours YouTube sequence by scientists and futurists John Michael Godier and Isaac Arthur, who use science reality to look at what may truly be doable past Earth.

They will swing between stuff that is taking place in our photo voltaic system to actual mad stuff like, what is going to the universe appear to be a trillion years from now? After which they will break it down utilizing actual physics and actual science.

The Actual Housewives of America (Sky, ITV Be, Amazon Prime Video)

youtube

I do not watch a lot TV or actuality exhibits,” says Friction. “However I fell into this gap of watching The Actual Housewives of Atlanta and The Actual Housewives of Potomac. It wasn’t till the summer season that I went, ‘Wait a minute, they’re the one two actuality exhibits from that franchise that function black girls. Each different present options white girls.

I am subconsciously coping with Black Lives Matter, race and the whole lot that is taking place this 12 months through these actuality exhibits. Imagine me, I’ve fallen so deep into them. Anybody who asks a query in regards to the seasons or the episodes, I’ve the reply.

The Beatles

Friction has been rediscovering The Beatles by listening to all their albums back-to-back once more.

“I simply obtained again into it and thought, my God, how did these guys write practically each style of music that we’re nonetheless listening to? And also you’re telling me they launched The White Album and Yellow Submarine and Sgt Pepper inside the area of 18 months? It is ridiculous.”

Will Gompertz

Will Gompertz has been arts editor for BBC Information since 2009 and earlier than that was a director on the Tate Gallery.

What I Love (podcast)

I am loving this podcast, introduced by the award-winning theatre director Ian Rickson. It has a easy format: one visitor with whom Rickson has labored selects three issues she or he loves. Chiwetel Ejiofor included a Michael Kiwanuka tune, Kae Tempest picked a e book by William Blake. Good listening.

Strata: William Smith’s Geological Maps (Thames & Hudson)

Some books are lovely, others are enlightening. Strata is each. Full of beautiful illustrations, it presents the work of William Smith, a 17th Century geologist, who was the primary individual to comprehensively map the earth beneath our toes. It is the most effective non-fiction e book I’ve learn in a very long time.

Name My Agent (Netflix)

French TV would not get that a lot consideration for some purpose – however they produce some nice programmes. Spiral is the most effective police procedural on telly, whereas Name My Agent is the right lockdown escape: uptight actor’s brokers coping with uptight actors in a Paris workplace the place they find yourself both bickering or sleeping with one another. Or each. Tres bon!

Hannah Peel

Musician Hannah Peel presents late-night Radio three present Evening Tracks, which ranges from classical to up to date music. She was Emmy-nominated final 12 months for her soundtrack for HBO’s Video games of Thrones: The Final Watch.

Notes On Blindness (Obtain, Netflix)

youtube

This can be a documentary in regards to the author John Hull, who went blind simply earlier than the beginning of his son and began to make a diary of audio cassettes. Within the movie you hear all of the precise recording, and it is simply unimaginable.

You are immersed in a world of sound, as a substitute of being completely bombarded with visible info. It sounds prefer it must be a podcast, but it surely actually works as a movie – delving into the thoughts and the physique and desires and reminiscence. I feel it is a masterpiece.

Bandcamp (Unbiased music retailer)

I am Bandcamp all the best way, for the whole lot. They do an incredible factor as soon as a month referred to as Bandcamp Friday, the place each artist will get 100% of the revenue on their merchandise or downloads or CD gross sales. It is the one place that does that within the music business.

The very last thing I purchased was a compilation by a beautiful little indie label referred to as Salmon Universe, who put out plenty of ambient, digital music. I like compilations since you’re led to artists from all internationally, from Ohio to Japan. It is superb.

Islands (RTÉ podcast)

That is made by the world-renowned sound recordist Chris Watson, who’s teamed up with the author/presenter Luke Clancy to take a journey throughout the atlas of distant islands, from Ross Island to the Galapagos to the probably legendary isle of HyBrasil.

It is filled with tales and sounds, and it is lovely. I similar to the best way you need to use podcasts to specific one thing emotional, moderately than factual. So that you get a way of ethereal escapism inside that.

Mark Savage

Mark has been the BBC’s music reporter since 2015, and introduced 6 Music’s Historical past of Video Sport Music final 12 months.

Ted Lasso (Apple TV)

youtube

After Schitt’s Creek ended, I used to be desperately trying to find a TV present that hit the identical candy spot of belly-laughs and heart-warming humour. That is that present.

Starring Jason Sudeikis, it tells the story of an American Soccer coach who involves London to supervise a fictional Premiership workforce, regardless of figuring out nothing about soccer. Unbeknownst to him, the membership’s proprietor (performed with scrumptious relish by Hannah Waddingham) is making an attempt to get the workforce relegated to spite her adulterous husband. I will not spoil the plot, however the present’s relentlessly optimistic tone is simply what I wanted in lockdown.

Pikmin three Deluxe (Nintendo)

Pikmin is not as well-known as Nintendo’s larger franchises, like Mario and Zelda, but it surely’s been made with simply as a lot care and a spotlight to element. You play as a crew of astronauts, stranded on a hostile planet, who need to enlist a crop of plant-like creatures to assist them discover the lacking elements of their spaceship.

You command as much as 100 of the little Pikmin, every of whom have completely different talents (some are fighters, some are swimmers, others are impervious to electrical energy) to resolve a bunch of more and more difficult puzzles towards a time restrict. It is concurrently enjoyable and panic-inducing; however I have been specializing in finishing the much less worrying problem mode with my 10-year-old, who simply likes throwing the Pikmin round and laughing at their cute noises.

Dua Lipa – Future Nostalgia (Warner Music)

youtube

Rush-released in the beginning of the primary lockdown, that is nonetheless my favorite document of the 12 months. A sweat-glistened hymn to the dancefloor, it by no means fails to raise my temper.

The album is getting the dwell therapy later this month, with a digital gig that is been dubbed Studio 2054 – with Dua promising (deep breath) “a kaledioscopic, rocket-fuelled, journey by way of time, area, mirrorballs, curler discos, bucket hats, belting beats, throbbing basslines and an absolute slam-dunk of the most effective instances in international membership tradition”. See you there. Hotpants elective.

Elizabeth Alker

The BBC Radio three broadcaster presents late-night present Unclassified, which showcases music by composers who may need a classical background but in addition draw from pop, rock, jazz, and experimental music.

Ms Ice Sandwich by Mieko Kawakami (Pushkin Press)

The Japanese writer’s novella is evocative however breezy, conversational and unsentimental. She’s coping with the difficulties and complexity of human life however in a extremely relatable, heat and humorous method.

It is in regards to the relationship between an adolescent and their mom. It is a coming-of-age story and in regards to the anxieties of being a youngster, however you get to see it from either side. You’ll be able to sense what the mom’s feeling as properly. She’s a fortune teller and their grandma’s ailing upstairs. It is a household story about feminine identification in Japan.

Fats Out Fest (YouTube)

The annual music competition from Salford-based underground and different promoters, Fats Out Fest occurred dwell on-line this 12 months, and they’re now placing units on YouTube each Friday over the subsequent month.

They actually do take it to the sting. On 20 November they’re broadcasting Lone Taxidermist – her exhibits are wild. It is efficiency artwork in addition to music. Her new present Marra begins along with her singing alongside to a cattle market. An precise cattle market. Her voice is synced with the auctioneer and Maxine Peake is within the video. It is on the market.

Radiophrenia (Streaming)

Radiophrenia is a Glasgow sound artwork radio station that is streaming 24/7 till 22 November. I used to be listening to an Italian sound artist referred to as Tobia Bandini. He’d interviewed all these folks asking for his or her response to the apocalypse after which he’d combine their tales – they’re all in Italian – with digital soundscapes.

If you wish to tune out of the information then this can be a very nice place to flee to. There’s all types in there, and plenty of it’s simply actually pleasing and fairly hypnotic.

Observe us on Fb, or on Twitter @BBCNewsEnts. When you have a narrative suggestion e mail [email protected].

from Growth News https://growthnews.in/bbc-presenters-share-their-lockdown-entertainment-tips/ via https://growthnews.in

#Growth News

0 notes

jbuffyangel · 7 years

Text

Rebuilt: Arrow 5x22 Review (Missing)

"Missing" was amazing! Emotional and action packed with zinging dialogue.

What struck me most was how full circle it was. "Missing" sets up the heroes versus villains battle that will come to fruition in the finale, but it also kicks off the basic question Oliver must ask: What makes a hero? What makes a villain? Those concepts are not always rigid. In fact, the very essence of hero and villain is fluid.

Oh... and did I mention there's an Olicity reunion scene?

Let's dig in...

Olicity and OTA

The Throwing Star killer is in prison and Oliver Queen's approval ratings are in the 70th percentile. (That's how you know it's TV. If there's a politician in my lifetime with that high of an approval rating I'm just assuming it's the apocalypse.) Seeing both personas, Oliver and the Green Arrow, get the credit each deserves and Oliver being treated for the hero HE IS makes me want to run up mountains and sing songs.

The battle is won. Let’s party.

Quentin wishes Oliver a happy birthday because heart strings.

Source: olivergifs

Did y'all notice the size of that gift? Think about where these men began and where they are now. What I love about Oliver and Quentin is how similar they are. Both men are hard shells, but once you crack it it's nothing but ooey gooey center. Oliver has earned Quentin's respect, trust and forgiveness. Quentin sees Oliver as the honorable man he is and put a motherf*****bow on it. IT MAKES ME FEEL THINGS Y'ALL.

Thea and Oliver take a minute to recap her emotional trajectory. They recall the last time Arrow celebrated a birthday - Thea's 18th birthday. Do you remember? It was a lifetime ago. Thea got a new car, did some Vertigo and crashed it. Good times.

But it led to THIS!!!!!

I miss Roy.

Anyways, Oliver talks about how far Thea has come because he reads my mind. Thea laments that she doesn't think she's come quite far enough. Oh... my sweet honey child. Let the pain go!

I am all ready to give Thea a pep talk, but Oliver "I Am 32 And Emotional Evolved" Queen steps up to the plate.

Source: olivergifs

Tear.

Oliver Queen, you have been through some shit but you have seen the light my dear boy. This is hard earned character growth. Now go get your girl.

Thea wants to take Oliver out for his birthday. QUEEN SIBILINGS FOREVER. Oliver has plans. Oh? You don't say?

"Please say not Susan Williams."

Thea summed up Susan William's entire character arc for me in a single sentence. And did I almost see a shudder come from Oliver? Perhaps it's wishful thinking, but he at least gave a good awkward stammer. In fact, no dear sister, dinner is with Felicity Smoak. You know, the human equivalent of a rainbow, forever light of Oliver Queen's life, future mother of his children and your nieces and nephews. That Felicity Smoak.

As for Susan Williams, come Thea girl, pull up a chair because you have MISSED THINGS. Particularly the glorious break up in which Oliver dumps Susan's ass because, once again, he's not sure he can have a relationship and be the Green Arrow. Meanwhile, Felicity asks him over for dinner and homeboy falls over himself sprinting to the loft, but that's just details. I totally believed him about Susan. It was all concern about safety, balance, blah blah. Nothing to do with the urge to chew his arm off post coitus.

I'm sorry. The snark just flows. I can't stop it.

Thea wants to know if it's a date.

Source: amanitacaplan

She was always with us fandom. Thea never lost faith. Check her pocket. I half expected Thea to hand Oliver Moira's ring, slap him on the back and say, "Go get her big fella." Also, somebody needs to fic this scenario.

Oliver plays it casual. Date? Pfft. What date? It's not a date.

Maybe it's a date. Could it be a date? Dear God, let it be a date. Oliver is praying to the higher power like Are You There God? It's me, Margaret.

Thea doesn't believe him. Nobody believes you Oliver. You lack zero chill with Felicity. The heart eyes run deep my friend. Just embrace it. You can't change.

Of course, it's the surprise party which leads to Oliver putting Curtis on his back. This never gets old. A+ comedic reactions from everyone involved.

Source: sharingmyworld

Oliver blows out the candles on his LORD MESA cake.

Source: legendsofcomics

The shout out to this man, who is an genius and absolute gift to this fandom, is so freaking earned. I cheered. @lordmesa-art brings us all a lot of joy with his artistry. He absolutely needs to be Arrow canon. I love when Arrow goes meta. There's a Green Arrow with the #6 the arrows in the target - a celebration for their Season 6 renewal of course. Take that haters! Don't bitch at me about ratings. Seriously. Enough. The explanation for the 6 is Felicity ordered the cake for a six year old. She thought a Green Arrow cake for a grown man would raise alarm bells. That... makes a lot of sense actually. Our girl is so smart.

So why is Arrow celebrating Oliver Queen's birthday now after all these years? It's not simply because there's a lull in the action. This is about how far Oliver Queen has come, especially in these last few episodes. When Oliver came home he wanted to keep everyone he loved at arm's length. He shut down the very essence of who he is, his humanity, because Oliver believed it was required to protect those he loves, save the city and honor his father. In the end, Oliver discovered the exact opposite was required to be the Green Arrow.

He had to open himself up to family

friendship

and love

to become someone else... something else. That's how he took the darkness used it for light.

It hurt. A lot. Oliver has been to hell and back. He's faced the very worst parts of himself and came out the other side.

Oliver has learned to honor truth over lies, team work over control, love over loneliness and forgiveness over self hatred. These past five years, Oliver has learned how to choose home over the island. He's not just surviving. Oliver Queen is living. I cannot think of a better way to celebrate that evolution than his 32nd birthday. Oliver has been reborn.

Source: legendsofcomics

Everyone takes a moment to talk about what they are going to do with their summer vacations. Television shows are set up exactly like school. Where is the lie? Diggle wants to go fishing with JJ. Curtis wants to go to Florence. And Felicity...

Source: felicitys

The subtle look she shoots Oliver is not so subtle.

If you would like to see a man become a rainbow - this is what it looks like.

As for Oliver, he just wants some socks.

Source: bazingagubicorn

Source: felicitys (I love this gif)

What’s to know people? He's gonna stop at Target, grab some socks and condoms, on the way to a night under the stars with Felicity Smoak. He's a simple man. What else does Oliver need when he has his whole world looking back at him?

Picking up on the sexual tension/feels overload Team Arrow makes themselves scarce. Well, except for Curtis. He pulls up a chair and grabs a bowl of popcorn. This on top of his epic shipper spiral post party.

Source:felicityssoliver

Curtis is me on a deeply spiritual level. Ship it hard my brother.

Diggle, Captain of the Olicity ship, actually wants to make this reunion to happen though so he physically removes Curtis.

Source:oliverdant

And we're here.

Source: legendsofcomics

When Arrow began Season 4 they had every intention of breaking Oliver and Felicity up. The moment Oliver lied about William to Felicity in 4x08 we knew that's where we were headed. However, I always believed Olicity would find their way back to one another. Arrow has been slowly and steadily rebuilding what they broke. It has been a long and hard road, but they are here. We are here.

Find My Way Back by Eric Arjes

One step closer

Closer to the light

No matter where we're going

I'll be by your side

And everything we used to know

Crashed into the great unknown

One step closer

We're gonna be alright

I love how simple this moment is. Love feels like an inertia out of our control, but the truth is, it is a choice. For those wondering how Olicity could ever get back together, it always boiled down to this: once Oliver and Felicity faced their issues, dug deep and dig the work, then all that remains is the simple choice to begin again. Love isn't always marked by a lot of fan fair. Most of the time, it's the quiet moments that define you. The moments when you look into the eyes of the person you love and say yes. Yes to trying again, to forgiveness, to rebuilding what was broken... one step at a time.

Source: amanitacaplan

Oliver came to the loft, dressed in a suit, hoping this was that moment but uncertain if it was. Felicity acknowledges the ruse and team's desire to give them alone time because of it. All of Team Arrow just wants them to have all the babies.

I love how bold Oliver is in this moment. My boy gets his flirt on. He wasn't certain what the dinner meant, if it was about alone time for them, so he just... ASKS. It's so freaking fantastic. There was a time when Oliver would have talked around something like this, or choose not to address it or simply let her go. Not this time. Not ever again.

Oliver stumbles at the word date, his nerves getting the best of him, and I believe he didn't want to put too much pressure on Felicity. However, this is a man who isn't afraid. This is open and honest communication. He doesn't hide what he was hoping dinner meant. Oliver is charging through that door Felicity opened in 5x20.

And Felicity, so sweetly and with a gentle little wink, confirms Oliver's hope because it's her hope too. Felicity says yes to trying again, but slowly. There's no rush to the altar here. She wants to be sure they are solid, so they never break up again. That means taking things slow. A walk under the stars, hand in hand, one step at a time, together.

This exquisite, beautiful, warm and loving light lives in Oliver Queen and Felicity always harnesses it. I often say Oliver Queen is the sun the other characters revolve around. With Felicity's answer, Oliver becomes pure sunshine.

And there it is.

The moment David Ramsey promised at HVFF. The moment Marc confirmed we were building towards in July. A simple, quiet, open, honest, forgiving, and most of all loving, yes. This is how you repair what is broken. This is Olicity rebuilt.

I was so happy with 5x20. It was everything I ever wanted from Oliver and Felicity for the past five years. Whatever came after was always just going to be icing on the cake for me. What I love about this moment is how builds off of everything 5x20 established so perfectly. The moment Oliver celebrates his life with his family, he and Felicity decide to start their lives together again. If I'm being honest, it's satisfying AF. This moment is EARNED y'all.

Cause even underneath the waves

I'll be holding on to you

And even if you slip away

I'll be there to fall into the dark

To chase your heart

No distance could ever tear us apart

There's nothing that I wouldn't do

I'll find my way back to you

Felicity senses Oliver isn't quite at ease and questions him about it.

Oliver immediately leaps to the conclusion that she's talking about them (because that's all he can process right now) and jokes about dating his ex-fiancé.

THIS CUPCAKE. He's so scared to put an official label on it, but he wants to so desperately.

No Oliver, you love sick fool. It's not hypothetical. This is real. Embrace the joy my friend. She came back to you.

I expect the fandom to abuse this gif.

Source: gothsmoak

Oliver learning how to relax while being the Green Arrow is still a skill he has to master (*cough*fivemonthtimejump*cough*)

and I love how Felicity encourages him to chillax - bad socks and all.

So let's talk about the tie loosening. I refuse to see that as anything but Felicity beginning to undress Oliver right then and there. Coupled with night under the stars and eye sex,

Source: olicityloyalty

I feel it's pretty clear where Felicity thinks the next step should be.

Alright, it's pretty clear where I think the next step should be.

I'm not going to argue that Oliver doesn't frequently need his bottle uncorked, but he also has great instincts. These instincts kept him alive for the last ten years, they are almost other worldly. They also make him a pain in the ass too, but overall his instinces are helpful. Oliver knows something is up in his gut. It's no different than feeling a rocket a hair trigger before it explodes or someone sneaking up behind him. But he wanted to believe. Oliver wanted to war to be over, to be happy and just live so he let his guard down. He ignored his gut.

The gun scene was as adorable as I hoped it was,

but I wasn't anticipating yet another emotional reconnecting moment between Oliver and Felicity. Dinah and Curtis are gone and Felicity is rightly concerned about the League of Assassins. They be crazy. So, our girl is ready to hunker down and operate comms remotely. Oliver's response signals just how far he's come and how much he's grown.

Source: oliverxfelicity

Felicity stays put. Right next to him. Exactly where he can see her. Didn't you love the part where Oliver reassures bae that Talia Al Ghul and her LOA flunkies can bring it? Oliver will handle business. Felicity doesn't need to be afraid. He won't let anything happen to her.

Confidence is so sexy in a man.

Oliver knows he needs Felicity by his side if he has any chance of stopping Chase. He's not pushing her away. He's not trying to handle everything on his own. Oliver is admitting he needs Felicity's help. He needs HER.

It seems Oliver isn't the only one looking for a little firmer confirmation on status. Felicity wants to know if Oliver's motivations are simply tactical or is there a little more to it? Girl... you are his lobster. Come on now.

Source: oliverxfelicity

Oliver immediately tells Felicity the truth which is OF COURSE it's not just tactical. Oliver ignored his gut and not only is his team in danger, but so is his son.

Source: klarolicityswan

I love how William is just an open, honest and natural subject for Olicity now. Felicity tries to reassure him, but Oliver rightly corrects her out that while her assurances are appreciated there's no way either of them can know for certain if William is safe. And since Chase is crazy pants, Oliver feels it's highly unlikely that he is. (Gotta trust those parental instincts Oliver. They are seldom wrong.) Essentially, Oliver is telling Felicity that by allowing those he loves out of his sight made them vulnerable to Chase. He will not make that mistake with her. HE. WILL. NEVER. LET. HER. GO. AGAIN. Y'all I am emotional.

Except... then Quentin and Thea are taken. What follows is yet ANOTHER emotional scene not only with Oliver and Felicity, but with Diggle. Oliver finally realizes that Chase is taking away his strength, his team, to leverage his freedom. Oliver wants Diggle and Felicity to get out of town, which is meant with strong opposition particularly by Diggle. John will not abandon Oliver, but Oliver doesn't look at it that way. Chase is slowly picking off Team Arrow one by one. Felicity and John are the only two left and they are the foundation of the team. Oliver operates on instinct, but he fears that instinct is what is putting Diggle and Felicity in danger. Oliver depends on John and Felicity. If Chase threatens them, and he will, Oliver's instinct is to pull Diggle and Felicity close. His instinct was to send Thea, Quentin and William away. His instinct was to allow Curtis, Rene and Dinah to operate business as usual. Every choice, every instinct, Oliver has followed Chase has used against him. So, Oliver is mixing it up. He's going to directly opposite of what his heart tells him to do and send John and Felicity away.

Felicity doesn't want to leave. She's worried about Oliver. So, now it's time for Oliver to reassure her. If he's not worried about her, then he can focus on Chase and finding the others. If Felicity leaves then he'll be safer. This argument proves how well Oliver knows Felicity. She won't put her safety above Oliver's, but she will listen to him if she believes this keeps him safe.

Source: tinaday3w

But even then, neither of them wants to let go. They hold hands like they've done many times before,

as circumstance forces them to separate,

their eyes conveying everything they are feeling in the moment-

that be apart is the last thing either of them wants.

Source: gothsmoak

The problem is, Chase wants Oliver to doubt his instincts. He wants him to rethink everything that feels right. As Diggle and Felicity are driving away from the city, Felicity's instincts tell her they were wrong. They've over thought this. They should have never left him alone. SHE should never have left him.

Felicity's right. She's always right. A LOA flunkie shows up with two swords which leads to a hilarious Delicity moment as they recall their encounter with Isobel Rochev.

Source: westallenolicitygifs

Emily Bett Rickards and David Ramsey's comedic timing is always stellar. I need more. All the time more.

Unfortunately, car versus murderous woman doesn't go exactly like it did with Isobel Rochev. Diggle and Felicity's car crashes and then IT EXPLODES. Not gonna lie, I screamed many screams.

DO NOT DO THAT TO ME MARC GUGGENHEIM. THOSE ARE MY CHILDREN. WE DO NOT BLOW UP DIGGLE AND FELICITY'S CAR. THERE ARE RULES ABOUT THAT SORT OF THING.

But they are totes fine, so I could breathe again. I mean... they aren't ever going to kill these two, but I'll never be okay with the threats of it. Unfortunately, Diggle up against several LOA members isn't a fair fight even with those bowling balls for arms. Diggle and Felicty are taken... and Oliver is left to fight Chase and save everyone he loves alone.

Source: legends-of-today

OR IS HE ALONE?

Malcolm Merlyn

My hatred of Malcolm Merlyn runs deep.

Primarily because Malcolm sees himself as the hero and not the villain. This began over love for Malcolm. He was once a good and loving husband and father. Losing Rebecca shattered the man Merlyn was and he forged himself into someone else... something else. Love beget grief. Grief beget revenge. Revenge beget a lust for power. At every turn, Merlyn has operated in his own self interest, but firmly believed they were righteous and for the greater good. Merlyn unleashes evil and believes it is love. That's the level of sociopath we are dealing with here.

Merlyn is the reason Robert Queen died.

He's the reason Oliver ended up on that island.

He killed Tommy.

He used his OWN DAUGHTER

as the weapon to kill Sara Lance.

Merlyn sent Oliver into a death trap into Season 3 to save his own hide.

He put Thea in Ra's Al Ghul's cross hairs, which is how she wound up on a ventilator.

Merlyn served William up to Damien Darhk like cheese and crackers.

He was an active participate in Laurel's death (I'm not really mad about that though, but let's just add it to the list).

All of these crimes have gone unanswered on Arrow. Essentially unpunished. Sorry folks, a hand doesn't cut it for me. Ha! Cut it. Get it?

There's a reckoning coming Malcolm Merlyn and it is long past time.

We haven't seen much of Malcolm Merlyn this season and I think it was a wise choice. The character, in my mind, is the new LL and has run his course. If they are bringing him back then it needs to be for an intended purpose and Arrow made that purpose wildly clear.

Merlyn has been busy this year though - on Legends of Tomorrow as part of the Legion of Doom. He partnered with Damien Darhk and Eobard Thawne to alternate time and change the world to their liking. However, I was always struck by what that meant for Malcolm. Both Damien and Eobard were after power essentially, but not Merlyn. His altered reality meant Rebecca and Tommy were alive and Thea adored him. He's still Merlyn though - he got revenge on Nyssa Al Ghul by making her life a closeted life in Ohio. Malcolm admitted to Sara however what he was searching for: a clean slate. He wanted all his mistakes, the pain and the death that came with them, jus wiped away. He didn't care if it wasn't real. What Malcolm wanted is redemption without the sacrifice.

So, this redemption arc was kicked off but if you weren't watching Legends then you didn't see it. Except, what does redemption really mean for Malcolm Merlyn? Is it really achievable? Yes, I think redemption is possible for all characters, but the desire has to be there. The willingness to make a sacrifice is what counts. That's why Merlyn's arc on Legends ultimately failed. He wasn't willing to do what is necessary to really make amends.

What is necessary isn't erasing all that he's done. It's facing it. It's making a different choice. Essentially, that's the only difference separating a hero from a villain - choices. It's why it's such a fluid concept. A hero can become the villain as easily as the villain can become the hero. While I doubt I will ever be able to call Malcolm Merlyn a hero, I do believe Arrow is setting him up to make a sacrifice. Which is the essence of heroism and what is required for redemption.

Source: zorro-rita

But first we gots to hash out some issues. Oliver and Merlyn go toe to toe over a lot of things, but first up is William. Oliver is still pretty ticked over Merlyn handing his son over to Damien Darhk. Oliver used his angry voice talking about his son. It felt warm suddenly.

Merlyn's concern is Thea. Malcolm never loved Tommy the way he should have. Tommy was never more important than his revenge. He rejected Tommy in every way. However, Merlyn's arc on Legends finally showed a desire to go back and change that, which we never saw before. Merlyn is prepared to do what is necessary to save his daughter. Even if it means helping his enemy.

And Oliver isn't exactly in a position to refuse his help. I know some may have issues with Oliver teaming up with his enemies like Malcolm Merlyn and Slade Wilson, but I love it. It's incredibly full circle. Oliver has spent years building this family. It's pretty fantastic that to save his family he must work with all the villains who've tried to destroy it over the years.

Oliver and Malcolm have it out giving into Chase's demands. Merlyn is flabbergasted that Chase even needed to take Felicity and Diggle. He felt Thea was sufficient motivation. He's prepared to do whatever is necessary to save his child - a concept Oliver should be more familiar with now that he has William. However, Oliver's concerns run deeper than Chase not holding up his end of the bargain (something Merlyn is an expert it). Once again he worries that his personal connections are making him vulnerable. He has to become something else to protect them and he will never be free of it. Oliver will never be free of the darkness.

And here we go again.

This is an old tune from Oliver Queen. I won't harp on him too much. Chase did manage to take everyone he loves, so I'm not entirely shocked Oliver has a brief moment in which he reverts to form.

Source: dailydcheroes

This might be the single greatest line Merlyn has ever spoken and one of the truest things ever said about Oliver Queen. My precious big dumb oak tree.

Merlyn: Human connections are what keep us human. It is sad that it's a sociopath who is gonna have to point this out to you. You can't live on an island Oliver. You've already tried. You are always going to have people in your life, Oliver. They will always need you. For better or worse. Baggage and all. And if you can't accept that then your past is going to stay your anchor.

Round. Of. Applause.

I hate the bastard, but when he's right he's right. It sounds completely out of character for Merlyn, but does make some sense given his arc on Legends. Merlyn pushed away human connection after Rebecca died and he has FINALLY learned the cost for those sins. If Oliver wants to beat Chase, and Merlyn's goal is to beat Chase in order to save Thea, then both of them have to do things differently - but especially Oliver.

He's tried it the other way before. Oliver tried to go it alone. That "something else" never quite measured up into what was needed until he let people back into his heart. Until he allowed his humanity back in. There will never be a time where Oliver doesn't have people he cares about. He cannot shut off. He cannot isolate himself. He will lose. This much is fact. Nor can he allow the darkness to take the driver's seat. Oliver will lose the part of himself that makes him human - everything Diggle, Felicity, Thea and the team love about him. Then he'll be left alone again. It's a cycle. The only way to break it is to become SOMETHING ELSE. Be different. Embrace his humanity. Hold to those connections. That's how he wins.

And really, nobody knows this better than Malcolm Merlyn because doing the direct opposite is how he lost everything that mattered. Malcolm Merlyn is the one who sent Oliver to the island. So it's fitting that he is finally helping Oliver get off it. All it takes is a different choice and the villain can become a hero.

Even Malcolm Merlyn is rebuilding what he broke, which means... Malcolm Merlyn is going to die. I am absolute on this. They've set it up perfectly, what's more, I believe it needs to happen. Thea is still holding on to the fear that she's a monster - just like her father. What greater gift can Merlyn give Thea than by showing her the monster of her life can choose to do the right thing? Merlyn's death pays the price he's always avoided. It also may be the very thing Thea needs to be free from the past and find hope in herself again.

William

William plays an extremely integral role in "Missing" because, as Oliver explains:

Source: olivergifs

Arrow was never about one thing. It was never just about LL, L*uriver , Olicity or OTA. I think no matter which spectrum of fandom we're on, if we only focus one or two segments of the story then it leaves the potential to miss very important pieces that ultimately feed the segments we care about.

Arrow, at its core, is about family. This story began with a father and a son. We are here because of Robert Queen's sins and because of the love and faith he had in his son. For ten years, Oliver has been struggling with his father's legacy, what his dying wish truly meant and the guilt of Robert's death. Oliver shouldered the weight of Robert's sins while being weighed down by his own.

The next step in Oliver's evolution is to no longer just be the son. He must become the father. The point of the legacy theme is to rebuild what was broken so many years ago. Oliver's mission cannot be only focused on Robert Queen anymore. It has to grow beyond the past and look to the future.

William.

Oliver is right. William is the purest part of him. He retains the innocence Oliver lost all those years ago on the boat. More than anything, Oliver wants his son to keep that innocence. He wants him to be safe and untouched by the darkness both Oliver and Robert have battled. But no matter where William is, he will always be Oliver Queen's son. He will always be Robert Queen's grandson. William will always be part of this family and part of this cycle. If Oliver wants to break it, if he wants to save William from paying for his sins (like Oliver paid for his father's sins), then he has to become someone else.... something else.

Source: olivergifs

This scene is heartbreaking. Stephen Amell makes me feel all the feels.

All Oliver wanted was to keep his boy safe. To make sure William never became like him. Chase took that away. So, now William is the one on the boat. He's trapped in a world he doesn't understand and paying for sins that are not his fault.

Robert tried to stop it. He tried to protect Oliver from his sins. He failed. All Robert could offer Oliver in the end was the chance to survive and to do it better.

This is the another chance to do it differently. To do it better. Maybe the most important chance. Oliver can no longer be mired down in the past.

Source: olivergifs

Adrian Chase is the dark mirror to Oliver. He is what Oliver can become if he never lets the past go. Every step since 5x17 has been Oliver letting go of the pain, guilt, shame and anger. Every moment has prepared Oliver for this battle. For this choice.

Oliver has to hold onto the lessons he's learned, what he knows to be right and allow his humanity to make the calls. Oliver needs William as much as he needs Felicity. As much as he needs Diggle and Thea. This is the love that pushes Oliver past the dark into the light. This is the love that makes Oliver fight for the future. Oliver's love for William makes him a better man and a better hero. A man and hero worthy of Felicity Smoak.

Source: sharingmyworld

It's why Oliver is willing to work with Malcolm Merlyn and Slade Wilson. The past no longer matters. All that matters is his future and he's willing to whatever it takes to protect it. Oliver also knows to win, to truly save his son and everyone he loves, he has to do it differently this time.

Source: olivergifs

I think this flashback actually foreshadows Prometheus' demise. Oliver won't kill him, but I don't think Chase will have the stones to face justice. He'll do what Oliver refused to do. Chase will kill himself.

Bl*ck Sir*n and Quentin Lance

Okaaaay she's back. Truthfully? Pretty minimal scenes. She kidnapped Quentin and Thea. The end.

Although, I do enjoy KC as Bl*ck Sir*n. She plays a good villain. And Paul Blackthorne's reaction to seeing "Laurel" was out of this world. Break me into a thousand pieces sir!

There's certainly an effort to add some layers. BS owes Chase and wants to protect Quentin, so... she kidnaps him?

The promise is Chase won't hurt Lance. Had me a nice chuckle when Lance called her stupid. BS gets to express some "she's not all villain" emotion. BS says it's equally hard on her to see Quentin as it is for Quentin to see her. So... this probably means Quentin is dead on Earth 2. Okie dokie.

Are we headed for a redemption arc? Eh. I don't know. Honestly, the reason Arrow says they brought KC back was because they enjoyed her performance as BS. I know the LL fandom wants Arrow to turn Laurel 2.0 back into Laurel 1.0 but the reason Laurel 1.0 died is because the character ran her course. So, there's no need to retread that old ground. Also, Laurel 2.0 is not Laurel 1.0 so can we just accept reality?

The best thing Arrow has going for them with BS is that she is a villain. This plays to Katie's acting strengths and gives Arrow new ground to explore. I truly don't think they are in any rush to evaporate these positives.

Flashbacks

YAO FEI!!!!! Oh Yao Fei how I missed you. I don't even care that you were a manifestation of Oliver's guilt and urged him to commit suicide. I will take some Yao Fei anyway I can get it.

Imaginary torture. Well, that is one way to go Kovar. I'll give the guy credit. He did have Oliver's number. Emotional pain is far more torturous to Oliver than physical pain. This results in a series of flashbacks to remind us all that the past five years were of the suck for Oliver. Yeah, I didn't really forget that.

I like that Kovar gave Oliver a gun to commit suicide. Oliver killing himself is ultimate defeat and that's what Kovar wants. It's also a very nice callback to Oliver's first few days on the island. This isn't the first time he's considered suicide.

But then Oliver hallucinates Laurel. Well look at that. Flashback Ollie actually remembers Laurel!

Better late than never I guess. They have to connect it with the pilot. Oliver has to give a crap about Laurel again, so Arrow took a break from all the Felicity foreshadowing in the flashbacks. It's fine. We all know where their "love story" goes.

Oliver envisioning Laurel as his hope and salvation, begging him to come home when in reality he gets this when he does come home

basically sums up this hot mess of a television relationship for me.

Those were dark days my friends. Glad they are behind us. Huh. Snark is full on. KC being back might be fun after all.

Stray Thoughts

Lyla has a sister. Huh. Cool. Diggle's reassurance to Oliver (aka US) that Dyla is okay is appreciated.

Kovar nailed the Catholic belief on Purgatory. Wave to me from heaven y'all because that's where I'll be for awhile.

Oliver's attractiveness in his attractive brown leather jacket is very important to me.

Only Josh Segarra can look threatening in that color of yellow.

Quentin Lance trying to process how messed up it is that LL has a doppelganger is so me.

Malcolm hand jokes never get old.

"Not yet but soon." Josh Segarra added another level to the Chase creepy factor - this sounded exactly like John Doe from Seven Deadly Sins. I still have nightmares about that movie.

Source: kendrasaunders

I've missed this goddess.

Call back to Legends of Tomorrow! Ra's told Nyssa where to find Sara because Sara told Ra's to tell Nyssa where to find her. Let that little time loop simmer on ya for a minute. Although, I'm confused. I thought in S2 Nyssa found Sara in a market place starving. I need a Sara Lance/Nyssa Al Ghul flashback episode like yesterday.

Source: sharingmyworld

They all arrived by plane. Interesting. Methinks that Chase is planning on eliminating those means on escape. Perhaps, he expects to leave with Oliver after he destroys everything that matters? I also thought it was a little hint to Oliver of where his loved ones were. Things that make you go hmmmm.

"I'll cover you. Really." CLASSIC

I feel like Curtis should never go anywhere without backup. That should be a team rule.

"I thought you would have tagged your pets by now." Malcolm never stops being a supreme dick. It's one of the few things I enjoy about him.

Didn't you love all the preview clips promoting Bl*ck Si*n's return?

Maybe because there were only two scenes they couldn’t release any clips. Hehehe. I jest.

Disclaimer: Any gifs on the blog are not mine. If you would like a gif removed from my reviews, please message me. 5x22 episode gifs credited.

#arrow #olicity #arrow 5x22 #original team arrow #arrow reviews #arrow spoilers #malcolm merlyn #anti black siren #anti laurel lance #anti lauriver #arrow season 5 #season 5 episode review

358 notes · View notes

authoratmidnight · 7 years

Text

Arc V Episode 147 Translated Script

Script and Translation from DMC3444 on NAC

Debut of Doomy-Doom-Doom Doom King

Last Time’s Egao Count: 292

Himika: The real fun is just getting started? Yusho: Yeah. It’s pretty enjoyable, right? Yusho: The way he can command his monsters as he desires, No matter how ferocious they are… JACK: A true Duelist is one who guides himself to victory! Yusho: This is a trial to determine whether Yuya really has what it takes to be a Pro Duelist. JACK: Now! Show me, Yuya! Yusho: Your resolve! JACK: Your power! Yusho/JACK: Show me the entertainment you believe in! Narrator: Action Duel was born from the realization of Solid Vision with mass. This kind of Duel is one where the Field, monsters, and Duelists become one, And send the audience into a storm of excitement. (Opening Sequence) Yuya: I know. You guys want to become the Supreme Dragon King! You feel that you’ll be powerless once again when Ray revives, right? Yuya: Even so, I can’t allow you guys to become the Supreme Dragon King! I won’t let Zarc’s soul awaken inside Reira! Yuya: I want you to fight without fusing! Yuya: I won’t let your powers be used to hurt other people or destroy the world! I will use them to protect everyone’s smiles! (Egao Count: 292+1=293) Yuya: I activate Starve Venom Fusion Dragon’s effect! Yuya: It can steal all of Red Daemon’s Dragon Scarlight’s Monster Effects until the end of this turn! Crow: Stealing all of its effects? Sora: That’s not all. Yuya: I activate its other effect! Starve Venom can add the ATKs of all Special Summoned monsters on my opponent’s Field to its own ATK! Crow: It stole Scarlight’s 3000 ATK and Tyrant’s 3500 ATK as well!? Sora: Yeah. This is Starve Venom’s… Yuri’s dragon’s power. Asuka: Yuri uses its power to turn many Duelists into cards… But… Yuya: I activate the effect that Starve Venom took from Red Daemon’s Dragon Scarlight! All Special Summoned monsters with ATKs equal to or lower than Starve Venom’s 9300 ATK will be destroyed. And you will receive 500 damage for each destroyed monster! Melissa: Wow! Yuya is destroying both his own monsters and Jack’s in order to inflict heavy damage! Isn’t that a bit excessive, though? Crow: Jack probably already saw that one coming. JACK: That won’t be enough, Yuya! JACK: Continuous Trap, Invalid Insensitive! During this turn, monsters on the Field can’t be destroyed by effects! Sora: See? JACK: Using an effect you stole from your opponent to obtain victory is simply preposterous! Go all out! Show me the four dragons’ powers by battling! Melissa: As expected of the City’s pride, Jack Atlas! As if being able to read Yuya’s mind, he activated his Trap at the right moment and splendidly evaded the effect! Yuya: I knew that he’d have a counter for it. And also… I can’t afford to lose and let those three down. Yuya: Let’s do this! I will now join the powers of our dragons together! I detach all of Dark Rebellion Xyz Dragon’s Overlay Units, and activate its effect! Treason Discharge! Yuya: Until the End Phase, Red Daemon’s Dragon Scarlight and Tyrant’s ATKs will be halved, And Dark Rebellion will gain ATK equal to the lost amount! Yuya: Battle! I attack Red Daemon’s Dragon Tyrant with Starve Venom Fusion Dragon! Melissa: If this attack succeeds, Jack will… JACK: Action Magic, Evasion! The attack will be negated! Melissa: Whoa! It’s the card Yuya set with Stargazer Magician’s effect! Yuya: But can you survive the next one? I use the 5750 ATK Dark Rebellion Xyz Dragon to attack Tyrant! Rebellious Lightning Disobey! Melissa: If this goes through, it’ll be the end for Jack! JACK: Action Magic, Miracle! Tyrant won’t be destroyed, and the battle damage will be halved! Melissa: Jack protected Tyrant once again with an Action Card! But Yuya still have two monsters left! What will Jack do to evade them? Yuya: I’ll take down Tyrant this time and cut down Jack’s Life! I attack with Clear Wing Synchro Dragon! Whirlwind Hell Dive Slasher! JACK: Not yet! I send the Continuous Trap Invalid Insensitive into the Graveyard, And halve the battle damage! You’re commanding those dragons pretty well. However! Himika: Reira! Reiji: Zarc is experiencing Yuya’s Duel through the dragons? Yuya: All right, it’s your turn! Let’s settle this, Odd-Eyes! I attack Red Daemon’s Dragon Scarlight with Odd-Eyes Pendulum Dragon! Spiral Strike Burst! JACK: Action Magic, Rejuvenation! A battling monster won’t be destroyed in battle, and it will gain 800 ATK! Yuya: Action Magic, Assault! When a monster battles, it will gain 600 ATK during that battle! JACK: The dragon helped him!? Yuya: Odd-Eyes’s effect! When it battles a Level-5 or above monster, the battle damage will be doubled! Reaction Force! Shuzo: All right! Ayu/Tatsuya: He won! Futoshi: I’m shivering! Melissa: Finally…It’s finally over! Melissa: It was an intense battle that transcended the boundaries of the dimensions! The winner is… Sakaki Yuya! Melissa: He defeated the former King once again, And delivered an exciting and thrilling experience to the residents of every dimension! Thank you, Jack! Thank you, Yuya! Yoko: See? You can do it if you actually try. JACK: I’ll acknowledge it, Yuya. You are the master of those four dragons. However… I still can’t hear it. I can’t hear the roar of your soul! Yuya: Huh? JACK: Farewell! Yuya: What does Jack mean? Yuya: Reiji? (ZETSUBOU commercial. Brb) Yuya: Did Reira…Did Reira smile? (Egao Count: 293+1=294) Reiji: It’s just as you can see. Reiji: When you summoned the four dragons, Zarc’s evil spirit was awakened but… Himika: She’s back to normal for now. Yuya: But she still didn’t smile. (294+1=295) Then Zarc’s evil spirit is still… Reiji: It’s still inside Reira. Yuya: Jack told me… That I still lack something. But what am I supposed to do now!? Reiji: As you have cleared all the tasks I assigned you, I’ll approve your promotion from Junior Youth to Youth. Reiji: A Youth Duelist is qualified to take the Pro Test. Yuya: Pro Test? Yuya: Can I take it right now? Yuya: No! I can’t just sit around and wait! Let me take the Test right now, Reiji! Reiji: Hmph. I thought you’d say that. Reiji: Sakaki Yuya’s Pro Test shall now commence! His opponent… …Will be me! SAW/GON: Reiji is his opponent!? Yoko: There’s no one more fitting! Shuzo: Oh yeah! Get fired up, Yuya! Kids: Be hot-blooded! Reiji: Since I’m the examiner, I’ll choose the Action Field. You’re fine with that? Yuya: Of course. Reiji: Well then… Action Field, Entertainment Colosseum, activate! Tatsuya: Isn’t this… Futoshi: The Field used in Big Bro Yuya and Akaba Reiji’s first Duel!? Ayu: They didn’t finish that Duel, though… Shuzo: Is Reiji-kun planning to continue that match on this big stage!? Yuya: Back then… I still thought that Pendulum Summon is mine alone... I didn’t even think about why I’m the only one who can use it… Yuya: But I know now. The reason behind Pendulum’s birth… And why I’m the first one to use it… Reiji: A Pro is someone who is perfect in every aspect. If you can’t get me to see why you’re worthy of the title, You won’t be able to pass. In order to save Reira and the world… You must surpass me! Reiji: The Duelists have gathered in the hall of battle! Yuya: They will kick against the earth and dance in the air alongside their monsters... Reiji: ...as they storm… Yuya: …through the Field! Reiji/Yuya: Behold! This is the greatest evolution of Dueling! Action… DUEL! Reiji: Since you’re the challenger, I’ll let you have the first turn. Reiji: Take your time and set up your Field as perfectly as possible. Reiji: I will tear all of it down in an instance! Yuya: We’ll see about that. It’s my turn! I summon Entermate Duck Dealer from my hand! SAWATARI-SAN: Why didn’t he start with Pendulum!? GONGENZAKA: Are you trying to play it safe, Yuya? Yuya: When there is an Entermate on my Field, I can Special Summon Entermate Card Bird from my hand! Yuya: Duck Dealer’s effect. When an Entermate Pendulum Monster besides this card is summoned or Special Summoned, I can draw one card from the deck! Yuya: I activate the Magic Card, Pendulum Card Burst! I destroy two Pendulum Monsters on my Field, And draw two cards! Yuya: Using the Scale-3 Entermate Odd-Eyes Priest and the Scale-10 Entermate Ignition Eagle, I set the Pendulum Scale! With this, I can simultaneously summon monsters between Level-4 and 9! SAWATARI-SAN: Is he going to use Pendulum now!? GONGENZAKA: Do it, Yuya! Yuya: Swing, Pendulum of the Soul! Draw an arc of light across the ether! Pendulum Summon! Come forth, my monsters! Yuya: First off, the one who bears heroic and beautiful dual-colored eyes! Odd-Eyes Pendulum Dragon! Next up, Entermate Odd-Eyes Dissolver! The Tuner Monster, Entermate Odd-Eyes Synchron! Now, be revived from the Extra Deck! Entermate Duck Dealer and Entermate Card Bird! Tatsuya/Ayu: He summoned five monsters at the same time! Futoshi: SHIVEEERRRRS! Yuya: There’s more! The fun has just begun! Yuya: As long as I’m with you guys, I can do it. The Duel that will make Reira smile! (295+1=296) Yuya: I activate Entermate Odd-Eyes Dissolver’s effect! I can use this card and the Entermate Odd-Eyes Priest in the Pendulum Zone as Materials for a Fusion Summon! Dual-colored eyes that illuminate the dark night! Become one with the other pair of dual-colored eyes, And show us a new path! Fusion Summon! Come forth! Starve Venom Fusion Dragon! Yuya: Entermate Odd-Eyes Synchron’s effect! I can use it and another card in the Pendulum Zone as Materials to Synchro Summon! I’m tuning the Level-5 Ignition Eagle with the Level-2 Odd-Eyes Synchron! Spread your beautiful and majestic wings! Strike down our enemies at light speed! Synchro Summon! Come forth! Clear Wing Synchro Dragon! Yuya: Finally, I overlay the Level-4 Duck Dealer and Card Bird! Raise your fangs of rebellion formed from the pitch-black darkness, and fight against the foolish oppression! Descend now! Xyz Summon! Come forth! Rank-4! Dark Rebellion Xyz Dragon! Allen: You did it, Yuya! You summoned four powerful dragons on the first turn! Yuya: Using the effect of the Entermate Card Bird that was destroyed on this turn, I can draw one card during the End Phase. I end my turn. Reiji: You gained enough confidence to use the four dragons during your battle against Jack. And now, you’re using them to fight me? I’ll test whether that confidence is the real deal or not. Reiji: It’s my turn! Using the Scale-1 D/D Savant Copernicus and the Scale-10 D/D Savant Newton, I set the Pendulum Scales! With this, I can simultaneously summon monsters between Level-2 and 9! Immense power that shakes my very soul! Become the light that rends the darkness residing within me! Pendulum Summon! Reveal yourselves, my monsters! The three transcendental deities who rule over all kings! D/D/D Doom King Hell Armageddon! Shuzo: Those monsters are…! Tatsuya: That was when Akaba Reiji first Pendulum Summoned… Futoshi: He summoned those three at the same time! Ayu: They’re just as creepy as before! Reiji: Battle! I attack Starve Venom Fusion Dragon with the first Hell Armageddon! Allen: Get an Action Card! Use the skates to run around, Yuya! Yuya: Over there, Starve Venom! Allen: EH!? Yuya: Action Magic, Evasion! The attack will be negated! Reiji: Then, I attack Clear Wing Synchro Dragon with the second Hell Armageddon! Yuya: Over here, Clear Wing! Yuya: I activated the Action Magic, Miracle! Due to its effect, Clear Wing won’t be destroyed, And the damage is halved. Yoko: Well done, Yuya! Futoshi: SHHHHIIVERRRS! Reiji: It’s not over yet! Reiji: Then, I attack Dark Rebellion Xyz Dragon with the third Hell Armageddon! Yuya: Action Magic, High Dive! Dark Rebellion gains 1000 ATK until the End Phase! Rebellious Lightning Disobey! SAWATARI-SAN: Awesome! He retaliated! GONGENZAKA: The dragons and him are acting as one! It’s like he can communicate with the monsters! Yuya: Thank you, Starve Venom. Clear Wing. Dark Rebellion. Yuya: Yeah. I’m happy as well. We’re able to understand each other… Yuya: Sorry, sorry. Of course, I haven’t forgotten about you, Odd-Eyes. Yuya: This feeling… It seems familiar… That’s right… I’m… Zarc wanted to entertain people with Dueling! Not just the spectators, but his opponents and the monsters as well! But the spectators wanted our Duels to be more intense. They cheered even when people were getting hurt… That’s why we Dueled more violently than before. And then… we turned into a demon. Himika: Reira is crying… Yuya: I… Zarc didn’t really want to destroy the world. He wanted to entertain the spectators, the monsters, and his opponents with Dueling. He wanted to make people smile with Dueling! (Egao Count: 296+1=297) Reiji: Then, why don’t you try it? Try and make me smile! (Egao Count :297+1=298) Yuya: Reiji! Reiji: But don’t think that it’ll be easy! Reiji: I activate the Magic Card, Contract with Underworld Insurance! I can draw as many cards as the number of opposing monsters that were targeted for attacks but weren’t destroyed during this turn! Tatsuya: He drew three cards in one go!? Reiji: Behold! This is the ultimate portfolio I have prepared! I activate the Magic Card D/D/D Fusion! I can use this card and one Hell Armageddon as Materials to Fusion Summon! Fusion Summon! Reveal yourself! Level-10! D/D/D Ultimate Doom King Purplish Hell Armageddon! Reiji: Next, I activate the Magic Card, D/D/D Synchro! I can treat this card as a Level-2 Tuner Monster, And tune it with the Level-8 Hell Armageddon! Synchro Summon! Reveal yourself! Level-10! D/D/D Ultimate Doom King Whitest Hell Armageddon! Reiji: Then, I activate the Magic Card, D/D/D Xyz! I can Special Summon two Hell Armageddons from the Extra Deck! Then, I overlay the two Level-8 Hell Armageddons! Xyz Summon! Reveal yourself! Rank-8! D/D/D Ultimate Doom King Darkness Hell Armageddon! Reiji: Then, I activate that monster’s effect! The Hell Armageddon in my Extra Deck will be attached to Darkness Armageddon as an Overlay Unit! Reiji: If you want to make me smile, (Egao Count: 298+1=299) Then try and break through this impenetrable formation that I’ve planned! (Preview for Episode 148) Yuya: I’ve made up my mind! I’ll definitely make everyone smile! (Egao Count: 299+1=300) So, lend me your powers one more time! Yuri! Yugo! Yuto! Yuri: Our powers are already yours. Yugo: We were originally one person, after all. Yuto: If you have fun, I’m sure everyone will have fun too! Yuya: I won’t let you guys down! Yuya: Next time on Yu-Gi-Oh Arc-V: The Miracle Drawn by the Pendulum The fun has just begun!

#arc v #arc v spoilers #Arc V Translated Script #Translated Script #Zarc as a good person confirmed it looks like

22 notes · View notes

ecotone99 · 4 years

Text

[HR & TH] The Thorns That Cut: A Murderous Betrayal

THORNS THAT CUT:

A MURDEROUS BETRAYAL

Written by Samantha James …

I sat up against the pillows completely out of breathe. This had been the worst coughing fit yet. It felt like my lungs were trying to come up out of my throat and nobody knew why. My recent health problems were a mystery to even doctors. I struggled to put my red hair in a ponytail. It was starting to thin out in parts. My hair was not as full and shiny as it had been in the past.

“Cathy, why don’t you try to sleep,” encouraged my husband Ben.

I looked over to where he sat on a small sofa near the balcony door of our master bedroom. This was what the poor man had been sleeping on for the last several weeks despite my protest. His legs were much too long for our small bedroom couch. The guest bedroom would have been more comfortable.

“I am not very sleepy at the moment,” I mumbled weakly.

I still had not recovered from the coughing episode.

“Maybe in a little while. What do you want to do then dear?” He asked.

“Can we go outside for a walk? I could use some fresh air.”

“I don’t think that is such a good idea right now,”

Concern clouded his face and darkened his eyes. He was probably remembering the hour I had spent emptying my stomach while he held my hair as the sun came up. We had both watched the sunrise through the little bathroom window.

We didn’t know why I was so sick or what was causing it. I had been to the emergency room five times in the last month with high fevers, nausea, and pains throughout my body. There had been no answers and I had seen several doctors since then. They each gave a different diagnosis. The path to feeling well had become endless and daunting. My health was only getting worse by the day. This had all been so terrifying and sometimes I felt like hope was slipping away from our hands.

“I can read to you out on the veranda, I’ll grab a blanket,” offered Ben.

“No, that is okay babe. I will just watch a little television.”

I did not like the dark circles under his eyes that were starting to become a permanent feature on his face. He was so handsome with black hair, blue eyes, and dimples. Ben could pass as a male model. He towered over everyone at 6’4 and had broad shoulders that intimidated most. I had fallen in love with his bright boyish smile almost immediately. I frowned. Ben was not looking like himself as of late.

He hadn’t been right since I had first started getting sick. It was hard to describe the change. Something was just off. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Everything had me feeling paranoid and worried these days. He was just probably out of his mind with fear for my health.

“Is everything alright Cathy? You went really pale just now.”

“Yes. Maybe I should sleep after all. Can you bring me my stomach pills?”

“One moment” He nodded.

I waited patiently as Ben walked across the room and then disappeared behind the bathroom door. I sighed. My stomach felt like it wanted to return the shake I had sipped for breakfast. I could not keep anything down. The bathroom door opened. Ben held a glass of water and a little white oval pill in his hand.

His eyebrows furrowed in a slight scold.

“Make sure that you drink all that you are able. The doctors are nervous about you not being hydrated enough. You need more water Cathy”

“Thank you honey. I am going to close my eyes and rest a little”

I swallowed the medicine and took a long deep gulp from the glass. It was tap water. My stomach lurched in anger. I took a deep breathe and tried to keep it from showing on my face hoping I didn’t puke the water up.

“Are you okay?” questioned Ben.

“Yes. Just got a little queasy from the water. I am okay now. Really you should go and relax.” I soothed reassuringly.

“Okay. I do have some business to attend with and calls from the office to answer. Holler if you need anything. I am right here”

Ben leaned over and gave my forehead a gentle kiss. He was so sweet. I offered him a small smile. As I closed my eyes the sound of a closing door filled my ears.

I laid there listening as the footsteps become more faint. Then the only sound was that of my fan sitting on the night stand. The familiar noise was comforting. The breeze was helping me to calm down and relax a little. My body hurt so often now that I could just cry over it. Sleep was alluding me. I laid there in silence for what felt like an hour, but sleep was not taking me into its sweet slumber. This was impossible. Perhaps a movie would be nice? I decided this was exactly what I needed. A movie would help lull me to sleep.

I could hear whispers coming from the study. The door was cracked open slightly. Clutching my blanket and the DVD I had chosen, my ears strained to listen. Ben was trying to soothe the caller on the other end of the line. This did not sound like a business call.

“Laura, I know! Trust me honey.”

Through a crack in the door jam, I watched Ben pace around the room anxiously. He looked upset. I continued to listen in shock. Who was Laura? Why was he down here in the study and not in his office upstairs? The answer was clear as day. It was not difficult to surmise that Ben had not wanted me to overhear this conversation. He had come down here for privacy but why?

“Babe, you cannot think like that! You and Carly mean the world to me. The two of you are everything. My girls, my loves, and all I cherish in this world. Please understand …”

There was silence as he listened to the woman on the other end. I heard Ben give off an audible sigh of relief. It sounded like he was walking closer to the door. I quickly took a step back worried I might be seen if he got close enough.

“Yes. Yes. This will all be over soon. After it is done then I will never leave you or our daughter’s side again. I promise! Just listen. I need your patience and trust; otherwise, this whole ordeal these last weeks have been for nothing. This is all for you and our family”

My heart was thumping out of my chest as I stood in the hall listening quietly. My brain did not really quite comprehend what was being said. My stomach churned as my mind raced to process everything I just overheard.

“That will have to wait until after the funeral” Ben chuckled.

I peaked through the crack again. He sat leaning on the desk smiling now. His eyes were lost far away in the conversation with this other woman. Ben’s features cut me to my core. I had not seen my husband ever look this carefree and buoyant.

I slowly backed away and made my way into the den. The room was cozy and my favorite in the whole house but offered no comfort as my brain realized many things all at once.

My marriage was over.

Walking back upstairs was devastating. The reality of my husband loving another and having a child with that person threatened to put me into a deep spiral of no return. How could this even be? My heart ached at the emotions boiling to the surface of my consciousnesses. Tears streamed down my face in buckets as memories flashed before me and I relived the doctor telling me over a year ago that I would never conceive a child of my own. That the chances were one in a million. Ben having a daughter was simply adding salt on an already gaping wound.

The truth was crystal clear. Divorce was going to be in my immediate future, but first before anything was revealed my ducks needed to all be in a row, and every “I” dotted.

Ben’s office was just down from our bedroom to the right. This is where I went first. The room was not much to be impressed with. A single desk and one bookshelf sat at the far end of the wall under a large window. There was storage boxes filled with paperwork stacked in a corner. No decorations or other furniture one might find in such a work space. Ben’s office had always been bare. He had no sense for this kind of stuff and simply did not care. This was the only room I had been banned from sprucing up. Ben did not mind me filling our home with décor as long as his space was left out of it.

I looked around and realized something was different; however, nothing stood out at me. It was puzzling. I leaned against the wall because my body felt like it was loosing strength to keep me standing. Muddled thoughts jumped in and out of my head as I rested. My breathe was struggling to leave my lungs. Everything that had happened in this last month was all too much. I was so sick and this only made it all the more harder. How was I going to survive without Ben?

Tears threatened to spill out of my eyelids again. This was terrible! I needed and loved him. We could work things out couldn’t we? I pondered forgiveness but was coming up short. Could one really forgive their spouse for cheating? Would I be able to? No answers responded to my mindless questions. What I really needed was advice and my best friend. She would know exactly what to do. I turned to go in search of my phone but something caught my eye. That is when it hit me. I knew what was so different about my husband’s office. The laptop sitting on the desk was not Ben’s own computer. The foreign laptop was one I had never seen. Had Ben purchased a new one?

Curiosity gave way to action and I opened it in hopes that a password would not block my access. Luck was on my side! The login brought me directly to the desktop page. What I saw on the screen however made me feel like someone had kicked my teeth in. The background displayed a very beautiful woman with light brown hair and dark eyes. She laid in a hospital bed smiling with unabashed happiness. A newborn baby lay cuddled in her arms wrapped in a blanket. This had to be Laura and Carly. Ben stood in the photo off to the side of the bed next to them. He was absolutely beaming with joy as he kissed the woman’s forehead the way he always kissed mine. At the bottom of the image read the name Carly Christina, born 7lbs’ 8 ounces. The date was a little over two months ago. This was very recent and just before I had started to get sick.

Ben had kept a secret family hidden from me for who knows how long and all while something was seriously going wrong with my health. When he was needed the most. I clicked on the web browser icon and was taken instantly to his email account. Scrolling through the inbox did not offer anything of interest. How frustrating!

My head was spinning a bit and realizing I had done too much physically caused me to give up my investigation for the time being. Rest and laying down was crucial. The shock of Ben’s betrayal stung. Time for thinking was needed. When I clicked to exit the browser, a search history box popped up in the corner. What displayed there caused me to remain in the chair. The most recent of searches listed topics like “ Realtor” “selling your house” “life insurance” “nightshade” “undetectable” “Marriage licenses” “alimony” “ divorce” “social security”

All sorts of thoughts were running around as I stood there staring blankly at the screen. On impulse I clicked on the search term “nightshade”. The website displayed a health site with a long list of symptoms . It was a poison. Why was Ben searching about poison? This was quite confounding. As I read the long list of symptoms my incredulity turned to horror. Body pains, insomnia, and weakness were at the top. Symptoms also included digestive problems such as nausea, heartburn, and gas. These all were what I had been experiencing. I turned chalk white at the realization my husband might be trying to kill me.

My heart thudded loudly in my chest, my ears lost its ability to hear, and time stopped altogether. I felt like I was going faint with terrified anger. Then the words from Ben’s conversation downstairs came back to my memory. He had laughed about a funeral. Was he talking about me?

Everything seemed to click together.

I slammed the computer closed and gave off a weary sigh. What was I going to do? Footsteps sounded on the stairway. Someone was walking upstairs. Ben couldn’t find me in here! Shaking with fear I made my away from the desk. Knowing there was no time to leave the room unseen. I called out:

“Ben are you in here?”

“Cathy?” replied a confused voice.

“Oh there you are!” I said weakly before adding “I was looking for you!”

“Oh I am sorry dear! I went downstairs to get some breakfast and got caught up on the phone with work.”

I was trembling and unable to hide that something was wrong. My body did not feel like my own. It was as if everything was at a distance. Focus was hard to find. I wanted to throw up just looking at him: however, it was obvious that I wouldn’t be safe if he knew that I had found him out.

“You don’t look too well sweetie” He murmured grabbing my arm.

I wanted to slap him, kick his nuts, and run out of the house. Instead, I offered up a weak smile and let him lead me towards our bedroom.

“I feel awful. Can you help me prepare a bath?”

“Sure, and then I will bring you up a shake later. You gotta get well.”

The shake! That is how he was doing it! Everyday for breakfast, lunch, and dinner he made me what he called his health shake. Ben said it was filled with vitamins, nutrients, and anti-oxidants. They had tasted normal and nothing had seemed wrong. I began shaking really hard as I realized I had been drinking them every day for over an entire month. How was I still alive?

“Are you cold?”

“Yes. Can you make the water extra warm?” I requested.

Running water could be heard from the bathroom as Ben prepared the tub. He came back into the room and said it was almost ready. I nodded not trusting myself to speak as I sat on the bed holding my “health shake”. My mind was scrutinizing every action of my husband over the last two months. There was nothing in my memory that could have lead me to this moment. I thought he had loved me.

“Well, I am going to be in the office working. Let me know if you need help getting out of the tub. You should try to take a nap afterwards. You look like you need some rest really bad”

I tried to cover the disgust that was beginning to show on my face at his words. He had others so easily fooled with fake concern and kindness. Had he always been this way and I am just now noticing? I was not really sure of that answer. While Ben had been downstairs preparing my poisonous shake though, a plan had been formed.

The thought of just walking out of the house with him knowing frightened me beyond believe. There had been too many murdered woman at the hands of their husbands on the ID channel. Late into the night often they would be playing on our T.V. How abused woman get stabbed, shot, or beaten to death for trying to leave their evil spouses. Fear had ceased me and put me on the defensive. Images of bloody lifeless victims played through my mind like a movie. This man was willingly to slowly poison me to death. If I tried to walk out? The answer brought shudders to my body and the trembles came back.

An escape plan that was smart was the only way I could save myself from this nightmare. My thoughts were becoming clearer with this renowned sense of purpose. The survival instinct we each carry was providing the needed strength to do what had to be done. There was stairs off of the veranda in our master bedroom that wrapped around the house. They went to ground floor. That is where an exit could be made.

Slowly walking to the bathroom to give off the impression that I was going to take a bath, I listened to Ben as he walked across the hall and into his office shutting the door behind him. I inhaled and exhaled, making sure to take deep breathe in an effort to remain calm. Sitting in the bathroom I gently set the evil shake on the counter by the sink and closed the bathroom door as I re-entered the bedroom. Tip toeing across the room as quietly as I could to reach the patio. Luckily, the door did not creak as it opened. Sweat ran down my brows as I stepped outside.

The door slipped shut. Holding my breathe, I listened for any noise. While in the bathroom I waited several minutes to make sure Ben did not come out of his office. There was no sound. Taking a deep breathe , I reassured myself that everything was going to be okay. Cold wind hit my face and it was piercing. Shivers made there way up my spine. It was the middle of winter and here I was barefoot with no jacket. The only protection was my flimsy silk pajamas. I had not quite thought this all the way out. There was no going back now.

The steps felt like ice cubes as I descended. The metal and stone stairs harbored no warmth. My hair kept flying up across my face causing me to stop several times to wipe the thick strands out of my eyes.

The narrow pathway leading out to the street greeted me at the bottom of the staircase. It was concrete and did not feel as cold as the metal stairs. Our house had a tall full length fence that laid across on the sides of the walkway. Ducking slightly to avoid the kitchen window, I crept forward holding my breathe the entire time. Relief was a very dominant emotion inside me in this direct moment. Ben’s office faced the backyard and not the street out front. He was never going to see my getaway. The goal in my head was to hide out at the Phillips.

They were an older couple who lived across the way three houses down.

Barbara Phillips and I had struck up a friendship last spring over gardening. She had taught me so much about plants and taking care of a garden properly. Ben had never met them. He had always been too occupied with his own business that he barely acknowledge me when I discussed the kind couple. They would help me. Barbara’s husband could take me to the police station.

All would be sorted out and Ben would be arrested. He would suffer the consequences of his crimes and I would once again be safe to live my life normally. Thoughts of Ben being locked up brought comfort to my soul and renewed my strength. Dammit, why hadn’t I brought the laptop with me? I could have used the evidence! Too late now …

It was with pure resolve I made my way down the path only to be stopped dead in my tracks.

Ben stood at a small door on the side of our house that lead into the garage. His dark brooding eyes searched mine for understanding. He was tall and his frame left a menacing shadow that blocked out the afternoon light. I shrank back startled and horrified. Hysteria threatened to shatter the bravado I desperately grasped for.

“What are you doing out here Cathy?” he questioned.

Confusion colored his tone and put a strain on the usually soft voice of my husband. No words found their way out of my mouth. I was speechless.

The seconds ticked …

“Well?”

“I wanted to go out for a walk. You would have stopped me.” I replied giving off a sigh before continuing my explanation. “I just wanted to feel like a normal person again.”

It was the only thing that came to my mind to say. The only reasonable answer. I stood there trying to remain calm under a mask of what I hoped looked like guilt rather than fear.

“Normal people go for walks in their pajamas with neither a jacket or shoes?” he asked dryly.

Ben looked me over. Incredulity now in full display making him look harmless. I knew better. He had to go. Right now Ben stood between me and the street. This was not good. Thinking fast I decided to invite him to go with me. This would give me precious minutes.

“Why don’t you come for a walk with me? Can you get me a jacket and some shoes?” I quietly mumbled.

My voice sounded all wrong. It was not my usual tone. Ben looked at me with an odd expression before nodding.

“Okay. Sure … One moment.”

Ben went to the garage and could no longer be seen. I waited to hear the house door click shut before making a run for the road.

Adrenaline pumped through me as my feet were pricked with wet pointy grass as I cut through our lawn. Terror made my body move faster than I could imagine. The sound of a slamming door told me my head start was not enough.

“Cathy!” shouted Ben.

There was no way I was going to look back. Turning off to the side in hopes the neighbors house might block my view, I quickly ducked. That was when I heard a loud deep earth cracking sound through the air in succession.

Pop! Pop! Pop!

Holy hell! It was a gun. Jumping from the heinous noise almost caused me to lose my balance as my body rushed to hide itself behind some trash containers. My heart was thumping and the ringing in my ears made me dizzy. All the energy that was wielded in our mad dash from the house sucked away and instantly left me feeling lifeless. Crap! I was going to pass out. My vision blurred. It was impossible to focus.

“Caaaathy.. Cattthhhy. Cathy!” sang Ben not far off from where I crouched.

“Where are you?” he yelled.

His voice was deadly and leery. A sinister smirk quickly developed across Ben’s face when he spotted me on the side of our neighbors house struggling to breathe.

A shiny black gun barrel focused in my view. Aimed right for my head. Out of instinct I spun away and tried to lower myself to the ground but Ben was faster. A bullet hit me in the back of my left shoulder. Completely stunned I collapsed face first into the pavement.

This was where I was going to die. That was my only thought. Warm liquid slowly ran down my arms and onto the floor. The smell of dirt, rust, and copper entered my nostrils leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. The pain was intense and sharp. My voice wanted to shout out in agony of it all but nothing would come out. Fear and pain left me paralyzed. The sound of footsteps coming up behind me caused my body to stiffen in dread and alarm. A clicking sound cause my heart to leap out and then stutter. Was Ben going to shoot me again?

At this point I succumbed to my injuries and sickness. The world went black and I lost all consciousnesses. I vaguely remembering hearing more footsteps and shouts before fully passing out. The lights went completely out. It was like falling asleep.

I woke up hours later in a hospital. The gun wounds were not life threatening. I had survived; however, Ben was dead. Cops, neighbors, and the trail had revealed the rest of what happened months later when everything was under investigation. A neighbor I had not met before had been witness to it all.

The man’s name was Nathan Wallace. The day everything went down had seen him at home working on brakes for his truck. He had seen me running from my yard while standing out on his driveway having a smoke before working on his vehicle. Nathan said he had never seen someone looking so frightened. My face had instantly put him on red alert. He was about to chase after me to see if I was alright when Ben could be seen yelling my name and holding the gun.

My husband had lost his entire mind and never once noticed Nathan in his violent frenzy. My savior was unable to stop the first bullet from landing in my shoulder but he did save my life. Nathan had tackled Ben to the ground moments before he was about to shoot me for a second time. The two men wrestled on the floor while I laid lifeless. Nathan told me that these moments felt like hours. The struggle was endless. Ben was not going to give up but my neighbor stood his ground and protected me. Nathan stopped Ben from being able to shoot.

During the scuffle several other neighbors had come to assist. The local emergency dispatch office had received over ten calls about the shooting in a five minute period. The whole street was shell shocked over the incident. The cops ended up shooting Ben within minutes of arriving. My husband would not let go of the gun and attempted to aim it at one of the officers yelling to surrender. The results ended Ben’s life. A person cannot expect to point a weapon such as that towards law enforcement and not expect to die. Forever will I wonder if this was on purpose or had he really just lost it. No one will ever know for sure. Some questions will always remain unanswered.

Weeks after my release from the hospital I received good news. The D.A’s office was pressing charges against Laura Mantilini. Ben’s secret lover was charged with multiple counts of attempted murder, conspiracy to commit murder, evidence tampering, evasion, and a few other misdemeanors for missing court appearances after being released on bail. They had caught her at the border trying to leave the country with her infant daughter.

During the long intensive trial, lots of information and evidence was provided. Stuff I did not know such as Ben’s method of poisoning me. He had made a special concoction of nightshade, apple seeds, and Pyracantha berries. He would ground up these plants all together into a shake that was served up to me three times a day. It was given to me in just small enough increments and the symptoms were often irregular. This allowed it to go unnoticed. If you are viewing this without any emotional bias. The plan was fairly clever. The doctors would have eventually discovered this perhaps but not in time. Who even knew that apple seeds in large quantities could be poisonous? Laura had encouraged, helped, and participated in the attempt on my life. She received a life sentence without the possibility of parole. This is comforting to me. I am glad that she will never be out in the world free.

It has been nearly three years now and the world has moved on. Some days are tougher then others but I am blessed with someone that fills my very heart and demands all my attention. It is my three year old daughter. When Laura was arrested and taken into custody, there was a small little human left without her mother. Carly had no other family besides my husband and Laura. The tiny little creature was going to enter the foster system. My heart broke during the trial when the judge explained this. When everything was over, I went to Ben’s family. They had already known about the little girl; however, none of them wanted a thing to do with her. It seemed cruel. A child judged by the actions of her parents. My mind struggled with this for weeks until one day I found myself at the child welfare office and requested to be her foster parent.

The process was challenging but last year the adoption was finalized and she will forever remain the bright light that come about from the darkest time in my life. Sometimes I am not sure how I will explain what happened to her birth parents and why her father’s family makes no effort to be involved.

Carly will need the truth from me and all of it. Some day she will be old enough to stumble across newspaper articles about the shooting and the trial. The story had been picked up nationally and various broadcast of the incident appeared everywhere. The whole entire court proceeding had been televised. My daughter will be better off hearing it all from me rather than an outside source but for right now I am happy to just let her be a young innocent child who believes that monster are real and that I have superpowers.

My health is wonderful every since I stopped drinking liquid poison. The symptoms all dissipated and my strength returned. My body gained back weight and coloring. A full recovery.

I never returned to our home after being released from the hospital. My parents offered me my old room and I leaped at the opportunity. The house sold not long after. Carly and I found a beautiful condo with security services. Home feels safe now.

THE END.

Source: The story was originally published on my blog: https://thechroniclesofhistory.com/2020/07/27/short-story-thorns-that-cut-a-murderous-betrayal-written-by-samantha-james/

submitted by /u/SammyLovesHistory [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/2D9Fg6c

#Blogger #Story

0 notes

remsyk-blog · 5 years

Text

Daily Prompt - 2

Oh hey, two days in a row. I’m on a roll, lawl.

I’m debating about whether this one should be a two parter or if I should just leave it as is. I didn’t quite complete the prompt, but I kind of like how this turned out regardless.

Maybe I’ll come back to it.

Again, just spit this out, no editing.

I'll admit it: I stared. I may have even laughed, as much as a person can while staring down Death.

"Reaper, actually."

I may have stared harder, blinked a moment. "What?"

"I'm not Death. I'm the Reaper."

If you're confused, just think of how I felt. I had just sat down for another evening of Netflix and whatever I could dig up from the kitchen (preferably quick and easy, minimal effort required). I wasn't in the mood for anything in particular. Just the other night, I went from a stand up special to a Gothic stop motion movie to a cartoonimation (anime thing, who knows) about vampires. I won't say I'm a terribly interesting person, but some days a simple binge watch doesn't cut it.

I had just decided to try to whittle down my backlog of Marvel shows when someone knocked on my door. In case you haven't figured it out by now, I'm a bit of a hermit, and I like my privacy and own space. I considered simply ignoring the summons. If it was someone looking to spread the word or anyone else with information pamphlets in need of recycling, they could just slip it under the door like any other millennial my age would expect. If it was someone I knew, they could text me.

But the knocking continued.

At this point in time, the logical answer was to continue to ignore them. Maybe they'd think I'm not home. Once again, if it was someone just looking for attention, they wouldn't know which car in the parking lot was mine, unless they had been waiting for me, which is a whole nother line of mental spiraling I didn't need at the moment, so I nipped that in the bud.

But still the knocking continued.

Now, another thought came to the forefront, not that the annoying was pissing me off (which it was), but that now it would be annoying my neighbor, potentially sparking an interaction I had zero interest in initiating or mitigating. With energy I had reserved for grade A lounging, I got up to answer the door.

And almost slammed shut.

Standing at my door was Death himself, or someone with some serious cosplay skills.

"Reaper, actually."

Which brings my to my current dilemma.

"What?" He -it? She?- didn't sound like I expected, but to be honest, what would Death, sorry, the Reaper, sound like? For some reason, I thought his (for the sake of consistency and my sanity, he) voice would be deep, otherworldly, maybe make the walls shake or send fear running down my spine. Instead, he sounded... normal.

"I'm not Death. I'm the Reaper."

He recited the words automatically, like reading from a script, and I had just given him his cue. I'm sure he got that reaction a lot.

"Okay..." I said slowly. I glanced around him, half expecting hidden cameras or for someone to jump out from a doorway into the hall, laughing as they snapped a picture of my face.

"May I come in?"

"Are you a vampire?"

I couldn't see his face, despite looking right up into his hood, but I could have sworn I had shocked him either stupid or speechless.

"I just told you I'm the Reaper."

"Yeah, but why do you need permission to come inside? Can't you just go wherever?" I'm no expert, but I'd watched enough episodes of Supernatural to know the basics. And yes, I am well aware of that show running fast and very loose with the source material, so sue me.

"Because it's polite to ask."

Now it was my turn to be surprised, and a feel like an asshole.

"Sure, come on." I pulled the door open as I stepped aside. Once he passed, I took a moment to do one last sweep for cameras before closing the door. "Sit wherever you want. Sorry about the mess."

The Reaper sat on the couch beside the pillow I had propped on the armrest and I opted to perch on the edge of my favorite Ikea chair, feeling the beginning of nerves tightening in my chest. I watched him a moment, waiting for him to say anything. As the silence stretched, my nerves grew, and with it my resentment. How dare this cosplayer come into my home and make me feel like an outsider!

With a huff, I settled back into my chair and curled my legs under me. "So, what's up?"

"I apologize for the abruptness of this visit, but I am here to fetch you."

"Fetch me."

Oddly enough, the Reaper seemed nervous, an oddly dissonant emotion to see on such an imposing figure.

"There was a... mix up, if you will," he began as he wrung his hands, his black gloves blending perfectly with his bleak attire. "Normally, we do things in a different order, but some papers were filed incorrectly, some messages crossed, miscommunication on our part."

I waved at him dismissively. "Don't worry, I was an administrative assistant for a little bit. I get it."

My assurances didn't seem to affect him, but it was hard to tell.

"I simply want you to know, this is not normal protocol. Had we done this properly, you would better prepared for the journey."

If I was nervous before, I was almost panicky now. "Wait, journey? Journey where? I can't just drop everything and go globe trotting! I'm saving my vacation days for the end of the year and I don't have much sick leave left either, assuming they'd even approve it on such short notice. And will I need my passport, cause I keep meaning to get it renewed but, you know."

I liked my job. In fact, I really loved my job, and my manager was a relatively laid back guy. I had enough of a rapport with him that I could probably get away with putting in leave on short notice, but not for long periods of time. The last thing I needed was to end up on his shit list.

"You won't need to worry about that."

"Too late, asshat. I'm already worrying!" I snapped as I surged out of my chair, nearly falling on my face as my foot caught on the armrest. "You honestly expect me to drop everything and just go on a freaken journey with you? This ain't Middle Earth, Sauron, and I'm no hobbit."

"I knew this would happen," he mumbled to himself, his head drooping as his shoulders sagged. "I told them this would happen."

I narrowed my eyes at him. I could feel my shoulders starting to ache from the tension singing through my limbs, but I wasn't going to let up in my own home. After a moment, he looked up again.

"I am very sorry, but it has to be this way. Most people have more time to prepare. I don't mean to upset you."

"Maybe if you actually explained what you're talking about, I wouldn't be confused and upset." I'd like to say I arched my eyebrow at him, but I never learned to do that properly.

"Of course!" He actually bounced to the edge of my couch, a sight I don't think I'll ever forget. "First of all, I apologize if I'm not clear; this is normally something that is rather self explanatory when we follow the system, so I rarely have to break it down to my charges."

"Charges?" I asked flatly.

"In the most simple terms possible, my job is to escort you on your journey from here to eternity, the great beyond, or afterlife, depending on your preference. It's all the same."

My face could have been a reaction gif. "I'm sorry what?"

"My job is to escort you on your journey to the afterlife."

He said it so earnestly, he reminded me of a puppy waiting for approval for finally sitting when told, if said puppy was covered from head to toe in black robes. Of course, in the wake of this revelation, one question insisted on being answered first.

"Wait, who was supposed to be here?"

"Death."

Prompt: The Reaper does not bring death, he follows it. The Reaper is not an omen of doom, he is a guardian, sent to protect your soul on its way from this world to the next. The things that wait between the two are...unpleasant.

#my writing #daily prompts #writing #12/13/18 #december

0 notes

national-anathemas-blog · 7 years

Text

11/19/17; to go to Paris again

In the wise words of the 1975, "I've got two left feet and I'm starting to cheat on my girlfriend again..."

Or more accurately, I've got two left feet and I'm starting to yank out my lashes again. I started getting eyelash extensions in February for the express purpose of curbing my trichotillomaniac habits, however, it's done nothing of the sort as on my particularly bad days I proceed to rip them all out anyways. Thank god I have the most understanding lash lady (shoutout to my girl Tara) and a quick regrowth cycle when it comes to them, because otherwise, they'd be gone and there would be no helping them.

And besides, it's not like I have a significant other to cheat on in the present, or else, I probably would be cheating on them. Though I'm loyal through and through I find myself driving until I'm in the middle of nowhere and touching myself at the thought of guys I've just barely met and laughing too loud and getting kicked out of classes and missing my rounds at debate tournaments to convince somebody to press me up against the wall instead of voting for my opponent as presiding officer. My erratic behavior -- and the incessant eyelash-pulling -- are both a sign of the times and a mark of my mental health. I am a walking red flag, and no one seems to notice it and in turn will turn away at just how crimson I bleed and laugh when I stop waving. Everything is on the decline as I feel myself spiraling into another depressive episode: my room is littered with the last three months' worth of laundry, as I'd far rather buy myself cheap, lacy thongs at work than have to wash the ones I already own, my hygiene has gone to shit, as I can't bring myself to get out of bed to shower or wash my face or my hair or do my makeup when pampering used to be my favorite form of self-care, my grades are slipping and they're slipping fast even though we're only a week into the trimester, my feigned attempt at promiscuity is little more than a cry for help, and I'm ripping out my eyelashes again.

A year ago, to this day, two of my then-best friends and I ripped the cold Idaho night at its seams. One tried to bring alcohol she'd snuck from her boyfriend -- which then-well adjusted Lyssa didn't approve of and politely told her to knock her shit off -- and the other sat in the backseat and bragged about birth control and how she, still, somehow, remained abstinent. We drove and drove until my car ran out of gas and I thought it was the best night of my life when one of them laid across the hood of my car and all three of us exhaled in relief the second we pulled into some abandoned parking lot in the heart of our city's center. I remember my breath in clouds of cold, and shivering shaky hands when we went to get Chinese food later, and dropping them both off with a smile on my face as we discussed what the rest of junior year held for us.

Little did I know that a year later, neither of them would hold significance in my life. One bitterly betrayed me in January and ruined my life with the same words she'd built me up on, and watched as I got off of a bus after a drill team competition just to try to kill myself because I recognized the second she sat down next to the coach to discuss something, anything, the conversation would crawl its way back to me. The second friend I left in May -- she disliked my boyfriend and told me she thought I was faking my mental illness for attention (look at the patches in my eyelashes and the purple moons stamped under my eyes from sleepless nights and the grey hairs I'm already starting to develop and tell me, despite my diagnosis from the fourth grade, that I am not afflicted with anxiety. Say it to my face). Now I simply try to act like I don't see the ribbons that still tie me to them, the apology texts and their glances in the hallways when I amble through babbling something about the stupid debate team. Say what you will but looking back on this night a year later I realize that this was not my perfect place, this was not some paradisiacal Paris as I once thought it was.

I've started to realize that there really isn't such a thing as a perfect place, but rather, perfect moments. These are the moments where you're so blissfully happy you'll never forget them, the moments that make you fall in love with being alive, the moments that make you forget that your parents are going to drag you into their fights when you're done making out with your boy of the week and return home that night. These moments serve as my own personal form of escapism -- somehow, I exist both in the past and in the future. I get caught on the nostalgia of the night where my first boyfriend passionately kissed me in front of his house when I told him that he could break up with me because of how annoying I was as much as I do on the fever dream that is imagining myself a year from now, braving the cold on my way to class in Missoula's unforgiving late autumns, laughing with a group of brand new friends who don't see the brands high school burned into me but instead my face for themselves and I will be happy and healthy and back to being hygienic, with God as my witness I'll never go hungry again. I can't handle the present, so my mind flits to one of the two scenarios so quickly.

If I could pull me from a year ago aside after what was then her definition of a "wild night" I'd let her know all of the rest of her friends were practically doing lines at college guys' apartments and she was lonely in the fact that she'd remained holy but I'd beg her to stay that way, and I'd tell her that she needed to soak up the last of these moments while they tasted so sweet because both of these friendships would sour before she'd even see eighteen. And I'd tell her it's the principle of the thing. Good things aren't meant to last, but neither is the bad. Transience, especially at this point in her -- and my own -- life, is okay and in fact should be encouraged as it's what pushes one to become a more well-rounded individual and see the world through their own eyes.

And now, my ex-boyfriend won his senior State Championship football game and ate McDonald's across the table from me like we were still in the early stages of our relationship in August, even though the months and the time and weariness have separated us wholly and completely. And I don't think about that night where I spilled my guts about my past abuser to two girls who would later turn into what they promised they wouldn't as often, because it no longer matters. And I cut my cases for my debate tournaments, and spend recklessly, and live for the moment because I've come to the harsh realization that if I spend my days searching for something I will end up empty-handed. And I live for the moment because I know that nothing is promised or permanent, and everything will change, and that's okay.

The 1975 says it just the way I wish I could -- I'd love to go to Paris again. I'd love to go back to the first day I met my first boyfriend, and we went to the record store in the Paris building downtown to take pictures and he'd pull a guitar off the wall of the music shop a few doors down and try to teach me a little ditty. I'd love to go back to mocking the miniature Eiffel Tower next to the replica Statue of Liberty in the Iwamizawa bar district at the top of the biggest casino in town and watch as all of us were illuminated by its piercing multicolored fluorescence, staring up at it and laughing, in the sticky summer Japanese heat. I'd love to go back to when my school played our cross-town rivals, and my best friend and I almost got stuck on the opposing teams' side trying to deliver another friend ice cream, and went back to my new boyfriend's house to talk for hours and hours about nothing and everything and feel his warmth in front of me as I sat on the kitchen counter and later would kiss him in front of her and she'd scrunch her nose up and curse at me once she finally processed what had happened.

But this is a new Paris. Every day holds the capacity of making itself into a Paris, a perfect place, a moment I'll keep tucked away with my most cherished Polaroid pictures and notes from my high-school crushes; I just have to find some way to make it into a Paris, to push it to become as legendary and happy as the moments I close my eyes to and replay in my head. Today my Paris is that I spent a few hours practicing my guitar so I could learn the song of the same name, tomorrow holds whole new opportunities to become a whole new Paris. My Parises will be populated with different people, new friends and old, current flames and ex-lovers, as people come and go, but the one constant is myself and the idea that there is a Paris out there. And I just have to quit searching for it. It's been in front of me all along.

0 notes