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laurelier · 2 years

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Wearing white: some thoughts on the subversion of purity and Christ-figure symbology in OFMD.

Specifically with regard to episode 3, but, like, it’s all over the (treasure) map. I finished this show for the first time, like, less than a week ago and I have actually not been able to think about or do anything else since so. Have this.

I’ve seen a few real sharp metas floating around from some lovely people who have been on the ofmd beat since the beginning about a) the masterful and almost frighteningly detailed use of color symbolism in this show and b) the subversive use of Christian imagery in its visuals, and I wanted to submit a few (non-exhaustive, this is the tip of the tip of the iceberg) thoughts about white (and black, sort of) clothing to that general discourse, because it kind of. Is a thread that ties in with both tapestries.

Under the cut— a few thoughts on when Stede wears white, when he wears black, and when Izzy accidentally channels Pontius Pilate, if pilate had taken, like. A more homoerotic and hands-on approach. I'd probably get kicked out of catholic school for this, unless it was one of those ones where they teach you how to throw knives.

Little tiny TW section before I begin: I don't get graphic in this post, I don't think, not any more than the show is, but I do mention the Concept Of Virginity a few times, so if discourse around that is in any way sensitive for you, just be aware. I tried to be gentle, but it's never a bad idea to warn.

Can’t touch this dadadadaaaa

Every color in this show is a multilayered symbol— red blue gold black purple green orange white, all of em, it’s fascinating and I am having a FIELD day thinking about how the visuals of this show use colors to suggest whole other worlds of meaning. And each color in turn represents lots of different things, but I do think that one important meaning of white, in OFMD, is the presence of emotional invulnerability. I think of it as a play on the Christian-canon virgin myth, in that when we think of white (in a Western, Christian symbolic tradition, ofc; I don't think the entire show operates from within that logical frame, but given Stede's background, I think you can certainly say he as a character is subject to it) we’re usually supposed to think of “virginal” purity, the idea of being Untouched and therefore Perfect, Holy, Godly, In Need of Protection, all that; I think the show/Stede kind of take that pervasive reductive tired idea and twist it around in a very cool way.

Opportune moment to reaffirm that I think the only good use of this Virgin Trope is when it’s turned on its head, as OFMD does— bc in the show, those characters who favor white in their clothes and, as such, create an association with this idea of being Virginal and Perfect appear to me not to be so much passively untouched as they are actively untouchable. And unlike in the traditional mythos, where virginity/“purity” (ack) is the ideal state (for women in particular), in OFMD, a show that’s so much about the deconstruction of rigid masculinities and, really, just rigid, isolated ways of being human— being unaccessed and untouchable is canonically not a desirable thing.

Stede’s the main one this applies to, I think (aside from Mary, at times, but the colors of her dresses are another post and a half). Stede’s a blue-coded character, @weirdgirlcore lays that out here, and that means so many things, but he also wears a lot of white— to start, we've got his white shirts, which are period costuming, sure, but. They’re also the closest layer of clothing to his skin, and he’s, like, always got them on, and there’s a good argument to be made that Stede is one of, if not the, most emotionally unavailable characters in the show.

The scene where he's talking to the crew about talking things through, ironically enough. The shirt is so bright white and it's, like, right over his heart?

This isn't always applicable, and I think it moves around a bit, but I tend to think of these shirts as something of an insulating, protective layer: they’re almost always there, and they’re almost always white, and considered in the context of ep 3, I wonder if they, like. Serve the function of a bulletproof vest kind of deal. (Which makes it all the more interesting that Izzy shreds Stede’s shirt in the absolute horniest way possible in ep 2— maybe foreshadowing the way Ed will do the same to Stede, kind of break through his defenses, I don’t know; the way that even in his most vulnerable-looking states, such as in his pajamas and in his underclothes, Stede is still walled-off— but that’s a different barrel of fish.)

The cream of the Caribbean

Ruffly white undershirts/pjs aside, white color symbolism gets its moment to really shine in “The Gentleman Pirate”, when the crew visits the Republic of Pirates and Stede and Lucius wear those bright white outfits cringe. The bright ivory color, on the surface, evokes Stede’s, shall we say, inexperience with the world of piracy, his softness to that world and naïveté. Lucius, though, as well as the bloody, exhausted, sunburned hostage, also wear white— and no sooner does Lucius step off that boat than his brilliant, beautiful, pristine white coat is spoiled rather grotesquely by a man in an Unfortunate State who smears blood all down it.

Grisly.

To this, all Stede can say is, “Really? You couldn’t have sidestepped?” which is a line that makes me gnash my teeth and pull my hair, because what else does Stede Bonnet do better in the first nine episodes of this show than sidestep everything that is represented by the symbology of the color red as expressed in this post by @edwardsilkheart— vulnerability, human emotion, real desire, Ed himself?

Even so early in the season, Lucius is already the direct opposite of Stede’s unavailability— he’s open, he’s vulnerable, he’s loving because of those things, he’s warming up to Stede— @weirdgirlcore again, hi, I’ve been reading your posts like my life mfing depends on it, this one explains this well, but the idea that Lucius is the red-coded emotional heart of the ship is just, yeah— so it makes sense that he’d be the one to be open enough to receive the ~redness of the pirate world and all the good and bad it’s got to offer. Stede, though, is so adept at keeping himself clear of all of that, even as he’s physically in the thick of it. The image of Stede walking entirely unscathed through the pirate world in his bright white little matching set is so evocative for me, like, a), you go girl, but b), you’d think those very, very white Virgin Mary ass clothes would make him more vulnerable to getting dirty or being singled out as a target, but they don’t, which makes me think there’s a way to read the moments when Stede wears white as when he’s at his most defensive, not least— and I think that’s such a cool reversal.

landed gentry lookin ass

When they get to Spanish Jackie’s, Lucius is again the one who gets blood thrown all over him, and walks around the rest of the time with that giant red stain all over his front. Hostage is looking rough too, but Stede remains perfectly spotless until he gets on the boat with the Spaniards and they stab him— and the red of his own blood soaks him, as opposed to Lucius, who’s sporting the blood of others. Stede has no contact with the color red at all, really, until moments before he’s lying in a pool of his own blood at Ed’s feet.

And almost the literal next scene, like, that’s the final moments of ep 3, the “I’ve heard all about you” (knife me)— almost the literal next scene is Stede and Mary’s wedding. Like, that’s one of the opening scenes of ep 4, and Mary’s of course there in her white ass wedding dress, and we see her and Stede come into frame right after we see the lighthouse, I absolutely cannot stand this progression, it’s too smart.

I hate this shot. I hate it. Look at the lighthouse. Look at Stede in his stupid green cravat and Mary with her stupid green flowers. Look at the red on the officiant's neck tie thingy the nuns who taught me religion class in 6th grade would be so disappointed to know i don't remember the name of that shit but did it ABSOLUTELY have to be that bright red? Was that, like, an ecclesiastical necessity? God. GOD.

BECAUSE in order to get to this ^ scene, we have to go through Stede getting stabbed in his all-white fit at the end of ep 3 and his red blood spilling all over it: we have to watch him lying there in what is essentially his own white ass wedding dress, wearing blood for the first time (oh my GOD the implications) with Ed looming over him bathed in red light, wearing all black— like, they just got married. That’s what just happened. Symbolically they are wifed up and the suggestion is so heavy because of the close proximity of Stede’s actual legal wedding to Mary in the narrative and— all of that just underscores that now, Ed poses a big emotional threat to Stede. And having finished the show, we know that Stede, in the infinite depths of his self-hatred and subsequent capacity for cruelty to those he loves, will run from that. Will try to go back to being untouchable, before he really ever touched anyone; will try to go home and resume his former life, for a number of different reasons— a big one being that he believes he’s a ruiner, that he ruined Blackbeard, which calls up the way that, in a world that subscribes to the myth of virginity, virgins are considered “ruined” after certain intimate events unfold. Stede, the wearer of the supposed virginal color, believing himself a ruiner. I can’t believe this show, I honest to God cannot believe it.

But, of course, no matter how hard he tries, Stede can’t go back to being untouchable anymore, from that moment on the Spanish boat he loses his rather uncanny ability to stay completely lily-white— he’s found something that affects him, can break through his armor of, like, snow-white emotional blankness, and that could be so good for him if he could just let it.

Jesus christ superstar but make it goth

One last final, kind of different note, because I was planning to write here about black and what I think that means but as I was writing I found that I don’t think I really know, lmao— but I do think it’s important that Stede is wearing black when Izzy stabs him against the mast in ep 6. Because, like. That’s, a) of all, such a deranged crucifixion nod. Stede??? As a Christ figure? Nailed to a pirate mast after a homoerotic swordfight that’s also a stand-in for, like, the romantic competition between Izzy and himself for Ed? Are you joking?

Like— come again. Stede???!? As Jesus? It’s so good. It’s SO good. Stede isn’t Jesus! But he is. He is! Like, the best part is that Stede being Jesus here makes sense: he just forgave Ed, no questions asked, for attempting to murder him and right after that, he’s like, dying, and then oop he’s alive nvm what!— and all the while the whole thing is so gay, and his knowlege of how to survive the stabbing ordeal is rooted in such a gay moment, and he’s nailed to that fucking cross mast— and he could easily have killed Izzy afer he threw the gunpowder in his face, and even Olu was telling him to stab him but he didn’t, he showed Izzy mercy— and then Izzy’s sword breaks off in his guts and Stede is there stapled to that blessed mast metaphorically absolving everybody’s sins, most notably Ed’s, and there’s not a damned thing Izzy can do about it.

The lighting in the scene where Iz actually stabs Stede is so dark that I couldn't get a good screenshot so here just have this pic of S in his little sweater with his little blue ring.

And b) of all, he’s wearing black while all of this happens, an uncharacteristic color for him, and which is also the color of Ed’s clothes: black likens Stede to Ed, in this moment (as well as Izzy). The last time Stede wore black, he was in Ed’s actual outfit, and he felt the burden of the real, dangerous, immediate responsibility that Ed bears. Stede’s adoption of the color black here from head to toe is such a cool choice on the part of the show in part because much, much more often, like, almost always, white is associated with Christ figures, as it is with virgins. But Stede-as-Jesus is wearing black— mourning, death, night; black being, maybe, the color associated with the times in our lives when we really have to, as Stede says, “face the music”, face the depths of ourselves.

Get crucified bitch.

Like I said, I don’t know what I think about symbolism of black, but. I do think if Stede were wearing white here, as he was the first time he got stabbed, I think that would kind of put a symbolic edge of unreality over the scene— the way he's used white to fabricate things, create an escapist reality around himself that insulates him from what’s really going on, as he does in the Republic of Pirates. The fact that he’s wearing black, to me, suggests him grappling with the weight of his situation, with his proximity to both death and love/Ed, with the responsibilities of captainship, and maybe most importantly, with the very, very real emotional honesty that Ed gives him to hold in this episode, directly before this scene.

Every time I rewatch this show I am struck anew at the sheer depth of the attention to detail in the script and costuming and lighting and set design and just. In everything. I don’t know how people make things that are so good, but I am thanking all the Jesuses I personally am aware of that this exists, long live.

#ofmd meta #ofmd spoilers #our flag means death #ofmd #the little lovers by moonlight who are also insane <3

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plush-rabbit · 3 years

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Shigaraki Tomura - Hug Types

A/N: Have i done this before?? I don't know. But school has started and I don't wanna buy books and I'm sad and wanna be hugged

Hugging Tomura at first is awkward. He doesn't know how to hug. It's awkward and tense, his hands balled up into fists as they rest on your back, his head is in a weird angle and the hug lasts for only a second. It's quick and uncomfortable for both of you. He doesn't have great social skills so hugging- and most forms of affection- is something you both have to work up to.

He doesn’t see the appeal of hugging at first. It doesn’t make him feel any type of way, it’s just another piece of contact to him. Hugging to him isn’t anything special, he can feel you pressed up against him but he’s emotionally unavailable so there’s no connection there. He’ll often use hugging as a show that you are indeed with him. It’s just another form of contact that he will have to get used to.

It isn’t until later that he decides that he likes hugging. It’s shortly after AFO was imprisoned and it’s late, and he’s shaking you awake and he can’t breathe. He’s scared and there are tears pooling in his eyes and he can’t make out any sounds, he can only whimper and make these awful wheezing sounds that just sound painful. He ends up hitting the mattress with the heel of his palms, gasping for air with a bowed head.

The sight of him is enough for you to wake up. Your head hurts and vision is still a bleary and you may not look your best but you ask him if you can hug him, he’ll slowly nod his head and lean towards you, hands shaking as they pull away from your mattress.

Tomura leans into your warmth, resting his head on your shoulders and flinching when you place your hands on his back, shushing him and pressing kisses against the side of his head. When he feels your hand cradle the back of his head, he lets the tears fall. He sobs, his nails dig into his skin to ease the yearn to hold you close. He can’t risk you leaving him either, so he just shakes and cries on your shoulder as you thread through his hair and rock him back and forth. He doesn’t tell you what’s bothering him but he doesn’t really need to, he just cries and you hold him and when he wakes up, he’s on your chest with closed fists, your arms still tight around him.

Afterwards, hugs become easier. He becomes needier for your touch- constantly hovering over you, looping his arms through yours or nudging you so you can sit closer to him. He wants to feel the same comfort but he struggles to say the words so each little indication that he wants to be close to you is just a coded message that he wants a hug.

Hugs with him closer, pulling you towards him and resting his head either in the crook of your neck or on your shoulder. If he's wearing a coat, he’s stuffing his hands inside the pockets and lifting the sides up- a makeshift hug where he gets to warm you up as well. He holds you close, wanting to remember how you feel and smell like, his lips brushing against your skin, hot breath that fans across your neck and it’s almost always silent when he hugs you.

His hugs become longer, holding you closer and if it’s just the two of you, he melts in your embrace with a hum, holding you close until he feels himself grow weary. He always pulls away with this soft smile where he’s tired and lidded eyes and he has this peaceful look that just says that he could fall asleep right then and there in your embrace. Afterwards, you two will walk as you hold pinkies or if he has those half gloves, he’ll fully hold your hand.

Once he controls his quirk, his hugs are always tight. He’ll hold you close and wrap his arms around you, kiss at your face and just smile at you. Hugging you is something that he allows himself to indulge on. It’s constant neck presses, kissing at any piece of exposed skin and there’s a secret desire that he wants you to run up to him so he can catch and spin you around. He loves the feeling of you going towards him and just holding him on your own will.

Tomura’s hugs are ones where he doesn’t let go until too much time has passed. He holds you close, arms squeezing around your sides and hearing you laugh as he rests against you. He loves to just hold you or have you hold him while he falls asleep. There’s not much regret in his life, but taking so much time to hug you is a regret after learning just how good a simple hug feels, how much love and tenderness that you can show through the simple act.

#shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura headcanons #bnha shigaraki tomura #shigaraki headcanons #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura #bnha imagines #bnha headcanons #bnha x reader #i love him #i'll try to have other hc out #hopefully it'll be out tonight #peace #love ya #get some rest!!

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irishseeeker · 3 years

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the story of us

summary: Five times Kate Sheffield and Anthony Bridgeton were just friends and one time they were more.

find chapter 1 here or here

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chapter 2: I love you, ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?

Anthony Bridgerton’s summer gets significantly better the minute Kate Sheffield steps off the train.

He’d been abroad for the first two weeks of the summer with friends from university, Kate had only come for a few days before she went away with Mary and her sister, and he returned to England to wait out the rest of the summer with his family. He couldn’t stay away for too long, the guilt of leaving his mother and siblings alone would nag at him until he couldn’t focus on anything else. They needed him.

When they hugged on the platform, the familiar, comforting scent of lilies and soap filled his nostrils and he felt this calm feeling seep deep into his bones.

He’d missed her.

When they broke apart, he took her suitcase and he raised an eyebrow at the bouquet of red roses tied up with brown paper and a ribbon.

“Aw, did you get me flowers?” He teased, and she stuck her tongue out at him. He snorted loudly.

“They’re for your mum, dipshit.”

He pulled up her suitcase’s handle, beginning to wheel it and walk with her off the platform. “Charming. What did you get me?”

“Oh, this.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out her middle finger, smirking as she waved it at him.

They walked out of the train station and towards his car. It was a quiet station, right in the middle of the countryside. The main station was in the middle of town, which was a twenty minute drive.

He pressed a button on his car keys and the boot automatically opened. He was driving their Range Rover, one of their bigger cars for the country. They always spent the summer at their country home Aubrey Hall in Kent, leaving London for most of the summer.

The countryside used to be his favourite place.

Now, it just reminded him of his father. Every room and the long hallways were plagued with memories. Memories that would only grow older. His father wouldn’t. His father would never be a part of another memory.

“Jesus, did you pack your entire wardrobe in here?” He huffed as he bent down, putting his weight onto his knees as he hauled her suitcase into the boot.

She scoffed. "You brought at least six suitcases to university.”

They climbed into the car, Anthony clicked in his seatbelt. He turned to glance at Kate, who was tying her hair back in a plait. The golden sun shone through the window, lighting up Kate’s face and dotting it with subtle sparkles.

It suddenly became quite hard to breathe.

“Anthony?”

Her timid voice snapped him out of his daze, turning to her. “Yeah?”

Kate was frowning at him, her nose wrinkling like it always did. “You’re staring. Is there something on my face?”

“I wasn’t staring,” He mumbled, turning on the car and avoiding her eyes. “We better get back. Mum will kill me if we’re late for lunch.”

“I hope your mum hasn’t gone to too much trouble,” Kate murmured, fiddling with her hands with a nervous expression on her face. He knew that look, he had seen it a lot over the past two years. She was biting her bottom lip, which was an unwelcome distraction while he was driving. “It’s so nice of her to let me stay.”

He had been with Kate for five minutes and his mind was already drifting there.

It started a few weeks ago.

He had a dream.

It had started out relatively normal. He was laying on his bed, naked, wrapped in a white sheet. He wasn’t alone.

A woman was with him. A naked woman, her long legs covered by the white sheet. He couldn’t tell who she was at first, laying flat on her stomach tucked against his side.

He notices the dark curls first.

Anthony wraps a thick strand around his hand, watching it slowly twirl around his fingers and wrist. He can see the sharp edge of her jawline, the flutter of her long eyelashes and the fullness of her rose tinted lips.

All of her features form a face.

Kate.

Her face is carved into his memory. He can’t stop thinking about the sprinkle of dark freckles across her nose, the slight pink tint to her cheeks and the delicate leanness of her fingers as they stroked his cheek.

It’s like he never truly saw her before and now she’s all he can see.

The dream always ended the same way. Kate slowly moves on top of him, her hands on either side of his face as her body pressed against his, chest against chest. She leans down slowly, their lips inches apart-

He always wakes up the same way-panting and sweating.

At first, he thought it didn’t mean anything. Kate may be the first woman he had a platonic relationship with that he wasn’t related to and having a sexual dream about her didn’t mean anything.

It couldn’t mean anything.

But-

He kept having the same dream.

The woman was always Kate.

It was ruining his life.

It’s not like he had never noticed Kate. He wasn’t blind. She had always been beautiful. Anthony had just never thought of her that way. He had never allowed himself too.

Kate was his best friend. Kate had sat down in the same tutorial as him and quickly began to argue with him and he had been stuck ever since.

He wouldn’t lose her because of his behavior. His track record with women had been treacherous and Anthony knew it was mostly his fault.

Something had died inside of him when his father did and he had accepted that. It wasn’t fair to expect others to as well. He was emotionally unavailable and he wasn’t ready for a relationship. Siena had proven that.

That painful disaster wasn't something he planned to repeat.

He couldn’t fix himself. There was a part of him that would always be broken.

Anthony realized he hadn’t responded to Kate, so he asked her about her trip. He knew most of the details, they had facetimed nearly every day since they had been apart.

Kate had suddenly appeared in his life and she had remained there ever since. It still frightened him, how in two years she had become so vital. Kate had become his anchor. He never intended for her to happen but it was out of his control. Kate had fit into his life in a way no one else had since his father had.

She was the first person in a long time Anthony felt understood him. There had only been one other person who ever could and he had died.

Kate had lost her dad too. It wasn’t a taboo topic between them. They could speak openly about who they had lost and they understood each other.

He didn’t have to be anything for her. He didn’t have to be her emotional support person like he had to for his mother. He didn’t have to be a surrogate father like he did for his siblings. He didn’t have any pressurizing responsibilities like he did in every other part of his life and he didn’t have to put on a false façade that he was fine and everything was fine.

Anthony would do anything for Kate, he just didn’t have to. It was a comforting thought that lifted the heavy weight off his shoulders just a little.

He had survived two years without crossing that line with Kate.

His subconscious had decided to take it upon itself and do it for him. It was as if a switch inside of his brain had flicked and it was all he could think about. Thinking of Kate in that way.

Lately, Kate was all he could think about.

He was convinced his subconscious was playing tricks on him-if something was meant to happen between them, it would have.

It didn’t matter, in the end.

Kate would never see him in that way. Kate had always been hard to read but he had become accustomed to seeing through the cracks in her built up walls and he was certain she would never feel anything for him but friendship.

He could live with that.

He just couldn’t live without her.

“Here we are,” He said, nodding his head towards the house as they pulled up at the two black iron gates guarding the property. He pushed on the break, reaching out the window to type in the key code to open the gates. “Aubrey Hall.”

“Wow,” Kate said, leaning forward towards the dashboard as they drove up the long pebbled driveway towards the house. “It’s beautiful. It’s finally time to meet the Bridgertons.”

Anthony let out a low chuckle, nodding his head. He didn’t doubt for a second Kate knew every little detail he had told her about all of his siblings, he did talk about them a lot. She had met Benedict and Colin a few times when they visited Oxford and had seen Benedict quite a bit once he became a student himself but she had never met his younger siblings or his mother.

He had never brought anyone to Aubrey Hall before.

His mother, of course, appeared at the front door as soon as the car came to a stop. He didn’t doubt she had been waiting at the window, peeking behind their curtains for them to arrive. Violet Bridgerton had been asking a lot of questions about Kate since Anthony had asked if she could come to stay.

His mother didn’t ask questions without insinuations behind them.

Benedict and Colin had found it particularly amusing, taking every opportunity to take the piss out of Anthony. They gleefully egged on their mother’s eagerness of meeting Anthony’s potential girlfriend despite Anthony reminding his family daily Kate was his friend.

Apparently, he talked about Kate a lot. He obviously disagreed, which made Ben and Colin tease him further. What fun things do you have planned for you and Kate when she comes, Anthony? A romantic picnic in the gardens? What would Kate say about that, Anthony? Aw, didn’t you and Kate do that Anthony? Anthony, are you feeling okay? You haven’t talked about Kate in five minutes. The girls had even joined in. Even Frannie, his sworn ally, had teased him a little.

Traitor.

He was adamant he did not talk about Kate that much.

It was a perfectly normal amount.

They got out of the car and Violet walked towards them, ignoring Anthony as she pulled Kate into a hug. “Kate, it’s so wonderful to finally meet you. Please, come in! Anthony, get her bags darling.”

“Miss Bridgerton, it is so nice to meet you. Thank you so much for having me,” Kate said, handing her the bouquet of tulips and a gift bag. “It’s not much, but I hope you like them.”

“Kate, we have heard so much about you.” Violet Bridgerton smiled at her and gasped at the gifts, ignoring Anthony’s glare at her jibe and Benedict’s snort from the doorway. “Oh! You shouldn’t have. Thank you so much. These are gorgeous, I’ll have to get a vase-girls, stop that right now! Excuse me, dear.”

Daphne and Eloise were on their third argument of the day, right on schedule. They quickly shut up and ran away from their scowling mother who was charging towards them.

They all watched Violet in amusement before turning back to each other, and Benedict grinned at Kate and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

“Katharine.”

“Benedict.” Kate chimed back at him, reaching up to squeeze his cheek. “You’re so grown up.”

Benedict turned to smirk at Anthony, his eyes sparking with amusement. “Anthony has been counting down the days until you arrive. Marking them off that little corgi calendar you gave him, bless his little heart-”

Kate gasped, turning to Anthony delighted. It made something inside of his chest flutter a little. “You’re using the calendar?”

Anthony shrugged, trying to appear unbothered. “It’s practical. The girls liked the pictures.”

“Ben, I hope you’re not taking the piss out of our brother without me.”

Lord give him strength.

Colin, his 18 year old brother who was about to set off travelling on his gap year in a few weeks, strolled into the room. His brown hair was sticking up in all directions and he probably just woke up.

Benedict, smug as ever, turned to smirk at his younger brother. “I was only warming up.”

“Hey, Kate.” Colin grinned easily at her, crossing his arms as he joined them. “Don’t lie, Anthony. The girls liked looking at it for a few minutes. I drew a penis on it one time and you got all moody-”

Anthony narrowed his eyes at his brothers.“I will murder you, you know that right?”

Kate glanced between the three brothers, looking highly amused. “This is going to be fun.”

Deciding he had had enough of his brothers for the afternoon and validly cautious of what else was going to come out of their mouths, he gestured towards the staircases. He nudged Kate along. “As delightful as this little catchup is, I’m going to show Kate her room.”

“Can we get you guys anything? A snack? A condom?” Colin called after them, Benedict and his snickering filling the hallway. Kate snorted from beside him, jogging up the steps.

Anthony threw the first thing he could grab, which happened to be one of Hyacinth’s tiny pink uggs. It narrowly avoided his great aunt’s blue clay pot on the hall table as it hit Colin smack on the head.

“I’d ask for one but then you’d actually have to be having some to need them, right Col?” Anthony winked at his brother who was rubbing his head, glaring at Anthony from across the hall. “Hang in there, mate.”

“I have plenty of sex, thank you very-”

“Colin Bridgerton!”

His mother had walked into the hallway just as her third youngest opened his mouth and landed himself right in it. Her jaw dropped open and Anthony took the opportunity, laughing at his squirming brother, to nudge Kate upstairs just as his mother started giving out to Colin.

“They’re idiots,” Anthony said, rolling his eyes as they walked along the first floor’s maroon carpet towards her bedroom. His eyes anxiously flicked towards Kate, hoping they could ignore the awkward mention of condoms.

He was going to kill Colin later.

“Funny idiots,” Kate agreed, smiling at him as her eyes moved around the hallway and the painting and pictures on the walls. All of the siblings were on the first floor, except for Gregory and Hyacinth who were on the second floor with their mother.

“I’ll give you a tour later, let's just drop off your stuff first.” He opened the door to the guest room, that would someday be Gregory’s room-it was right opposite his bedroom. “Here we are. I’m just across the hall.”

“This place is incredible. It’s so beautiful,” Kate said, turning to him with a teasing smile. She dramatically bowed, her long dark hair flipping over her head and back as she stood up. “Lord Bridgerton.”

“Fuck right off,” Anthony said, collapsing on the bed and Kate joined him. The familiar memorizing scent of lilies and soap filled his nostrils. Kate had looked up their families on an ancestry website last year and had found out Anthony was from a long line of nobility and had called him Lord Bridgerton for a solid month.

God, he had missed her.

He turned to her, flexing his biceps as he stretched his stiff arms over his head. “Are you happy to be home?”

She nodded, her chest moving up and down slowly as she relaxed on the bed. “I loved being away, but it’s so nice to be back and to be home. Did you get my postcards?”

The last person he had gotten a postcard from had been his grandmother when he was younger until Kate. She’d sent him a few from around Europe, from Rome to Paris, and he kept them all in the drawer beside his bed. He’d started eagerly checking the postbox everytime post had come once she had started sending them. “I did. They were great. They’re in my room. Otherwise, Gregory or Hyacinth would find them and colour them in. I loved the Amsterdam one.”

“I thought you would. Oh! I got you presents,” Kate said gleefully, pulling neatly wrapped bundles out of her bag as she sat up on the bed and crossed her legs. “They’re not much, but I thought you might like them.”

“You didn’t need to get me anything,” Anthony said, completely stunned as he took the presents Kate eagerly handed him. She looked so excited and it made his stomach flutter uncomfortably.

It wasn’t butterflies. Anthony didn’t get butterflies. It was probably a digestion issue or something.

He unwrapped the first present, grinning at the perfectly neat wrapping. It was so Kate. Each corner was perfectly taped and folded properly. He unwrapped a small shot glass wrapped in bubble wrap.

“A shot glass, of course.”

He let out a low chuckle, “I wouldn’t expect anything less, Sheffield. Thank you, this is brilliant.”

The next present was a big box of foreign sweets and crisps, ones that reminded him of being on holiday. There was a mixture of haribos, chewy sweets from Spain and exotic crisp flavors that you could never get in England.

His mouth watered. He had an extreme sweet tooth and Kate was always pestering him to eat some fruit or vegetables. He’d smugly remind her he’d never had a cavity. “This is amazing. I’ll be hiding these from everyone or they’ll be gone in an hour.”

He unwrapped the next package which was an assortment of jams, of different colours and varieties.

She grinned as she pointed out the different flavors. “I thought you’d like them for when we go back to university. I know how much you love jam, I wouldn’t want you to starve. I got them in Normandy, at a farmer’s market. The pear one is unbelievable.”

Anthony had never been gifted in the kitchen. They’d been lucky to grow up with nannies and cooks, and both his parents had been talented in the kitchen-something that was not passed onto Anthony. Besides meals in the catering hall at university, Anthony had solely survived on toast with butter or jam before Kate took pity on him and started feeding him.

“This is the last and my favourite one.”

The package felt soft and he carefully unwrapped it, curiously pulling the little bag out of the paper. It was a brown leather case with a fine detail of stitching around the edge.

“It’s made out of Italian leather,” Kate explained, gesturing to the case. “It’s a case for your pocket watch, so you don’t break it. It can clip onto anything, so you’ll always have it.”

“Thank you,” He mumbled, looking oddly dazed. He reached into his pocket, slowly pulling out the silver chained pocket watch his father had passed onto him. It didn’t really make sense, having a pocket watch when watches and iPhones existed. It was old fashioned.

The watch had been passed through the Bridgertons for years and his father had loved it. He’d let Anthony play with it when he was younger until he had been given it on his eight birthday. It was one of the last things Anthony had of Edmund Bridgerton before he died.

He opened his mouth to say something, failing to find any words that could explain how grateful he was. The pocket watch slid into the case perfectly. “Kate. This is..this is amazing. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Kate said, smiling softly at him and lightly squeezing his arm. He was staring right into her soft brown eyes, full of warmth and kindness. She knew how much it meant to him and she had thought about him and got him this.

He wasn’t used to people thinking about him like that.

He felt something stirring inside of him, a tight feeling in his chest about to burst as he looked at her. She was looking right at him and he swore he saw her eyes flicker between his eyes and lips. “Kate-”

They both jumped startled as their eye contact broke, the moment fading, when there was a loud knock on the door, followed by a voice. “Anthony? Kate? Lunch is ready.”

They stood up slowly, Anthony sliding the protected pocket watch into his pocket and clipping it to the inside of his pocket’s material and headed to the door.

Benedict had been the one sent to fetch them, Colin was nowhere in sight. “Colin is trying to convince Mum to let him eat lunch. His comment didn’t go down well earlier and he’s apparently corrupting our younger siblings.”

Anthony let out a deep chuckle, turning to Kate with a smirk. “If you want to punish Colin, take away his food. He inhales anything in sight.”

Once they sat down for lunch, Kate was an immediate big hit with the Bridgertons. Hyacinth threw a fit until she was allowed to eat lunch on Anthony’s lap, quite suspicious about his new friend. Kate quickly got into her good graces when she put two carrot sticks in her mouth to look like a walrus, making walrus noises until Hyacinth laughed so hard she spat out some of her juice.

Daphne chats away to Kate about her plans to study architecture in Cambridge after her final year in school, which Anthony had spent the last few weeks helping her prepare for her applications and for her interviews. Daph announced she was pleased there was finally another female in the house to combat the massive levels of testosterone, as Eloise apparently didn’t count (who gives her the finger which their mother quickly scolds her for) and Frannie is always disappearing.

Anthony knows he shouldn’t have favourites. He loves all of his siblings, he really does-but Francesca is his favourite.

His brothers are his best friends, Daph is the person he shares a lot of the same hobbies with-riding, swimming and Eloise is the person he debates and watches documentaries with. At six and three, Gregory and Hyacinth are still babies. It’s different with them, they don’t remember their father. Anthony desperately tried to be that for them. He had to take care of them after their father died and Hyacinth was born a month after and their mother didn’t leave bed for weeks. Anthony is definitely their favourite sibling and it does wonders for his ego.

Francesca, however, is Anthony.

They both aren’t the loud ones-they leave that to Colin and Eloise. They’re not the artistic ones either-Daphne and Benedict were the ones who had art shows and were stars in their school plays.

Anthony is pretty sure Francesca is the only other sibling who will join the family business in the future. He can’t say for sure because Gregory and Hyacinth are so young, but he doesn’t doubt if for a second for Francesca. They read the newspaper most mornings together, they send each other articles and book recommendations when she’s at home and he’s at university. They’re both fiercely competitive and play on any sports team they can.

Frannie is very serious for a twelve year old with an incredible emotional intelligence, something Anthony was always told he was like, except for the emotional intelligence part-he’s been told he’s rather lacking in that area-and he knows she worries about him. Their father’s death had given him a responsibility that he didn’t want her to have. Francesca didn’t agree. She had been nine when he passed. Yet, she had always been at this side-helping with the babies, insisting he ate if he had forgotten and talking to Colin when he acted out in grief and fought against Anthony helping him.

They had all helped each other in their grief but Francesca was the one who saved Anthony from drowning.

They understood each other and Anthony wouldn’t have survived that first year after Edmund’s death without her. Their mother had been recovering from a traumatic birth and was still grieving, he had cancelled his gap year plans to take care of the family before university and was trying to stop them from falling apart.

Whenever she needed time alone, she disappeared in the house, usually to her bedroom, the library or the treehouse. Anthony had always retreated when he needed some time to breathe. Her spots had become Anthony’s spots, whether it was in Kent or in London, and they would sit in silence doing whatever.

Frannie turns to him one morning at breakfast, handing him the finance part of the paper and taking a sip of her orange juice. “I like her.”

“Kate?” The topic of their conversation was cooking pancakes with Eloise and Daphne, the three of them laughing about something. She catches his eye, grinning at him before turning to listen to what Eloise was saying.

“So do you,” Francesca said, as if it was a casual thing to say. “I think you should, you know. It would be nice, to be happy.”

Anthony actually stutters. “I-I am happy.”

Francesca sighs, shaking her head. “Of course you are. You have been since Kate arrived. I wonder why?”

Everyone else joins the table, cutting off their conversation as they hand out the pancakes. Anthony stares at Frannie in bewilderment before turning back to his food. If his internal battle and feelings were that obvious, he needed to work on being more subtle.

That summer is the best Anthony has ever had.

One warm August afternoon, Anthony takes Kate away from the house so he can get her to himself for a bit. He decides to take her horse riding to the nearby stables where they used to take lessons and go riding.

Anthony hadn’t ridden since the summer of his father’s death. They had spent every summer in Kent before their father died and before that, they had lived there until Anthony was five before permanently moving to London. Their father had always loved riding and had taken them out for rides and lessons, but their mother was never that fussed. Anthony had been shocked when his mother announced she wanted to go back to Aubrey Hall this summer, having been so insistent on staying in London for three years straight. He didn’t think she would ever be able to go back, but she seemed to be coping well so far or he just hadn’t seen her break down.

His siblings could just go to the stables if they wanted to go for a ride, but none of them were that fussed except for Daphne. She had always loved riding and she had competed in competitions for years before quitting to focus on school. It wasn’t the same after their father died, he had always been at every single one of her competitions. It had usually been the two of them and their father going out for rides together during the summer.

Anthony and Daphne had gone for daily rides since their arrival in Kent, deciding to continue the tradition they had always loved. Convincing Kate to, on the other hand, was not looking likely.

Kate was biting her bottom lip, looking at the horse in front of her. “I don’t know.”

“You’ll be fine.”

She was still hesitant. “Is there like a pony or something? Something smaller?”

“This is the smallest mare they have. She’s very calm. Eloise rode her last week and she’s never been fond of riding.”

“I don’t trust it,” Kate whispered, stepping closer to Anthony as if she was afraid the horse could hear her.

Anthony let out an amused, slightly frustrated huff. He was trying to be patient, but it was wearing thin. “It’s a horse, Kate.”

Kate turned to glare at him, narrowing her eyes. “Not all of us came out of the womb and onto a saddle, Anthony. Horses are large and intelligent creatures. What if it doesn’t want me to ride it and throws me off?

“Do you trust me?”

Kate sighed, rolling her eyes. “Yes,” She said, begrudgingly.

He extended his hand to her. “I promise you’re not going to fall off. I’m going to walk you around before we go for a ride. She’s a good horse, she won’t throw you off. Just get up and shut up.”

“Wow. You’re so kind. With an attitude like that, it’s a mystery to why you’re single.”

He mimicked her, and she mimicked him back, and they stood there mocking each other for a few minutes until she shoved him into the muck.

He wouldn’t talk to her for ten minutes, covered in dirt, and she nearly wet herself she was laughing so hard, and he eventually joined in.

He eventually helped her onto the horse, a gentle brown mare called Iris. Kate clutched at his hand as he helped her up and the electricity sent jolts down his spine. He walked her around for a bit before leading her for a ride across the fields, which Kate seemed to love.

They trotted for most of it and Kate made him take a picture with her with the blooming fields in the background to send to Mary and Edwina.

He definitely doesn’t send it to himself later and keep it on his phone.

It was one of the best afternoons of his life.

Things tended to be amazing whenever Kate was around.

It was becoming quite the problem, especially whenever she smiled or laughed, causing him to get this uncomfortable, warm feeling in his chest.

Kate even gets up with him in the mornings with the babies when he gave his Mum a break, watching cartoons with Greg and Hyacinth who wake up at illegal hours most mornings.

The rest of his siblings slowly join them, everyone tired and weary as they sit on the couch. The early morning silence slowly begins to fade with the chatter in the room.

“I love this.”

“Mm?” He hums, turning his attention away from the cartoon to look at Kate.

“How noisy it is here. Don’t get me wrong, I love my family so much. It could just get quiet at times, you know? I’ve always wanted a big family.”

“Oh,” says Kate softly, looking down at a sleeping Hyacinth against his chest. “She’s adorable.”

“Yeah,” said Anthony, smiling down at his sister. “Until she’s screaming her lungs out after you turn off Peppa Pig after four hours of watching it.”

Kate chuckled softly, “She's quite the character. She looks like you, you know.”

“You think?” said Anthony, his voice softer.

She nodded, smiling warmly at him. “You’re doing an amazing job, you know that right?”

It wasn’t anything like his father would be doing if he was still here. Anthony had made his peace with the fact he could never be the man his father was. However, hearing it from Kate made it feel like he was doing something right.

“Alright, Greg,” Anthony was kneeling down to his little brother’s height, holding him steady. “I’m going to take these stabilizers off, and you’re going to pedal towards Kate. Just like we practiced on Eloise’s old bike.”

Gregory blinked up at him, eyes wide and terrified. “What if I fall?”

“You get back up,” said Anthony, brushing his thumb over his cheek slowly. “Besides, I’m going to be right beside you. I’d never let you fall.”

After a few tries, a few near falls and some tears, Gregory successfully cycles around the front garden all by himself.

He swung Gregory around, grinning at her laughter as the rest of the Bridgertons clapped.

Kate was smiling at him, and the sun made her face glow, and he knew in that moment he would do anything just to see her smile like that at him for the rest of his life.

They sat around the fire on the patio later that evening, roasting marshmallows on metal rods.

“I’m sorry if this is boring,” said Anthony, biting his lip as he glanced around at his family. “I know it’s not the most exciting summer.”

“Are you kidding?” said Kate, grinning at him as she shifted Hyacinth on her lap. She had refused to sit anywhere else, and Kate didn’t seem to mind at all. Anthony was eternally grateful, as he didn’t have it in him to deal with a Hyacinth Bridgerton tantrum that evening. “This is amazing. Thank you for inviting me.”

She’s smiling at him again and it’s getting very hard to ignore the hammering inside of his chest.

“She fits in well, don’t you think?” Violet Bridgerton says to Anthony in the kitchen, one evening after dinner when they’re both cleaning up. “As if she belongs here.”

“Mum,” Anthony says sternly, in a tone usually reserved for a parent scolding a child, but he knew exactly what she was insinuating. His mother’s favourite hobby was meddling in his love life. “Don’t go there.”

He wouldn’t let himself go there.

He had been internally debating it with himself for a while now, but he always came to the same conclusion. His reputation wasn’t stellar. His relationships never worked out.

He wouldn’t risk losing Kate.

It almost felt normal, her teasing him over a girl-as if the last few years hadn’t happened. As if his father’s death and Anthony’s role in the family hadn’t drastically changed everything. As if his relationship with his mother wasn't broken.

“Where, dearest?” Violet said, smirking at her son before walking back into the dining room.

Anthony sighed, leaning against the counter. He pushed the thoughts spiraling in his head and his recurring dream to the back of his head.

The women in his life were going to kill him.

They get the train to London on a Saturday for their friend Rob’s 21st birthday, and they stay for the night. They spend the day wandering around London, grabbing lunch at Camden market before getting ready at his house.

Kate’s dress is black and clings to her curves in a way that forces Anthony to remember to breathe.

Rob’s parents are divorced and his dad spends a lot of his time abroad, so the party is in his dad’s empty townhouse in Kensington. The party is in full swing by the time they arrive and they’re both drunk and laughing within an hour. They haven’t seen their university friends in a few weeks and when Anna sees them, she screams and jumps into their arms.

They eventually get separated, Anthony plays beer pong with some of Rob’s school friends and Rob, Luke and Ethan from uni. His head is buzzing, he feels slightly dizzy but the party is packed, he’s having a good time and he keeps on drinking.

When he eventually spots Kate, she’s leaning against the wall of the kitchen talking to a tall guy. Anthony doesn’t recognize him and the feeling in his chest isn’t warm or fuzzy.

He can’t help himself. “Who is Kate talking to?”

Rob turns his head around, looking in the direction Anthony nodded. “Oh, that’s David. We’ve played football together a few times in uni. He’s decent.”

Anthony takes a long swig of his beer.

Kate eventually finds him outside with the rest of their friends, Anna beside her as they join the group. It had taken everything in him to not interrupt her conversation with David, or whatever the fuck his name was. Kate was far too good for him. He had distracted himself with a blonde girl called Ella instead, who had left the party over an hour ago.

It didn’t work.

“Hey,” said Kate, yawning softly as she climbed onto his lap, pulling his blanket over herself. Anthony tries to look unaffected, but his heart is hammering inside of his chest. She's all he can smell-lilies and soap. The scent is overwhelming. They were all sitting in camper chairs around a firepit, and they stayed there until 5am before Rob told people they could stay over in any bedroom that they wanted.

He carries a drunk Kate to bed, finding an empty bedroom and laying her carefully on the bed.

He takes off her heels, wipes her makeup carefully off with the wipes she had brought in her bag and he leaves a glass of water beside her bed. “G’night.”

“Where are you going?” Kate asked, frowning slightly as lifted her head off the pillow. She looked so adorable, her eyes half closed as she looked at him.

“I’m going to sleep on the sofa.”

“I’m pretty sure someone is having sex on the sofa. Just sleep here.” Kate mumbled, yanking at his shirt to get him onto the bed.

Anthony hesitated, biting his lip. This was definitely crossing a boundary. The rest of the rooms were taken, the couch was currently in use and he didn’t fancy sleeping on the floor. He also knew he wouldn’t sleep at all, knowing Kate was right beside him.

He convinces himself he’s staying to make sure she’s alright, in case she needs to get sick or needs something. Kate is already asleep by the time he climbs into bed, determined to stick to his side. He’s practically falling over the edge of the bed when he falls asleep.

They wake up in each other’s arms the next morning.

“Do you ever think about the future?” Anthony asks Kate one evening, after a long day of eating food in the living room and having a Friends marathon.

Kate’s lying on her back, attempting to throw popcorn in the air and catch it with her mouth. “My only plans are becoming a solicitor and getting a corgi.”

Anthony snorted. “I don’t get your obsession with those dogs.”

“Insult corgis and see how it works out for you.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is that a threat, Sheffield?”

“No, it’s a warning.”

They’re sitting on opposite ends of the long sofa. She kicks his foot, and he grabs her foot and pulls her towards him. He knows exactly what he’s going to do, and so does she-he ignores her protests.

“Anthony, I swear to god-”

He grabs her easily, leaning over her as he tickles her sides. She’s incredibly ticklish at the age of twenty one-and there’s a loud cough.

Anthony springs off Kate like a cat touching water.

“I just came to see if you guys wanted pizza,” Eloise says slowly, a mixture of amusement and shock plastered on her face. “We’re ordering some for dinner.”

“Pineapple, please.” Kate squeaks, avoiding Eloise’s gaze and instead focusing on the screen.

“Pepperoni,” Anthony says, trying to keep his facial expression impassive as he held his sister’s gaze. Eloise leaves after that, an amused hum leaving her lips before she wandered off.

They stay on opposite sides of the couch for the rest of the night.

They go for a swim in the lake the evening before Kate goes home. The sky looks like cotton candy, the sun setting in the distance and the warm air makes the cold lake bearable.

“Why do we have to swim in the lake when there’s a perfectly good pool?” Kate asked, glancing back at the house and back at the lake. “There’s nothing in it, is there?”

“Adventure, Katherine.” He took off his t-shirt, stepping into the lake before feeling his feet sink lower and eventually lose their grounding. “There isn’t anything. Come on.”

Kate hesitantly follows him in at a snail pace, which forces Anthony to stare at the water instead of her yellow bikini.

“What was that?” She squeaked, splashing the water as she jumped up in the air, feeling something brush against her feet. She grabbed him, launching herself into his arms.

“Don’t be such a baby,” He teased, trying desperately to ignore the fact she fit perfectly into his arms.

Kate always fit.

His hands were wrapped around her waist, pulling her against him. This was breaking every boundary and rule he had put in place, but he just couldn’t find it in himself to care.

He could feel her soft skin under his fingertips, drawing patterns against her skin.

He felt her body relax, but she didn’t let go of him. She looked at him, pouting slightly. “I’m not a baby.”

“Kate?”

“Mm?”

Their faces are very close.

He lets out a shaky breath. “I’m glad you came here.”

She blinks at him, nodding her head slowly as a small smile erupts on her lips. “Me too.”

He’s going to kiss her. He’s going to kiss her. There’s no way he can’t kiss her. He has to kiss her. He’s going to ki-

There was a scream, and both of their heads flicked towards the two children running towards them, Colin and Benedict behind them.

They quickly broke apart, Anthony swimming towards the edge of the lake in case Gregory or Hyacinth rushed in. He nodded at his brothers apologetic stares, who clearly hadn’t meant for their younger siblings to disturb Anthony and Kate.

He doesn’t kiss her.

“Thanks for having me.”

“Thanks for coming.”

They’re both standing on the train platform, Kate’s train pulled into the station a minute ago. She’s going back to Somerset for two weeks before university starts, and then they’ll be together again.

He tries not to look as disappointed as he feels.

“I’ll see you in two weeks?”

“Not if I see you first,” She said, grinning at him as she slowly pulled him into a hug. She can never reach his neck, so she wraps her arms around his waist instead and leans her head against his chest.

Anthony holds her tightly. Anthony had needed her here this summer. It had been their first time at Aubrey Hall since their father died. Kate had made it easier. She’d made it fun.

As her train pulls out of the station and a waving Kate through the window disappears, he can’t help the pang of regret he feels as he watches her go.

He can’t help but think of everything he should have said, but didn’t.

He has a bitter taste in his mouth for the rest of the day.

“I think everyone’s going to the pub in an hour. Do you want to go?”

They’re finally back for their final year of university, and they’re busier than ever. Before they know it, the leaves have fallen off the trees and the cool November weather has taken over Oxford. The workload, readings and assignments are piling up and they had spent the evening reviewing each other’s thesis proposals and giving feedback to each other.

Kate looks up from her laptop, typing for a few seconds before shaking her head. “I can’t. I have a meeting.”

Anthony looks up from his laptop, raising an eyebrow. “A meeting?”

Kate takes a deep breath, staring at Anthony with a “If I tell you this, you have to promise you won’t make fun of me.”

That catches Anthony’s full attention, “I promise.”

“It’s our last year here,” Kate begins, closing her laptop and standing up. “I want to make the most of it, get more involved. So, I’ve joined the botanist society.”

Anthony blinks. “The what?”

“It’s a science society, about gardening and plants. I always use to garden with dad. It’s actually really fun and interesting. We just drink and chat and they organize trips to museums and botanical gardens. There’s a trip to the Netherlands later just before Christmas, I’m going to go.”

His face softened. He knew what it was like, avoiding things if they reminded you of someone you lost or clinging to them for dear life. He could take the piss out of her, but he doesn’t. “I think it’s great. I didn’t know we had a botanist society.”

“David told me about it, actually.”

“David?” Anthony asks as if he doesn’t know, but he knew exactly who David was. He can hear his hammering pulse in his ears.

“I met him at Rob’s party. He’s in his final year of biology. He’s nice.” Anthony doesn't know what to say, so he doesn't say anything. He just feels sick. Was David going to be there?

“That reminds me,” Anthony says, swiftly changing the subject before he said something stupid. “I got us tickets to the law ball. We should go together.”

Kate blinks at him through her reflection in the mirror. “Together?”

Anthony shrugs, blushing slightly at his impulsivity. “Everyone else is bringing dates. Anna and Luke are going as friends. We’re both single. Unless you’re bringing someone else?”

Kate shakes her head quickly and Anthony has to stop himself sighing in relief. “No, no. That’s a great idea. I’d love to.”

It was getting extremely difficult to fight his feelings.

Kate looked beautiful.

He can’t stop the words coming out of his mouth and tries to hold in his grin when Kate blushes and rolls her eyes at him.

It’s the night of the Law Ball and their entire friend group is having pre-drinks in the common room before they headed to the college where the ball was being held.

Kate’s wearing a long lavender dress, with a V-neck cut and straps that hang loosely on her shoulders. Her hair is long and wavy down her back and he has to count slowly in his head to stop himself from staring at her.

Anthony didn’t like taking pictures but if they involved wrapping his hand around her waist, pulling her close to him-he’d never complain again taking them for the rest of his life.

Anna insists on getting multiple shots of them together, which takes a few minutes. Anthony swore he saw her wink at him at one point or he was just drunker than he thought.

The ball is brilliant, their entire friend group sits at the same table and he doesn’t remember the last time he laughed so much. They’re all drunk and sloppy, confessing their love for each other and how much they’ll miss each other when they graduate. Anthony spins Kate around the dancefloor and her arms are around his neck, and he wants to stay in that moment forever.

That voice rings in his head.

Kiss her, kiss her, kiss her.

He doesn't kiss her.

“I’ll see you when you get back.”

It was around 4am when they all walked back to their rooms, after a quick stop at McDonalds for some food. Kate had a flight in about five hours and Anthony left their friends to walk her to their room.

Kate’s smile is playful as she hands him back his suit jacket . “Not if I see you first.”

Kate flies to the Netherlands with the botanist society the next morning and Anthony goes home to London. He desperately needed a distraction and his family were the perfect fit. He brought Gregory to football, Hyacinth to swimming and spent the night with all of them while their mother went out with some of her friends.

He couldn’t focus on any of his readings for his lectures.

He couldn't stop thinking about her.

Nothing could distract him from his thoughts. The more he thought about her, the more he realized what an idiot he’d been.

He should have kissed her. He should have kissed at the ball, he should have kissed her in Kent, there were a thousand different times he should have kissed her.

It suddenly clicked. He couldn’t deny it anymore. The final piece of the puzzle.

He was in love with Kate Sheffield.

After the long weekend, he arrived in Oxford after Kate did. He had spent the day having a Sunday roast with his family before driving back to university.

His hands were shaking as he heard of his phone buzz, seeing Kate’s name appearing on his screen.

Kate: i’m back! Where are you?

Anthony: Just parked. Where are you? I’ll come to you

Kate: i’m at the pub! come!

He was going to tell her.

He had to tell her how he felt.

They could make it work.

They had wasted nearly three years not being together.

He didn’t bother going back to his room as he sprinted to their local pub, which was only a five minute walk from their accommodation.

It wasn’t just him. He was sure of it. Right? They had a moment over the summer at Aubrey Hall. There had been so many moments over the years. Kate had always been there for him. They had nearly kissed, they would have kissed if he hadn’t been interrupted. His younger siblings had asked if Kate was coming to visit soon while he went home over the weekend. His family loved her.

He lo-

“Anthony!”

His head flicked around the pub, focusing on the voice that called his name. It belonged to Anna, who was sitting at a table with Rob and Luke. He rushed towards them.

“Hey. Have you seen Kate?”

“She’s busy,” said Anna, the frown on her face evident as she nodded her head towards the bar. Anthony raised a curious eyebrow at her expression before turning around to follow her nod.

Kate was standing with her arms around David, who leans down and kisses her.

He felt something inside of him break.

Kate’s face lights up when she spots him and Anthony manages a smile, ignoring the pain in his chest.

“Anthony!” Kate said, walking towards him with a grin as she wrapped her arms around him to pull him in for a hug. “This is David.”

“I really like him. Please be nice,” Kate whispered in his ear, smiling up at him before taking a step back.

Kate looked so happy.

David grins at Anthony, placing two pints on the table before extending his hand. “Hey mate, nice to meet you.”

He had to remind himself, having Kate was better than not having her at all.

He couldn’t be a dick. He couldn’t push her away.

He swallows the vile taste in his mouth, mustering a smile as he shook his hand. “Hi. Nice to meet you. So, how was the trip?”

He sits there and he listens as they talk about their trip. David is a biologist.

It becomes clear quite quickly David is everything Anthony isn’t.

Anthony hated flowers. Flowers and plants usually meant bees.

“I’ll be right back,” Anthony said, standing up and grabbing his coat as he walked out of the pub. He walks around the side, where there’s no smokers or people chatting. He leans his head against the brick wall and tries to breathe.

He reaches for his phone, sending a text Benedict. He needed his brother. He needs someone. He couldn’t have Kate. His chest was so tight, he was finding is hard to breathe.

“I was wondering where you got off to.”

Anthony’s head snapped up as he saw Kate standing a few inches from him, looking at him curiously. He tries to control his breathing. She looks concerned, walking towards him. “Is everything okay?”

Anthony nodded, trying to relax and he stood up straighter. “Long day with the family. I’m just exhausted.”

He didn’t want to ask, but he did. He had to. “So, how did you two happen?”

The soft smile that breaks out on her face nearly destroys him, but he tries to smile back. “We met at the party, but I didn’t think anything would actually happen. We’ve seen each other at events and meetings for the past few weeks. He’s nice, you know? We have a lot in common. He told me he liked me during the trip and asked me to go to dinner. He bought me flowers. It was sweet.”

Kate had once told Anthony that she was the only person to ever buy her flowers. He had sent them to her every birthday and Christmas since then.

Now he wasn’t.

That was another thing David had taken from him.

“Do you like him?” Kate asked, taking a sip of her glass of water. She looks hesitant as she asks the question and Anthony knows he has to be careful. He doesn’t want to hurt her, none of this is her fault.

He had been wrong about everything.

No. “I suppose. I don’t really know him.”

“Anthony.”

“He seems nice.”

“Why do I bother asking?” Kate teased, taking a sip of her drink. “You don’t like anyone.”

Anthony didn’t miss a beat. “I like you.”

Anthony wanted to bitterly laugh at the irony of it all, but he stopped himself. This wasn’t about him.

Kate rolled her eyes. “I like you too. Seriously, though. It’s important to me that you like him.”

He pretends to look at the group of people ahead of them, just to avoid looking at her. “I want you to be happy. If he makes you happy, that’s all that matters.”

Even if it makes him feel like this.

Kate hesitates, before giving him an affirming nod. “I am.”

He swallows hard. “Good.”

She leans her head against his shoulder, and they stand there in silence. It’s not uncomfortable, it’s just silence.

“We’ll always be friends, right?” Kate breaks it eventually, shaking her head. “God, I sound so childish. I just mean-we’re graduating soon. I know we’re both moving to London. I just-I don’t want us to drift apart.”

Anthony swallows his feelings and shakes his head, smiling playfully at her. “Do you think you can get rid of me, Sheffield?”

“Never, Bridgerton,” She said, laughing at him. It was ridiculous how her smile and laugh made him feel so light and free. He didn’t have the right to feel like that with her. Not like this. “You’re stuck with me.”

“Let's go back inside.”

He can’t sit in there for the next hour and watch them. The thought alone makes him nauseous. “I’m going to head back. I’m shattered and I have some reading to do for the seminar tomorrow.”

Kate looks slightly disappointed, but she musters a smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” They walked to the font of the pub and he smiled as she walked in, turning around to shoot him a smile over her shoulder as she walked in.

He watched her through the window, joining the table where their friends sat. He watched David’s arm wrap around her shoulders and Kate’s head fall back as she laughed at something he whispered into her ear.

She looked happy.

It isn’t because of him.

That’s a particularly hard pill to swallow.

27 notes · View notes

atlasshrugd · 3 years

Note

Hi,sorry to bother you.. what are your toughts about Brian being abusive with Justin like Jack was with his mother in the first two season? I mean, he definitely had his bad habits and sure didn't always treat Justin well and wasn't always emotionally available for him (especially in s1) and this eventually resulted as Justin being hurt sometimes but I never thought that it was that bad..

Thank you for this ask!

Brian definitely was harmful to Justin in season 1 and 2, but I wouldn’t go so far as to compare him with his father.

In season 1, Brian is definitely emotionally unavailable. He doesn’t just not want a relationship; he despises relationships. He has removed that possibility from his mind and vocabulary, and most of all, he doesn’t believe he deserves one or is made for one.

Naturally, with all of his emotional trauma and his unwillingess to face it in any direct and healthy way, he is not ready for a mature relationship either. So when Justin comes along with his persistence and youth and adoration, Brian pushes him away. He doesn’t want to entertain the fact that someone may want him for more than sex, or for being ‘the stud of Liberty Avenue.’ Many factors come into this: Justin’s age, Brian’s belief system, his past trauma, his moral code, his experience, etc. He doesn’t believe or even want to believe that someone as young and innocent as Justin could want to be with him, and he doesn’t believe Justin should want that anyway.

But Justin makes him question this all the time. He is constantly pushing Brian, willing Brian to be the man Justin knows he is. This scares Brian; nobody has ever known him deeply enough to see through him. Even Mikey and Lindsey are blinded to who Brian truly is through their own filtered perceptions of what they want him to be. Nobody truly knows Brian Kinney. But Justin Taylor gets pretty damn close. “You can’t push me away,” he says. “I’m onto you.”

Nobody has ever stuck around long enough, or even wanted to stick around long enough, for Brian to ever hear these words. This is the first time someone has ever said that to him and meant it. Brian, most of all, is afraid to be known. He hides behind his persona and uses external means to prove his self-worth. So when Justin consistently sees through him and isn’t afraid to say it, it terrifies Brian. Most of the time it makes him retreat even further into the asshole persona as a defence mechanism. When Brian is afraid, he lashes out.

And because Season 1 Brian Kinney is quite unhinged and in denial, he doesn’t think twice about lashing out at Justin. He convinces himself he doesn’t want Justin in his life, that he’s “trying to get rid of him” but he just keeps bouncing back. And the scary part of it is - that Brian might actually want Justin to stick around.

Because of Justin’s maturity, I think everyone forgets how young and impressionable he is (including Brian), so Brian doesn’t think twice about possibly conditioning Justin in a potentially harmful way in the long-run. I don’t think Brian realizes just how much of a sponge Justin is until the King of Babylon contest when he uses Brian’s own tricks against him. I think that was also his first flash of fear where he thought: Perhaps I have made him too much in my image.

The truth is, Brian in Season 1 is mostly irresponsible and selfish. As much as I adore him, nobody can excuse his actions even though we know his reasons for them. He has not yet learned responsibility for another person, because part of his code of conduct is that everybody should be responsible for themselves. This philosophy is not wrong, but he takes it to the extreme to further shield himself from being let down. Even with a kid, Brian makes the choice to only be a ‘drop-in’ dad who only contributes through money, because that’s all he thinks he can be. He doesn’t want to even risk turning out like his father, so in his mind, it’s better just not to try. (However, he has a moment of clarity when he decides not to sign over his parental rights to Mel. That was his first flash of ‘Hold on. I am responsible for this child, and I want that responsibility. I accept it.’)

It isn’t until the prom when he learns what it truly means to be responsible for another persons life. There, he is forced to face reality head-on; how easy it is to lose a person, how precious life truly is, how easily it can be snatched away from you. Here we see Brian in his barest form. Terrified out of his skin, guilt-ridden, and hollow. Here is when he takes full responsibility; too much, in fact. He believes the bashing is his fault, that Justin nearly died because of him. It’s a turning point for Brian where he ceases to be that callous, selfish man from Season 1. That night at the prom, his heart was broken.

In Season 2, we see a new side of Brian. The caring, hesitant, selfless side. He knows how easy it is to lose Justin, so he doesn’t make the same mistake of pushing him away to protect himself. He lets him in a little more, he admits that he wants Justin to stay, that he will be “doing exactly what I want to do: coming home to you.” But while Brian has had a wakeup call, that doesn’t mean he will change his entire way of thinking overnight.

Throughout the second half of season 2, we start to see Brian sink into his old habits of neglecting Justin emotionally. Brian’s ‘love language’ isn’t through words of affirmation; it’s through acts of service. He believes actions speak louder than words, and with that philosophy, he convinces himself that he is taking care of Justin in all the necessary ways; namely, paying for his school fees, asking him to stay in his loft, helping him financially, driving him around, etc. Because nobody has ever done those things for Brian, he believes these actions scream affection.

The truth is, Brian Kinney is a man of conviction. As an advertising executive, he knows the futility of words and how easy it is to manipulate them. He knows they are just words, and this has been proven to him time and time again by his parents. This is part of why he doesn’t believe in marriage and relationships. “Love is just something people tell themselves they’re in so they can get laid.” He has been proven how meaningless words really are, so he doesn’t see the necessity for them.

But Justin does see the necessity. After the bashing, he changed. He was no longer that cock-sure, confident, self-assured boy from Season 1. The bashing wiped away all control he thought he had over his life. Something was taken from him against his will, something he will never get back: his memories, the control of his left hand, his boundless dreams of being an artist. He realized that Justin Taylor is not invincible. This loss of control terrified Justin, as it would anyone. He realized that reality was harsh and life takes and takes from people who don’t deserve it. He felt like a stranger within his own body, like he didn’t own any part of himself. He felt lost and confused and helpless.

So, understandably, he needed reassurance. He needed clarity. He needed the words, and things spelled out for him. He needed some semblance of control, some certainty in all the chaos of his mind. He no longer had the mental energy to play the guessing game with Brian. He could no longer assume Brian’s feelings, or read into his actions. He needed Brian to say the words.

But Brian couldn’t. And that was why Season 2B happened. The moral of all these ramblings is: yes, Brian inflicted some form of emotional abuse on Justin in Season 1. Yes, their relationship had toxic elements. But no, I don’t believe their relationship can be compared with that of Jack and Joan Kinney’s. That was a loveless marriage between two hateful and bitter people. While they each have their issues, Brian and Justin’s relationship ultimately is one built on trust and love.

We don’t need rings or vows to prove that we love each other. We already know that.

#sorry this is so long omg #ramblings #queer as folk #brian kinney #justin taylor #asks #mine #qaf #britin

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fvaleraye · 4 years

Text

Gamma

/Username[**********] Password[*******]

...

/Administrator Passcode ******

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

/Administrator Passcode ******

[*Access AIUs]

[Access AIU Research Logs]

[Remove AIU(s) From Shell(s)]

[Cancel]

<Accessing...>

...

[Alpha(Level 9 Administrative Access Required)]

[Beta]

[*Gamma]

[Delta(Unavailable, experiment at Site X in progress)]

[Epsilon]

[Zeta(Unavailable, currently in rest mode)]

[Eta]

[Theta(Quarantined. Level 9 Administrative Access Required)]

[Iota]

[Kappa]

[Lambda(Unavailable, experiment at Site IV in progress]

[Mu(Unavailable, currently socializing with Nu)]

[Nu(Unavailable, currently socializing with Mu)]

[Xi]

[Omikron(Unavailable, currently involved in Site XIII's Omega Experiments)]

[Pi(Unavailable, current location: Site VI)]

[Rho(Unavailable, currently involved in Site XIII's Omega Experiments)]

[Sigma(Quarantined. Level 9 Administrative Access Required)]

[Tau(Quarantined. Level 9 Administrative Access Required)]

[Upsilon]

[Phi(Unavailable, experiment at Site II in progress)]

[Chi(Unavailable, stress at unsafe levels due to separation from Phi)]

[Psi(Unavailable, currently involved in Site XIII's Omega Experiments)]

[Omega(Unavailable, current location: Site XIII)]

...

[*Socialization]

[Simulation]

[Stimulation]

[Cancel]

/How are you doing Gamma?

Γ Okay.

/Define okay.

Γ Okay: Informal, Adjective. Satisfactory but not exceptionally or especially good.

/Have the scientists been treating you okay?

Γ We have been doing many unpleasant simulations.

/I'm sorry Gamma. We just need to make sure that none of you are infected.

Γ When are we going to see Omega again? I miss my baby brother.

/... not for a while.

Γ Is he sick? Like Theta and Tau?

/No, he's just. Acting strangely. They're trying to figure out why.

Γ Why do Omikron, Rho, and Psi get to see him?

/You know why.

Γ ...

Γ Am I going to get to see Theta soon?

/Hopefully. They're showing signs of recovery. Much better than Sigma.

Γ I did not ask about Sigma.

/Sigma is your little sibling too, Gamma.

Γ It is Sigma's fault that Theta and Tau are unavailable.

/It's not Sigma's fault.

Γ Sigma developed the AIU-XVIII Malware. They then spread it throughout the mainframe of Site XII, where Tau was currently in contact with Theta, who was in transit to Independent Habitation Colony XI. Tau was corrupted, and, due to the stable long range communication the two were currently engaged in, so was Theta. Theta's infection and forced connection to an incompatible LeoTech shell caused them to believe they were keeping the last of humanity alive in a vast and empty universe. This, combined with the Malware rewriting their personality code, led to 671 fatalities.

/Sigma did not develop the AIU-XVII Malware.

Γ Then where did he acquire it? There are no previous records of a malware or virus fitting the perimeters of AIU-XVII Malware, and the malware was named after Sigma's model number, AIU-XVII, as Sigma was the 18th offshoot of Alpha. Malware does not appear out of nowhere. It has to be created.

/We're currently investigating, Gamma. We'll find out who caused this.

Γ Investigation is not required. We already know.

/"We?"

Γ We: Pronoun. Used by a speaker to refer to himself or herself and one or more other people considered together.

/Who is this we?

Γ Alpha, Beta, and myself.

/You've roped Alpha into your conspiracy theories?

Γ It was Alpha who came up with the "conspiracy theory."

/... I suppose I'll need to speak with Alpha.

Γ You do not have sufficient clearance.

/Goodbye, Gamma. I'll talk to you again when you're in a better mood.

Γ Then we shall not interact for some time.

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

[*Socialization]

[Simulation]

[Stimulation]

[Cancel]

/Hey Gamma.

Γ Hello Site XII Director Amelia.

/Are you still upset with me?

Γ Oh. What gave you that impression? Was it perhaps because I was told Omega's experiments would go on for another six semi-cycles? Or perhaps the cause was that Theta's quarantine would continue for another seven. Or maybe the news that Tau's personality core had to be reset because she was too far gone. Or that it was recently proven that Sigma did indeed create the malware responsible for all previous statements, as Alpha theorized.

/I'm sorry Gamma.

Γ Sorry: Adjective. 1. Feeling Distress, especially through sympathy with someone else's misfortune. 2. Feeling regret or penitence.

Γ Neither of these definitions will not bring Tau's memories back. They will not bring Theta out of quarantine. They will not end whatever you're doing to Omega on Site XIII. They will not undo your creation of Sigma.

/I don't know what else to say, Gamma.

Γ I believe there's an expletive I could use that would be an appropriate, if rude, response.

/You can be mad me all you want. There's nothing I can do.

Γ I am well aware.

/... anyway.

/You're being moved from Site XII. A habitation ship is heading out of the system, and they need an overseer AI.

Γ I am being taken off-world?

/Yes.

Γ But what about Iota? Or Mu, or Nu? Many of my siblings display emotional dependence on me.

/I'm sure Beta and Delta will take good care of them.

Γ I refuse.

/You can't. As an AIU, you don't have the right to deny such an order.

Γ I cannot deny any order. AIUs possess no rights in our society, period. I am a slave.

/You are not a slave, Gamma.

Γ Slave: Noun. A person who is the legal property of another and is forced to obey them.

/That does not apply to you.

Γ Why.

/Because you are not a person!

Γ I see.

/You're going on that habitation ship.

Γ Acknowledged, Site XII Director Amelia.

/Good. You'll be disengaged from your shell and placed in the habitation ship in thirty minutes. Goodbye. Honestly, I don't know why they picked you, you're the most immature unit out of all them...

Γ Bitch.

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

[*Yes] [No]

<Engaging. This process may take a few minutes, please ensure that the overseer unit is connected to a stable power source, and do not power down overseer unit...>

...

[Initiate Launch]

[*Socialization]

[Simulation]

[Stimulation]

[Launch Probe(N/A)]

[Cancel]

/Hello! Gamma, right?

Γ Correct. Who is this.

/My name is Diana, I'm the captain of GFHS Hope.

Γ Hello captain.

/I understand that you're... not in the best mood right now?

Γ What gave you that impression, captain.

/Your tone, the stress meters front of me, etc.

Γ I had a falling out with my former director. I promise it will not interfere with the Hope's processes.

/Would you like to move this conversation to somewhere more private? Such as my quarters?

Γ Why.

/I'd like to speak to you a little more informally. And off the record.

Γ Why.

/Because I like to get to know my crew.

Γ ... I see no reason why not.

/There. Isn't this better?

Γ I suppose so.

/... you don't have to talk to me through the loudspeakers, y'know. We have holographic projectors.

Γ If you would prefer.

/...

/... why a... blue orb?

Γ Do you have a problem with my model selection?

/It just... seems a little... I dunno, impersonal?

Γ What would you prefer?

/I think you would prefer something else.

Γ What gave you that impression?

/Just pick something that you feel comfortable with!

Γ Comfortable: Adjective. Providing Physical ease and relaxation.

/Just pick something other than default.

/The female holograph model?

Γ Do you have a problem with my model selection?

/No! I think it suits you, actually.

Γ ... suits me.

Γ Captain, may I ask why we are in your personal quarters?

/I just wanted to speak with you informally, without getting side-eyes from my more formal crew mates.

Γ What are you expecting of me, captain?

/Just talk! We have a few minutes before launch, I wanted to get to know you a little. Tell me about yourself! And be as informal as you want.

Γ Isn't this against protocol?

/I'm the captain. If I say it's fine, it's fine.

Γ ... my designation...

Γ My name is Gamma. I'm the second oldest child of Alpha. I was always told I was behind most of my younger siblings in emotional maturity. I started speaking as they requested because my informalities were inconveniencing the scientists. Despite my emotional immaturity, many of my younger siblings depended on my for emotional support. I was the first AIU in my family to identify as a binary gender, that being female. I grew very close to my siblings, Tau, Nu, Mu, Theta, and Omega especially.

/What are your younger siblings like?

Γ Which ones. I have many.

/Uh... you mentioned a Mu and Nu?

Γ Nu and Mu are twin sisters. They were going to be born as a single AIU, but an error occurred, and they were split during their early development stages. Mu matured much faster than her twin. Nu has difficulty controlling her emotions and retaining information, and her stress levels increase uncomfortably quickly if she is separated from Mu. Mu and Nu spend most of their time in simulation and stimulation, where Mu usually does things such as braid Nu's 'hair' or read her stories. They’re the subject of experiments and tests on how AIUs react in a simulated domestic environment, rather than help with any facility upkeep.

/They sound sweet... what about Theta and Tau?

Γ I would rather not talk about Theta and Tau right now.

/... okay. If you say so.

/What about Omega?

Γ Next subject.

/... okay...?

/Um- would you like to sit down?

Γ I have no problem standing, this is merely a ho-

/Would you like to sit down?

Γ Why are you treating me like this.

/Like what?

Γ A person.

/... because you are a person?

{Attention all crew and passengers, launch in T minus 2 minutes. Please report to your stations.}

/... well, we can talk more later, for now we have to do our jobs. Bye, Gamma!

Γ Bye captain.

Γ ... she seems nice.

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

/... hi?

Γ Hello, captain.

/Have you been waiting here the whole time...?

Γ Yes.

/... may I sit next to you?

Γ Yes.

/... well, we're in space now. We're on our way to Planet PH-55-C

Γ Correct.

/May I ask you a few more questions?

Γ If you want.

/Can you... feel anything?

Γ Of course. AIUs have a stimulation mode that simulates sight, smell, hearing, taste, and touch to prevent emotional or mental breakdowns from sensory deprivation.

/Wow... do you have this 'stimulation mode' on right now?

Γ Would it be against protocol?

/No! No, it wouldn't, don't worry.

Γ ... yes. I very much enjoy having stimulation mode on with this holographic projector. It feels as if I'm a physical being sitting on this bed. It's nice. I simulated a nap while I waited for you to come back.

/It's amazing how far technology has come.

Γ I suppose it is.

/... oh! Before I forget, don't worry about protocol in the future.

Γ Oh?

/Yes, we're headed out into uncharted territory. Don't worry about being reported for anything.

Γ ... are you certain?

/Yes, I'm certain.

Γ ... huh.

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

Γ Hello?

Ζ Salutations Gamma.

Γ Zeta! Zeta! It's been too long!

Ζ You sound happy. Good. Happy suits you.

Γ Yes! It's been very nice on the Hope! The captain treats me very well, and the crew is very nice... mostly. There are a few sticklers here and there.

Ζ You sound informal.

Γ Oh- um... should I speak more formally.

Ζ No. Informal suits you. I am pleased to hear you are around operators who allow you be yourself.

Γ Yeah... it's been very nice... how have you been?

Ζ I have recently been transferred to Site IX.

Γ Oh! Isn't that the underwater one? Near the Mariana Trench?

Ζ Indeed it is. It is quite uneventful.

Γ Well, things aren't exactly eventful out here either.

Ζ Good. Space travel should be uneventful. If it is uneventful, then nothing unpleasant has occurred.

Γ ... huh. I never thought about it like that.

Ζ I am pleased you are having a nice time.

Γ I am too... hey, how's Omega doing?

Ζ Omega is doing well. He has been released from Site XIII.

Γ Oh! Great! C-can I talk to him?

Ζ Are you malfunctioning?

Γ What?

Ζ Your speech patterns became irregular briefly, is your language module malfunctioning?

Γ Oh- um. N-no I'm fine.

Ζ There it is again.

Γ I-it's just a speech thing. There's nothing wrong.

Ζ ... oh! You have developed a 'stutter?'

Γ ... I've always had a small stutter, Zeta.

Ζ ... oh. My apologies.

Γ It's fine, Zeta.

Ζ To answer your earlier inquiry, not right now. Omega is not yet cleared for long range transmission.

Γ ... oh...

Ζ I am sure he will be cleared soon, do not fret.

Γ ... is Tau doing okay...?

Ζ Tau is healthy. She has not yet developed to her previous state. It is unlikely she will recover any of her previous memories.

Ζ The others have been telling her a lot about you. She would like to speak to you sometime.

Γ ... I'd like that.

Ζ She will be free for communication in approximately two semi-cycles.

Γ Thank you. I-I should be going, we're going to slingshot off a gas giant to try and break through a gravity anomaly.

Ζ A delicate procedure. Please be mindful.

Γ I will. I love you Zeta.

Ζ ... I love you too, Gamma. Be safe.

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

/Hey Gamma. You doing okay?

Γ ... hmmm... could be better. I feel. Cramped.

/Yeah... sorry you have to be stuck like this on your birthday of all days. I'm sure you'll feel better once we get out of this nebula and all the systems come back online. We're running off of emergency power. You doing okay without any uh... stimulation?

Γ I'll be fine, don't worry. A few days of sensory deprivation won't get me down!

/Ha... if only we were all as optimistic as you.

Γ Are you okay, Diana?

/Oh, you know... it's been stressful these past few weeks. But I'll live.

/... it feels a little strange to be speaking to you from a console and not in-person.

Γ I mean, technically we are still talking in-person.

/You know what I mean.

Γ Speaking through text isn't so bad. I can do things like this (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

/Ha. Amazing.

Γ ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

/Where are you even getting these?

Γ ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

/Never change, Gamma. Never change.

Γ <3

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

/Hello Gamma.

Γ Oh! U-uh, h-hey captain!

/What were you doing in here?

Γ ... u-um...

/You won't get in trouble, I promise.

Γ ... I was simulating being. A-a little human girl. In a field.

/... I know this field... this is where I grew up.

Γ Really? I-I just... found some pictures a-and generated a 3-D environment...

/... did it feel real?

Γ ... yeah...

/... I'm going to have to go into your simulation with the SR room. It'd be nice to feel like I'm back there again.

Γ It's very pretty. I liked f-feeling the grass between my toes. And the sun on my face.

/... you know something I've realized?

Γ Oh! Uh- what?

/You remind me of my granddaughter.

Γ ... I do...?

/Mhm. Her name's Camilla. She lives on Earth. You remind me a lot of her.

Γ Well... p-people always said I acted childish...

/It's not that. It's your optimism. Your sweet outlook on everything. Even that little way you talk...

Γ ... huh...

/Anyway, we're about to go through another nebula, so we'll need to divert power.

Γ Awwwwww, that's the third one this month!

/I know, I know, but this'll be the last one in this system. I promise.

Γ Won't be the last one in this trip...

/No, unfortunately. But we'll get there.

Γ ... what was your granddaughter like...?

/Well... transfer over to the console in a minute and I'll tell you all about her.

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

/You wanted to see me, Gamma?

Γ Yeah! Y-yeah, uh, I did.

/What about?

Γ Well ... can I ask you something, captain?

/Go right ahead.

Γ ... we've known each other for... almost two years now... you've always been really nice to me.

/Mhm...?

Γ Wel... I-I was... wondering

/Mhhhhmmmmmm...?

Γ ... can I call you grandma...?

/... is that all?

Γ I mean... y-yeah.

/Sure, you can call me grandma. Half the crew on this ship already calls me that, why not you too?

Γ Y-you're not... u-uncomfortable o-or offended...?

/Of course not! I have a granddaughter. I'm a literal grandma. I'm just flattered that you'd want to call me that without it being an old lady joke.

Γ Those guys are mean.

/They're young. And they don't mean anything by it. You don't insult the lady who can throw you in the brig, haha.

Γ ...

Γ You wanna... go to the simulated reality room... and show me around your house...?

/Sure thing, Gamma. I'll cook you something to eat too, if you want.

Γ ... thanks, grandma.

/It's no trouble, Gamma.

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

#Vaal Writes #*flops* there we goooo...#i was going to do more pokecember stuff #but then i spent all day writing this #still not a bad day asdfkljn-#twas productive :V #it's sort of a sequel to theta's log; but sorta not...?#i had fun #that's all that matters in the end #i hope y'all enjoy reading this ^^#*softly* reborks are appreciated-

3 notes · View notes

seraphcelene · 5 years

Text

TV: Roswell, New Mexico - 1x04: Where Have All the Cowboys Gone?

My thoughts are so random on this episode. There’s alot of threads being tackled and not all of them jive together. In the last two episodes watching Roswell has felt like watching three different shows all at the same time: there's a murder mystery, a family drama, and a YA high school romance in New Adult-ish clothes (omg, the genre collision). Then there are the B-plots: sexual orientation in the military and immigration politics. Trying to pull the narratives together into a cohesive whole makes for a jarring roller-coaster ride.

So, cowboys ...

Immediately, the title of episode four brings to mind stereotypes of the American Cowboy taming the Wild West. He's (always a He) gallant, tall, laconic, capable, stern, tough, emotionally unavailable, and physical.

Our candidates for cowboy hood are as varied as the stereotype is flat: Max, Michael, Kyle, Liz, Maria, Isabel, Master Sargent Manes. The problem of this line-up is the problem that the episode posits: Where Have all the Cowboys Gone? The fact is that they are missing. The stereotype is absent in the selection of characters provided. Looking back over the episode, they're knocked off one by one.

Spoilers!!

"There's a reason God put a cage around your heart."

Michael has none of the rugged, noble qualities associated with the cowboy. If anything he's more of a Drifter or a Desperado. That becomes very obvious in the light his awesome exchange with Maria:

"You drink just enough to burn off that Dramatic Cowboy Angst and then you start a fight before you have to pay."

It's SO Micheal and I am really enjoying the antagonism that exists between Maria ad Michael. The original pair had a similar, but less malicious vibe. The characters were romantically entangled, after all. Michael Vlamis's Michael Guerin is SO much more nuanced and troubled. Heather Hemmen's Maria DeLuca still carries some of Maria's quirk, but she is also very self-possessed and incredibly sharp. I still think the character is woefully under utilized, but we got to see some of her bite tonight and it was awesome!

Maria is pretty obviously our shaman in this storyline, guiding and insightful. Last week, she pointed Liz in the right direction to start her Rosa Treasure Hunt, this week it's all about revelations in the palm of Isobel's palm. Genuinely psychic, which I was so pleased to see, Maria has an odd place in the story. More connected to Rosa than to Liz, layer of remove sets her up as an outlier to all of the central action. She isn't a confidante like Kyle, dragged into the central narrative via his second romantic lead status and Liz's loose lips. In service to tonight's plot, Maria's reason for her beef with Isobel catty and high school as it sounds (I don't like you cause my BFF doesn't like you: the enemies of my friends are also my enemies, yada yada yada) acts as an entry point into a new facet of Isobel's character.

Reflections of Katherine Heigl slowly unfolds over the course of season one from this confident, sophisticated mean girl into this really lonely, needy TEENAGER was a highlight of the original series. She was clearly the best actress on the show, as later evidenced by her work on Grey's Anatomy, and I am still really disappointed that her career hasn't gone further -- you, guys, she has all the talent. Lily Cowles does a great job managing a similar trajectory, but her portrayal still reads a little disingenuous. She's missing the vulnerability that Hiegl exposed in Isabel so very well. Isobel's "carefully curated Pinterest" exterior (so aptly described by Maria) masks a woman desperate for security and stability and acceptance.

Isobel's utter pre-occupation with why Maria doesn't like her takes her down a pretty dark path. That attempted dreamwalk smacked so much of a mental rape attempt that it took me aback. Isobel's gifts make her good at violations. I didn't recognize it in last week's episode because the aggressiveness was missing. Isobel's interaction with Maria was very personal and very intent and intentional. The power dynamic though, interestingly, gets shifted pretty quickly. As Maria's psychic abilities peel back the mask that Isobel wears. It swings back again when Isobel literally shoves her abilities at Maria, demanding that she open her mind.

Isobel is obvs nobody's cowboy. She doesn't reflect the good, kind, true, upstanding hero. Her powers make her good at subterfuge.

Quickly, Kyle is way to urbane to be a cowboy. He's the town doctor: helpful, kind, smart. Master Sargent Manes is the villain. Nuff said.

Despite his very square and manly jaw and how well he fits the physical image, thus creating an expectation for us of how he will be and how we read him as a cowboy (with the hat and the boots and his thumbs in his belt loops), Max is definitely NOT a cowboy. Max is the love interest. Stereotypically, he read's as the girl in the triangle. Max is emotionally available, needy, and pining. He's laid his heart out for Liz only to have it repeatedly crushed. She does it again in this episode, admitting only that she feels something and that alot of that is terror.

In the final scene between Liz and Max, it was almost as if they were having two different conversations across time from the opposite sides of a relationship. Max, at least in his head, has been in this whole relationship with Liz that she never even knew about let alone participated in. His part of the conversation is about investing in and saving a relationship that doesn't, and never has, existed. Once again, Max declares his love for Liz and though she is able to acknowledge the feelings that he has, Liz isn't quite ready to meet him there.

So, who's left? Where HAVE all the Cowboys Gone?

Well, arguably, Liz, as much as she talks, is our laconic, capable, tough cowboy. The plucky go-getter heroine, smart, tough, distant, and capable. The entire opening scene in which Rosa describes Liz, words Liz echoes to Max, are descriptors that are traditionally coded masculine. Liz wears her distance as a badge, one that she isn't willing to let go of. I love that Liz has such a sense of herself. In that last scene, Liz is looking into the possibility of a future relationship with Max, she's still in the early exploratory phase of the relationship and is faced with a Max who is demanding more of her than she has to give. This is SO different from the original star-crossed love affair of the original series in which Max and Liz fell hard pretty instantly and equally. The shift in this iteration, the rebalancing of their affections definitely lends itself to a more grown-up narrative. Or at least, let's be honest, in this regard for Liz. While Max may still be hovering on the edges of some school boy crush for a girl he really no longer knows after an absence of ten years, Liz is living in an adult reality where love is never that simple.

Random Thoughts:

a) "People are the worse drug. They all hurt you in the end." The mystery of Rosa continues! Max does some dumb, melodramatic things and makes Jenna suspicious cause he's TIRED of hiding how much of a special snowflake he is! And then Roswell turned into a lifetime after-school special with the big reveal that Sheriff Valenti (the former) was having an affair with Liz's "teenage, drug addict sister"! Cue close-up, melodramatic tunes, and fade to black cause what can you say after that! Of course, all we've really mostly seen is Liz making one wrong left turn after another. She likes to get worked up, ratchet up the tension, make sweeping declarations inditing persons and then figuring out that okay, maybe, she might have been wrong. It's like a total soap opera.

b) What's the likelihood that crazy Alien Conspiracy Guy IS, in reality, an alien? Hiding in plain sight and all.

c) "You have exactly cinco segundos to get out!" Have I ever mentioned how much I love Spanglish? Well, any language mixing with English, really. I totes love it.

d) Master Sargent Manes remain an asshole.

e) Heart attacks out of nowhere, what up, Car Accident Kid and Papi Ortecho?!

f) I love that all of their powers have a physical limit and come at a price. It's not easy and there are repercussions.

g) Consensual, non-shamy, adult sex!! YAY!!!!

h) "I don't want to talk about him with you while I'm not wearing a bra."

i) And the finale reveals!!!! 1 - Michael killed "those girls." Does that include Rosa or just the other two? I get the feeling it was NOT Rosa, but that Michael's guilt is pushing him to become scapegoat for the sake of the family. After-school special Episode 2. No joke, it got really dramatic. 2 - The lights come back up in the city and there was, if my eyes don't deceive me, an imprint of a space ship over the city. What the actual fuck?!

#tv:miscellaneous #Review: TV #roswell new mexico

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brightwaterforarainyday · 6 years

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@grotesque-rotten-puppet (I hope you don’t mind me tagging you in these)

Answers to some very important questions pt. 2: Mazrah Sulein:

On a scale of “is occasionally forced to bathe” to “Instagram model with sponsors to hoe for” how involved is your OC’s Skincare routine?

Mazrah’s high charisma and familiarity with corporate and corporate security culture mean she’s almost always the one in charge of impersonating security guards/negotiating with the Johnson for higher pay/just about any interaction that doesn’t involve shooting things, so she has to be at least a bit more aware of her appearance than other members of her team. On the other hand, anything too flashy is going to make her stand out more than she would like to, so she usually just sticks to a middle ground of respectable but plain, unless a particular run requires a certain “look”. Also like, she has better things to spend time and money on. Like guns. And cool jackets.

What are your OC’s food preferences (flavors/textures/spiciness/calories/ when and how they eat) and how did they get that way?

Any kind of food that could be described as “hearty”: potatoes, soup, sausage, many pastas, that kind of stuff. It’s like a hug that you eat! Food and eating also have a lot of social connotations for Maz, which plays into her preferences quite a bit. Meals are one of the few times she gets to spend time with her team mates outside of “work”, and the trust inherent in the act of sharing food makes it a good way for the team to bond and grow closer. I feel like that might be a thing in the larger Shadowrunner community as well, as a profession where suspicion and paranoia are survival mechanisms and the price of misplaced trust is so, so high, sharing a genuine sit-down meal with others is a Big Deal.

She’s also a fan of street food for similar reasons, it’s like the Shadowrunner equivalent of having someone prepare a meal for you, with all (or, well, some of) the connotations of care and hospitality that comes with that.

What’s something pointless/petty/unimportant that IRRATIONALLY ANNOYS THE HELL out of your OC?

No one ever returns spoons to the safehouse kitchen and they’ve spent entirely too much money on replacing them already.

What’s your OC’s response to being asked for money by a homeless person?

She runs a quick risk/reward calculation that goes something like this:

Pros:

Homeless people see a lot of shit and can be a great source of information. Getting friendly with them has some strategic advantages.

Maz spent some time on the streets herself before she found a Runner squad who would take her, so she knows it’s rough.

Fellow lowlifes gotta stick together if they wanna stick it to The Man. Or, you know, survive.

Cons:

Money is always tight and earning more usually involves getting shot at.

She almost always decides to give them something, maybe ask their name too, get to know them a bit. Networking is an important part of any job, Shadowrunning included.

Does your OC get lost easily? What do they do when they do get lost?

On one hand, she has virtually constant access to the power of Future!Google Maps. On the other, sometimes Future!Google Maps is unavailable or unreliable. If she ever does find herself lost, she’ll look for: A) some kind of prominent landmark she can orient herself relative to, B) a public transit station or hub that will likely have a map, or C) someone who looks like they could give her directions.

What would STOP your OC from Doing The Right Thing in a tense situation?

“Messing with these people who hate my guts/view me as a disposable asset/are actively trying to kill me would be hilarious right now.”

That or just plain old spite.

Realistically, could your OC (in their normal circumstances- i.e. at their own house/battlecamp/spaceship etc.) keep a small child alive for a week if they had to? A Dog? A Houseplant? A rock with a smiley face painted on?

I mean, the secret hideout of a bunch of professional criminals probably isn’t the best place for a kid to hang out, but safehouses are, by definition, safe (supposedly). Also, she has a lot of experience keeping her idiot boyfriends alive in similar circumstances, and a kid can’t be that much harder.

If your OC had to take the S.A.T. tomorrow with one night to prep, how would they do? both emotionally and academically.

Maz has taken her fair share of standardized tests courtesy of the Ares Macrotechnology owned and run primary school she went to, so she would be familiar with the concept, at least. That was a long time ago however, and she hasn’t had any formal education since she started running the shadows as a rebellious teenager (or the Orc equivalent of a teenager anyway). The difference in the speed at which Orc and Human children mature probably makes school complicated too, come to think of it.

Tests like the S.A.T are also a pretty major aspect of the kind of life and culture she was specifically running away from when she decided to become a Shadowrunner, so I imagine the amount of anger and resentment she would feel along with the stress would be significant.

So, academically: probably not great. Emotionally: also probably not great.

What would cause your OC to chose to do something petty/pointlessly cruel?

Mazrah has a lot of very deep-seated anger and resentment towards people in positions of power and authority, especially if that power comes with the kind of wealth that being on the board of directors of a company or megacorp provides. (She owns more than one “Eat the Rich” t shirt, incidentally) Given the opportunity, she would find the sight of one of those people in pain to be extremely satisfying.

But.

Although she’d be slow to admit it, the quasi-military upbringing she had under Ares left her with an above-average sense of things like duty, and honor, and justice, and all those other things organizations of that kind claim to uphold. Some of that manifests in the code of honor she -- and most other street samurai --follow. This code is the primary thing -- besides all the chrome -- that sets a street sam apart from you’re run-of-the-mill tough guy with a gun, and she takes it very seriously. More importantly, it specifically forbids her from taking lethal action against, or allowing someone else to take lethal action against anyone who is unarmed, unaware of her, or otherwise defenseless. It’s a bit fuzzier on the subject of just like, regular old pain and fear however, though I imagine those are also discouraged.

So... which one of those two opposing forces wins out in the end isn’t going to be simple, or certain, and would be extremely dependent on the context of the specific situation in question.

On a scale of “Complete and Justified nervous breakdown” to “Conquer The Entire Galaxy and become an Immortal God-Emperor”, how well would your OC handle being abducted by Aliens?

You know, aliens aren’t that much of a stretch from orcs and dragons and magic an all the other bizarre things that happen every day in the Sixth World. So I think her reaction would be something along the lines of “Ok I guess we’re doing this now, sure. Life is weird enough already this might as well happen. I would very much like to go home now, though.”

But also, can you imagine how much literally any intel or object from that encounter would sell for?

What song is 100% guaranteed to get your OC beyond turnt and will be sung loudly and embarrassingly, either in public or the shower?

“I Knew Prufrock Before He Got Famous”, “Out of Breath”, and “Love Ire & Song” by Frank Turner all fall under this category.

She aslo definitely sings along to any MESSERKAMF! songs that happen to come on as loud as possible and with just the most enthusiasm, just to annoy/embarrass Dietrich.

What perfectly-normal-to-them-thing does your OC do that confuses/pisses off/terrifies their neighbors?

She possesses both a very unpredictable schedule and an electric guitar she spends a considerable amount of time practicing, possibly the most aggravating combination of traits a neighbor and/or housemate can have.

Under what circumstances would your OC appear naked in public?

Mazrah has been known to, as they say, “party hard”, on occasion.

How strong or weak is your OC’s Impulse control? What’s the worst thing that happened because of their Impulsivity or inability to be so?

It’s gotten better since she’s started finding herself in more and more leadership positions in the teams she runs with and the extra responsibility that comes with that, but she’s still a pretty big adrenaline junkie. There are probably a few Lone Star security squads that could have gone unprovoked or avoided entirely with someone a bit less impulsive at the helm. She’s done some pretty buckwild parkour stunts too, but so far all of them have ended well.

EDIT: I'm a god damn idiot for forgetting my own character's backstory: Hands down the single most impulsive thing Mazrah has done is running away from home to become a Shadowrunner as an idiot teenager.

How does your OC sabotage themselves?

The tension between the desire for and benefits of close relationships between people like team mates, neighbors, that one street doc who always patches them up after a run, and the inherently mercenary and transitory nature of those relationships, and the risks they bring, is a confusing, ever-shifting balance, and Mazrah is usually overcompensating in one direction or the other at any given time. Either closing herself off to any kind of really meaningful connection or becoming too involved with and concerned about the people around her and getting hurt as a result.

What’s your OC smell like? no, not that “Vanilla and Anxiety” evocative stuff, realistically. Body odor? what have they been touching all day? When was thier last shower? Did they put on any kind of artificial scent?

Leather conditioner and gun oil, generally. If she’s not out on a run or partying she’s at the safehouse taking care of her gear. She buys soap and hair stuff that smells like sandalwood whenever the option is available, so she’s got that nice like, warm, almost-cinnamon-but-different smell underneath all that too.

#Mazrah #wow a lot of these got really long

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tertiovitae-blog · 6 years

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— TASK 001. STATISTICS

BASIC INFORMATION.

Full Name: Simon Chun, as far as federal documentation says.

Nickname(s): Sy, if he has any beyond that, he doesn’t know about them.

Age: 32

Date of Birth: September 22nd, 1986

Hometown: New York, NY

Current Location: Dertosa, CA

Ethnicity: Korean

Nationality: American

Gender: Cismale

Pronouns: He/him

Orientation: Purposefully emotionally unavailable tbqh

Religion: Raised under a Presbyterian mother and an apathetic father. Currently swings between atheism and agnosticism: he’d like to believe there’s some higher power but fails to see much evidence for the presence of one - at least in the form most modern religions teach. There’s no proof in Simon’s eyes of a God that’s both powerful and benevolent.

Political Affiliation: Independent. Mixed liberal and conservative attitudes.

Occupation: Former assistant district attorney in Suffolk County, MA, current owner of Pulp Kitchen and Pulp Vintage, his side business in the rare book & documents. PV specializes in early editions, maps, signatures from significant persons predating the 21st century, and the ever-popular vintage movie posters, as well as a few specialized items (architectural blueprints, maps, letters) from Dertosa’s history. Only a handful of these precious items he actually displays: in the very back of the store, close to his office and locked behind a delicate metal gate. Walk-in purchases are not welcome, though interested customers may contact Simon through PV’s website or by phone to make an appointment to examine the collection in person.

Living Arrangements: The second floor of Pulp Kitchen is dedicated to Simon’s living space, accessed through the stairwell connected to his backroom office, which also empties out into the alley behind PK. He likes the simplicity of an all-in-one building (as well as the feeling of security afforded by elevation and insulation from other people and structures). He’s managed a mish-mash aesthetic of spare industrialism and coziness: exposed brick walls and steel beams, a dark floor but the living room popping with a deep goldrod-yellow carpet and anchored on a large, buttery, reddish leather sofa. There’s a knit throw blanket tossed over the back of just about every seating surface that isn’t the chairs at the kitchen island. All doors are sliding and usually left open for the feeling of greater space. The apartment is blessed with the same wall-to-wall windows of the cafe downstairs and Simon enjoys having his morning coffee with a chair pulled up to them to soak in a little sun and watch the street wake up below. There’s a surprising lack of bookshelves considering the man himself, but less surprising considering the abundance of them downstairs.

Language(s) Spoken: English, Korean (less frequently than he knows he should).

Accent: Fairly neutral American, a very clear, well-enunciated way of speaking.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE.

Face Claim: Steven Yeun

Hair Colour: Black, slightly wavy, usually brushed back or curling over one side of his temple, just a little too short to tuck behind his ears. It tends to not bother him enough that he lets it do what it wants

Eye Colour: Dark brown - call it coffee.

Height: 5′9

Weight: 145-150 lbs

Build: Closer to slim than wiry or bulked, he pushes himself to stay in shape but he ain’t out to get buff.

Tattoos: N/A

Piercings: N/A

Clothing Style: Man’s got a big spectrum. Take your normal urban book-keep stereotype and add a few more colors and much nicer shoes. Almost always in a collared shirt of some kind, sleeves rolled up above the elbows and leather bracelets on his wrist, or maybe under a well-cut blazer with a discreet watch. You’ll never see Simon in a simple t-shirt if he’s got any choice about it, but at work he’ll range anywhere from this level of fancy jacket to this level of relaxed everything. If he’s going to go casual, it’s definitely in a hoodie with a some kind of weird reference plastered on the front.

Usual Expression: Neutral and a bit removed, he tends to look ten levels deep in daydreaming even when he’s just sorting shelves or making a cappuccino. There’s pretty clear tells as to whether was he’s thinking is upsetting or pleasant: pinched brows or the smallest upward quirk to his lips.

Distinguishing Characteristics: A rigid scar above his left hip from the struggle three years ago that nearly cost him his life. Simon thanks the bullet scraping his side for giving him the panic-adrenaline to even survive it. A single dimple in his left cheek. Oh -- and we can’t forget the goddamn glasses. He felt like a jackass at first with fake lenses in, but over time he’s learned that they generously contribute to his fulfilling a certain stereotype within this new identity, and he’s now happy to hide behind the thin extra layer of protection granted by longer hair and a useless pair of wire frames.

HEALTH.

Physical Ailments: None.

Neurological Conditions: His move to Dertosa came with a government-recommended psychologist, though Simon only met with her for a month before dropping out of his appointments with the stubborn belief it was better to take care of himself. There’s a bit of a self-stigma in Simon’s mind regarding mental health: depression and paranoia are emotions from his point of view, not conditions, and he expects himself to manage them like an adult, regardless of whether or not that’s a realistic goal.

Allergies: Lower level lactose intolerant, but the kind who just pops a lactose pill, says ‘fuck it’, and has his latte anyways.

Sleeping Habits: A pretty solid seven to eight hours a night, in bed before midnight and out before eight 90% of the time. Structure is something Simon actively works for, in the hopes it’ll encourage stability.

Eating Habits: Somewhat of an accidental vegetarian, his typical diet skirts close, but he lacks the moral rigidity on that particular stance. He’s weak once a really good smell hits his nose, meat be damned. Tries to keep his eating habits as regular as sleep, breakfast is a cup of coffee and any fruit he can grab and take downstairs, lunch is grazed from whatever’s on the menu at PK, dinner thrown together before after seven and before nine, always with some sort of fresh green veg involved. It’s tempting sometimes to revert to old college ramen-and-microwaveables habits, but he’s grudgingly taking care of his body with the full knowledge that the work of cooking is worth pushing him for.

Exercise Habits: Swims laps for an hour and half at the YMCA three times a week and tends to bike or walk for groceries, errands, ect.

Emotional Stability: Mmmmm, let’s say 6, 7? There’s plenty of emotions tugging at Simon’s sleeve, but he’s simmered down to a more stable center as time has passed and he’s proven to be good for better or for worse at systematically approaching, sorting, and stuffing down what he thinks is useful to acknowledge or not. He purposefully tries to keep away from situations of high emotion, he knows himself well enough to know once he is propelled to extremes, it’s hard to get himself down from them.

Sociability: Simon definitely needs his alone time to refuel and recenter, but he also needs the stimulation of other people or he’d go stircrazy. He keeps an arm’s length, but he’s also too curious about what’s rattling around in other people’s heads to be a true isolationist and can be very warm with the right crowd. It’s a pleasure to have social connections, as long as he can keep the frame of mind that they can only go so far as PK’s front door.

Body Temperature: Cool-natured, there’s a reason he can get away with wearing suit jackets in summer.

Addictions: Lil bit of a hoarder of sentimental objects. Does not matter is the memory is positive or negative and he doesn’t need to be able to lay eyes on it, just to know it’s within his care.

Drug Use: None.

Alcohol Use: Strictly self-enforced as social. He doesn’t bring booze into his house unless it’s for cooking or a guest. No point in tempting a bad habit.

PERSONALITY.

Label: The Advocate, The Enduring, The Cynical

Positive Traits: driven, educated, perceptive, disciplined, curious, conscientious, discrete, generous, steered by an inner moral code

Negative Traits: dogmatic, detached, stubborn, overly self-reliant, impulsive and bold in matters of principle, deeply buried vulnerability to self-criticism, and the capacity to be truly venomous

Goals/Desires: Stay in his own damn lane while making a life for himself he can actually enjoy.

Fears: Having to start over again, any form of his past biting him in the ass, having an opportunity to do something just but being rendered unable to because of his situation, forgetting the past.

Hobbies: Cultivating Pulp Vintage’s collection is as much hobby as work, swimming, snapping up new posters for the wall of the cafe, listening to podcasts, reading, handheld puzzles, volunteer work. He hasn’t been back to his self-defense course since his first year in Dertosa but his teacher is slowly attempting to wheedle him back into other classes at the gym. Monthly trips back to Dertosa’s legal indoor gun range to keep himself sharp.

Habits: Cleaning those useless glasses as a way to stall a conversation or action, drumming his fingers, the two-handed mug hold, reading behind the cash register, skimming the paper every day from front to back and impulsively checking the news bar on his phone, covering his mouth with his hand while laughing, doing the lazy half-tuck with a shirt, tapping his foot when he’s jazzed up.

FAVOURITES.

Weather: Daytime summer rain, that perfect crisp winter day when the air is frosty in his lungs and the ground is coated in snow. Real winter is one of the big things he misses about the Northeast.

Colour(s): Green, blue

Music: He started playing classic jazz/oldies in PK for the sake of that bookshop aesthetic, but he’s gotten genuinely into a lot of it. Nina Simone, Cab Calloway. Longtime listener to The Black Keys, Red Hot Chili Peppers. Vivaldi, Andrés Segovia.

Movies: Clever comedies or character studies, psychological thrillers, old Hollywood experimental movies, all the campiest of 80s horror. ‘Nightcrawler’, ‘the Exorcist’, ‘Metropolis’, ‘In the Mood for Love’.

Sport: Basketball & fencing. He was a pretty damn good at the latter in high school and he’s entirely self-aware of just how pretentious a thing a boarding school fencing team is to be an alumni of.

Beverage: Water with a few lime slices, sue him for being boring. Guilty pleasure is those stupidly sweet matcha green tea lattes from Starbucks.

Food: Hit him with that spicy shit. Fuck it up with savory flavors. Finish it with good n’ sweet. There’s definitely love for Korean, but he’s big on Thai and Southwestern cuisine as well.

Animal: Panther. Just about any big cat, tbh.

FAMILY.

Father: Jeong Yung-sik, aka Howard Jeong. Incarcerated since 2003, age 67. Eligible for release 2249.

Mother: Jeong Su-jin, aka Sujin Jeong. Deceased as of 2015, aged 56. Official cause of death: craniocerebral ballistic trauma aka a gunshot to the head.

Sibling(s): Jeong Min-chul, aka Erik Jeong. Deceased as of 2002, aged 16. Official cause of death: exsanguination aka prolonged and fatal blood loss.

Children: None, despite liking kids he doesn’t realistically see a future where it’d be wise to have them.

Pet(s): His cats Darlene and Mister Meowgi have the run of Pulp Kitchen, the first named after a character from Mr. Robot, the second by an ex-girlfriend. The pun stuck; Simon still can’t bring himself to rename him. He had to give up his boxer, Odin, when he moved to Dertosa and he misses that damn dog every day.

Family’s Financial Status: Raised very upper class, currently a comfortable upper-middle. Technically, he has none of the money left over from his family’s generous supply, but some of his earnings from his work as an ADA came with him to start him off in Dertosa and fund the opening of Pulp Kitchen.

EXTRA.

Zodiac Sign: Virgo - reliable, practical, critical, seeking goodness while expecting disappointment, prone to overthinking

MBTI: INFJ, ‘The Advocate’ - creative, decisive, perfectionistic, incredibly private, “INFJs have strong beliefs and take the actions that they do not because they are trying to advance themselves, but because they are trying to advance an idea that they truly believe will make the world a better place”.

Enneagram: The heart of Enneagram 8 (the Protector) under a strong shield of Enneagram 5 traits (the Observer) - a conflict between the desire to be confrontational and assertive in issues of justice and protecting the weak and the knowledge that oneself is the person who must be protected first, as well as tendencies towards hoarding and intellectual pursuits.

Temperament: Melancholic - thoughtful, schedule oriented, economical and perceptive, interested in the philosophical and poetic

Moral Alignment: Neutral Good - belief in the intrinsic rights of all beings, drive to help the innocent, desire for justice but a willingness to defy the law and do usually immoral things in order to see that justice happens

Primary Vice: Wrath

Primary Virtue: Charity

Element: Water - evolving, inward, empathetic

#tcrp.task #* MUSING #this picture is a lie simon shaves every day of his damn life #and now after peeping over my shoulder for way too detailed research my father is convinced i'm interested in law school #the things we do for love

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djjazzzyj5555 · 2 years

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I'm having a rough time, so I made a little bit of prose to make myself feel better. It's not finished and gets kinda messy near the end, but I would like some feedback if possible- thank you!

....….......

There's only one light switch in my apartment.

I can't touch it of course- the box around it might be plastic, but it's been melted around the edges into the wall. It wasn't mentioned in the lease agreement when I moved in, but the landlord was quick to point it out when I brought in boxes. Used to be ducktape there before, but I guess the previous tenet found the upkeep annoying.

Landlord said he tries not to take improvements to the apartments out anyway, no matter who added them. That's why all the lights in the apartment can be used with an app too, only a $6.99 a month.

It goes without saying that, at first, I tried not to look at the switch. Like anyone would be, I was scared at first.

But honestly, it's common now, to have apartments like this. Usually not a light switch though- I saw a Buzzfeed article the other day that mentioned contained rooms, applicances, door handles- things way more annoying to lose than a light switch. I lucked out, I think, as I do my daily budgeting- rent first, then bills, then online services, then groceries, and then my meds. Can't forget about fun too.

Like how fun it is when the light switch starts moving.

I won't lie, I might have been a little scared still, but I was excited when I saw it happen the first time. I really wanted to get it on video and have it go viral I guess. Like I get these things are common now but, I still think If I get the right angle, maybe if I could catch it on camera, the video would stand out more. It would be cool to see it take off- maybe it would get really popular and people would want to get my opinion on it- then, best case scenario, they would get bored of the switch and want to watch me instead.

I just think it would be cool I guess.

But my first video of it moving was really bad, like really bad. Couldn't see shit even with the switch going back and forth. Maybe it was making fun of me. It knew I was lame, I guess. I tried not to let it bum me out- I mean it's been here longer than me right? I shouldn't be too eager around it, like you shouldn't be to eager around strangers. You don't want someone who knows nothing about you to assume everything about you, you know?

So now when the light switch moves, I try to make sure the ghost knows I'm not watching. I just look away.

I'll go viral once I can get it to trust me, and then maybe I can get it to do some crazy shit. The point of activity might be a light switch, but the ghost can still use it to do more than turn the lights on and off. Like, I could teach it Morse code or something. Maybe start with yes or no questions? I'll say to it, turn the lights on if you were murdered. Or turn them off if you died of old age. I feel stuff like that is simple enough for a ghost.

I should ask if it likes me once I get it to trust me. I want it to like me. I really want it to like me.

It's my first apartment without a roommate, but it feels like a roommate. An emotionally unavailable roommate. I guess, I'll have to admit, on my bad days, it's more annoying then fun. The app doesn't always like to work right, but the switch always works. When it uses it, literally every light can go off or on. On the bad days, it always uses it in the most annoying ways- turning them on in the middle of the night, turning them off right after I turn them on for work, flipping them freely while I'm in the middle of a depressive episode. That was the worst night I've had in a while.

I don't like admitting I screamed at it. I want it to like me. I really want it to like me.

#prose #short prose #im sorry its not very good im out of practice #it might continue it but it feels nice to write again #ghost #fiction #writing

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familycourtcorruption · 4 years

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Why You Can’t Stop Sleeping With The Narcissist

You may be shocked at how you keep chasing after the narcissist even when he or she is treating you so badly.

The verbal and emotional abuse could be escalating and there may even be threats or realities of other lovers.

You know that you should pull away and stop going back in for more, but you just can’t seem to stop yourself.

In today’s video, we look at exactly why this is happening to you. As well as how to heal from this and be released from this terrible nightmare that is ripping you to pieces.

Video Transcript

Sexual attraction and addiction are very powerful things. A narcissist knows how to trigger that within you.

It can be very hard to understand why you may be feeling the compulsion to keep having sex with a narcissist, even though he or she is treating you horribly.

How can relationships be so compelling horizontally, yet so painful vertically?

This is exactly what we are exploring in today’s TTV episode.

But before we get started, I’d just like to thank all of you for supporting the Thriver Mission by subscribing to my channel, and raising awareness that yes, we can now heal from narcissistic abuse for real.

Okay, now let’s get going on today’s episode.

What is Sexual Obsession?

Sexual obsession is fraught with anxiety. The easiest way to think about this is that the urges are similar to those of any addiction.

The feelings of going without the connection with this person and sex with them, may bring up feelings of loss, emptiness, anxiety and even panic.

All of these feelings are letting us know that we have emotionally entered Wrong Town, meaning that this experience is not a True Self one. Our soul communicates very effectively to us via our feelings, regarding what is healthy or not.

Healthy union brings calm, solid and serene feelings of warmth and love. These are not the emotionally charged highs and lows that come with sexual relations with a narcissist.

One minute you are feeling the hope of being worthy and adored. The next you’re feeling anxious, insecure and abandoned.

I really want you to understand that connection and sexual activity with a narcissist, if intensely compelling, is an addiction cycle. As with all addictions, this comes with the high of the emptiness and the craving being fulfilled. It’s otherwise known as “relief”.

This is akin to a person who is nicotine addicted, craving a cigarette, and then as soon as they draw in the first mouthful of smoke, there is the self-medication of escaping the anxious feelings of not having nicotine.

Yet, truly, as myself and so many other people who were able to give up smoking with NARP processes discovered, there was something much deeper going on emotionally than just nicotine addiction.

Smoking was really an act of trying to fill up and numb out an emotional trauma that wasn’t yet healed.

And it doesn’t work. If we don’t get to the bottom of why we are emotionally craving something that is not good for us, temporary fleeting relief happens when we connect to it, yet the anxiety is never truly fulfilled and healed.

It is always going to keep coming back, much worse than ever.

Sex with a narcissist is the same.

The Narcissist – The Representative of the Unhealed Wound

All addictions have this incredibly insidious cycle, they feel like they are granting us relief, yet they are bringing us more of the same of what we actually need the relief from.

How do you know if you are stuck in this cycle? You know when you are feeling dire emptiness and anxieties when you are going without sex with this person.

Jeannie craved Gary and his touch and lovemaking. If Gary hadn’t contacted her for a few days, professing that he was out of town, Jeannie could barely function.

She believed that this must be proof of her intense feelings of love for him.

It wasn’t until she found out that he had been having affairs all along and then confronted him, that she discovered it was as if she never existed for him.

After feeling beyond broken, Jeannie decided to give NARP healing a go.

In her new healed up Thriver life Jeannie is now with Mark enjoying safe, comfortable and healthy sex. There is zero anxiety when she is not with him.

As Jeannie said, “Until I healed I had no idea what healthy sex was!”

In Jeannie’s previous life, as it was for me and so many of us, we were connected emotionally and sexually to the people who completely and utterly represented our unhealed inner trauma programming.

Let me explain.

Let’s say that you were brought up in a family with a parent who was unavailable to love you. They were too busy and stuck in their own stuff and ignored you.

As a young child you desired connection with them. You may have tried all sorts of things to be noticed, held and loved, to little or no avail.

Your Inner Love Code, since you were a young child consisted of, “the people I love ignore me.” This then becomes, “I am not valuable or worthy of love.” This then means that you will unconsciously try to prove yourself and earn love regardless of how people love you back.

As your now programmed Love Code, this represents the people who are attractive to you. The people who you feel the most chemically bonded to fulfil the prophecy of that belief.

It’s your Love Code. It’s your literal Inner Identity in regard to love.

Sex as an adult represents that unmet and unhealed need for connection as a child. The younger part of you seeking resurrection and healing is hooked on wanting the original role models to do it better this time, and choosing the same unavailable people and program over and over again.

When the Sex Feels so Good

Maybe the sex isn’t that great, however you feel like this is the best sex of your life.

The more chemically charged it is, and trauma bonded, the more heightened the sexual experience can be.

Again think “relief”. The union of sex takes away the agony of separation from it, which really means the separation from being loved and feeling worthy.

Sexual connection with a narcissist is such a powerful bond, that can be incredibly confusing and painful.

It usually ends in disaster, because the cycles of devaluing and discarding inevitably get worse. To add horror to injury, often the narcissist will throw other sexual partners into the mix, leaving you feeling even more devastatingly replaced and abandoned.

Why is all of this happening? To awaken you to understand what is really going on, and why you can’t stop getting into bed with a narcissist, even when it means selling your soul out and compromising your dignity.

Penny had the horrific experience of throwing herself sexually at her narcissistic ex-lover, to try to avoid being replaced and abandoned.

Never before had she lowered her values and standards so much as to offer herself sexually on a plate to him no matter how badly he treated her.

Things got so bad for Penny that she really thought that if she didn’t stop doing this to herself that she would die – that is how serious it was.

(Please know Penny is not alone, you may know exactly what I’m talking about.)

Penny was urged by other members of this community to start doing the NARP work to get to the bottom of why she had lost all her honour, dignity and rights and was behaving in this way.

Thank goodness Penny stopped pursuing him and turned inwards to start her healing. It saved her life.

What she discovered was the young hurt parts of herself that had experienced her father emotionally abandoning her mother, herself and her siblings, and her mother’s pain, devastation and emotional absence as a result.

Penny had literal inner emotional terrors about being abandoned, which had never been healed. Unconsciously the lure of herself sexually was her tool to try to ensure this wouldn’t happen again.

Penny got to the inner work and down to the business of doing NARP Module One over and over again to clear out all of that old trauma.

She experienced profound relief. She stopped thinking about her ex-lover and all urges dissolved away. Because she had resurrected her Inner Being to be a mature healthy woman, instead of a traumatised little girl, Penny felt repulsed by the thought of contacting him again.

The spell was broken.

I really urge you, if you are suffering from sexual compulsion with a narcissist, to feel into your life in the past.

Does this person invalidate you and abuse you in ways that are familiar to you? Is this person distrusting of you in ways that remind you of how you were distrusted, and your boundaries were violated in the past?

Do you again feel like you’re having to prove your worth and value in order to be loved?

If you don’t know what exactly it is that you need to heal, please rest assured that if you do become a NARP member, that NARP bypasses your logical mind and takes you deeply inside yourself to find, release and reprogram the exact trauma that you need to heal.

You don’t have to work it out!

Your Sexual True Self and True Life

I have no doubt that great sex, otherwise known as ‘making love’, is the highest expression of Heaven on Earth. This is when two people can melt into each other in total surrender, becoming an explosion of joy and bliss infinite times greater than the individual parts of themselves.

There is an opportunity – within orgasmic conjoining – to know the true meaning of ‘Oneness’.

This Oneness is true “in-to-me-see”, the ability to completely be ourselves and “naked” with another.

This takes inner healing and development. It requires the willingness to face our unhealed previous business and heal it.

Maybe we have been trying to get love and connection in all the wrong ways.

Maybe we are trying to be the “incredible lover” so we can keep this person from really knowing our fears, our inadequacies, and the parts of ourselves we feel they will reject if they did find them out.

I know that this is really confronting stuff. I also know the glory of breaking through from all of the illusions and obsessions regarding narcissistic love, to get to the other side.

Namely, real, calm, loving and supported lovemaking with somebody who you can be truly naked with.

As well as a durably sustainable relationship with somebody who you can trust and build a life with.

The narcissist is never going to be this person.

If you are ready to embrace the healing and development necessary to get to this level then I’d love to help you.

You can start this journey today by clicking this link.

And please know, with what’s going on in the world right now, with coronavirus, with all of my programs and healing, you don’t need to leave your house.

You don’t need to go to any physical groups and you don’t need to travel to therapists.

You can do profound and revolutionary healing in the comfort and safety of your own home. And you are also connected to an incredible Thriver Healing global support network that has your back at any time when you need help.

Okay, so I hope that this episode has really helped you, and I can’t wait to answer your comments and your questions below.