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@harlowrenier
Harlow Renier + Text Posts (1/??)
harlowrenier:
“I’ve been through required therapy, and have sought out my own afterward plenty of times. I’ve yet to find anyone that can help, Harlow. I’ve still got check ups monthly. I can’t simply google and dial a number. The military has protocols that I have to follow– including finding someone with the correct specialization that they assign. After the seventh failure it gets tiresome.” Heaving a sigh, Carter let his head thud against the cabinet behind him. “I don’t want to talk about Livia anymore, alright? Not now.” As usual, he didn’t need a mirror to confirm the truth behind Harlow’s revelation. Carter looked like shit a lot lately. “Rest isn’t an appealing option. Especially here.” He was glad neither she or Livia would ever know why behind closed eyelids. “As usual, I feel like a corpse.”
“Aside from some of your comments, that’s the stupidest thing I’ve heard all night. I get security concerns and the like but not allowing you to choose your own psychiatrist or therapist is a bit much. I think making sure your soldiers’ mental health is well or improving is far more important than living up to a reputation of ruling with an iron fist.” Frowning, she inhaled a breath, ready to remind Carter that avoiding his problems with Livia wouldn’t make them go away. Looking at him, however, she hesitantly decided to let the subject go. He was exhausted and it showed. Thus, she tucked the lecture away for later. “It’s not a matter of appealing to you,” she corrected him. “It’s that you need it.” Harlow’s eyes swept the room. The state of it at the moment didn’t scream comfort and she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to leave Carter alone in such a place given his frame of mind. “You can stay at my place?” she offered, reverting her attention back to Carter. “Cadence can come, too. That way the both of us can keep an eye on you and make sure you don’t do anything reckless.”
harlowrenier:
“I never wanted to see someone,” Carter confessed, “Livia just..crept up on me.” But there was no sense in reminiscing, let alone dwell on the state of what was once a relationship. Cadence swept her cranium beneath the palm of his spare hand and rested a white maw upon his thigh. “You didn’t have to mean it like that. It’s how it is.” His head tilted away for a brief reprise. There was quite a strenuous difference between reading words off paper and from someone’s lips. When Harlow set her hand over his own, Carter returned his attention to upcoming words. “It’s the ‘not me’ that I’m afraid of. The one I have no control over, and what it can do. I’m supposed to rely on a little pill to keep it in check all my life? That’s a risk I’ll take for myself with no choice, but not one I will subject Livia to. At least respect that.”
“The best ones always do.” Harlow shook her head. “But it’s not. I mean, if you’re a danger to her health it is but I don’t think you are. In fact, I think the only person who does is you. So, don’t martyr yourself, Carter. That’s the worst thing you can do, believe me.” She allowed the words to briefly linger in the air before continuing. “Although, you’re right. One solitary pill isn’t enough. That’s why I’m telling you to get more help than that. You’re sitting here talking about much safer Liv is away from you yet it’s evident you love her and not having her here feels worse than I think you’d like to admit. The way I see it, you have two choices, Carter: you can give Livia up out of fear or you can do something about the other you to make sure the safest place she can ever be is with you. And if I were you, I’d choose the latter, if not for myself than for her.” Giving his hand a final squeeze, she retracted her arm. “Anyway, I think you should get some rest. You look like you’re on the verge of dying.”
harlowrenier:
Carter snorted at her response. “Say what you will. Easier said than done.” There were some definitions that couldn’t be shook– just like the images they were linked to. Monster didn’t even begin to some up what the ex soldier felt about the situation. “Professional help is bullshit. No one is a professional with these things. They’ve got pretty credentials and suggestions that don’t work. The government loves to make a show of ‘being there for their troops at home’, but it’s more of a facade than anything. Take it from someone who has tried time and time again. As for Livia..” He rubbed weary eyes. “I’ve told her plenty of times to stay away from me. Especially on an off day, Harlow. She doesn’t listen, and I’ve no control over her stubborn disposition. Don’t you dare fault me for that.” His back slid against a cabinet as he found the floor, and he ignored the wetness of Cadence’s nose when it pressed against his cheek. “I’m glad she’s gone, too.” She was safer a millennium away.
It was his last words that finally shook the merciless fury from her body. For a moment, she wondered what it felt like to be him— to see what he’d seen and feel what he felt. “Then don’t see someone,” she relented. “But you still need help, Carter. Be it from a trained professional or a friend. There’s nothing wrong with not being able to handle everything on your own. There’s no dishonor in that.” Heaving a small sigh, she took a seat beside him, finally noting the exhaustion riddling his features. “Well, the two of you have that in common then. The both of you can’t take advice for shit.” Softening her tone, she placed a hand over his. “Hey,” she began. “I didn’t mean it like that.” She paused for a moment, searching his face. “Whatever the hell you’ve convinced yourself you are, Carter, you’re not and Livia knows that. That’s why she refuses to leave. Like you said, she’s stubborn and love is no exception to that nature. I may not know a lot about relationships but I know that the both of you bring out the best in each other. Don’t give up on her because you’re afraid of yourself.”
harlowrenier:
He couldn’t obtain it all. Even without the medicated haze that had whisked him away, there was no way Carter could keep up with Harlow’s rage induced rant. “When the person in front of you has their head blown to bits you can talk to me about these pills. Or maybe when you’ve murdered children because some psycho decided to strap bombs to their chests and send them to your camp. I can’t leave the building without something going haywire. These,” he plucked a capsule from the table, “aren’t a fucking excuse. They’re an unfortunate side effect that come with the job.” In a sense, he sobered. He was nowhere near where he should have been, but in the moment it was as good as his head would get. “I don’t even like them, you know. I wouldn’t take them if I had a choice. Without them, Livia could have been dead by now. I’m sure she doesn’t talk about that when the two of you go have fun, but it’s the truth. That’s what happens when you have episodes around people. So excuse me for the side effects of war. Don’t try to tell me what weakness is. Don’t try to berate me on something you don’t understand.”
His words resonated with her. He was right. Harlow didn’t understand. She’s never been to war or seen its horrors aside from a few filtered documentaries. And yet, whether caused by her anger or an inability to comprehend, her gaze remained largely unforgiving. “Would you cut the ‘I’m a monster’ crap? Carter, what you did in war— killing those kids— wasn’t a choice. If you hadn’t done that, more people would’ve died. Performing a horrific action that you had little choice in doesn’t make you a horrific person. I can’t imagine what you see when you sleep at night but fuck me, there comes a point when you have to realize that relying on anything but yourself to pull you through is pathetic,” she slapped a few pills in his direction. “These may have been prescribed for your PTSD but downing them with alcohol doesn’t seem like you’re using them for such. And as for Livia, if you’re truly that much of a danger to be around maybe it’s time you seek some professional fucking help on the daily because if what you say is true, I’m fucking glad Livia’s away from you. Trauma isn’t an excuse for addiction or violence, Carter. It explains it but it doesn’t excuse it. And that’s something you need to learn and fast.”
harlowrenier:
By the time he could register Harlow’s abrupt entrance she was beginning to scold him of her findings. He plucked the pill bottle from her grasp, nearly tripped over Cadence as he leant against the counter for support. “These are prescription,” he drawled, “for the mess inside my head.” And it was empty, much to his distaste. Turning to the cupboard to his left, Carter began rummaging through various pain meds until he found the bottle his sins desired. “So I don’t accidentally kill someone. After all, that’s really what PTSD does, right?” It took more energy to open the bottle than it did to speak in his state. When the lid did give, the medication spilled atop granite. “Get out of my apartment.”
"Either you’re stupider than I ever imagined or you think I'm an idiot,” Harlow snapped. “Do you really expect me to believe this basket case display is the result of you taking your prescribed dosage? Look at yourself— you can’t even open the fucking bottle without spilling it everywhere.” With each minute she spent looking at him, Harlow’s rage bloomed. Watching him was pitiful. It was evident that whatever Carter had taken had reduced him into a stumbling, pathetic mess and her disgust with it all was palpable. “You know, I used to think you were right and that it was war that left you in ruins but it’s your own fucking self, Carter. You pity yourself because poor little you went through war, lost his hearing, and now he has nothing. You think you deserve to take pills because of what you’ve been through but you don’t. You have so much around you but you refuse to see it because you’re too busy staring at the bottom of a prescription bottle. I may not have gone through what you have but I know that relying excessively on pills because life is too hard is pathetic. All of us have demons, Carter, you’re just obsessed with letting yours consume you. That’s weakness.”
harlowrenier:
The prick of Cadence’s ears couldn’t compare to the attention Carter worshipped the bottle with. But it had gone dry; he knew by the lack of poison enveloping his mouth at the tip back of the glass. Cadence nudged his leg. His phone was lost to the chaos that was once a somewhat organized living space. There were bottles, strewn. Prescription pills, scattered about the counter from when he’d attempted to open a lid– clearly intoxicated. He plucked a thin, white capsule from the countertop and popped it between his teeth. Cadence nudged his leg with more force. A growl caught in his throat as he crossed– moreso stumbled across– his threshold. “Not a good time,” Carter slurred upon the opening of his door, “rather horrible, actually.”
She didn’t know which alerted her first— the glazed, reddened eyes or his inability to keep a coherent tone. All Harlow knew was that Carter was drunk and quite drunk at that. Pushing herself past him without a word, she stalked deeper into the room. She didn’t know what she’d expected— a few empty glasses maybe— but when she was met with the sight of pills littering the counter, it wasn’t it. Her pace slowed as she approached the mess, a nearly disbelieving hand picking up the nearest empty bottle. “What the fuck is this?” she asked, turning to face him. “Is this what you do?” The words lingered in the air. “Pop pills in your room like a fucking teenage junkie?”
@deafxdefying
Harlow wasn’t one to meddle. Pry? Sure. But, meddle? Now, that was a rarity. In fact, had she not been as close to either Carter or Livia, the most she would’ve done was give mundane advice. However, the reality was that Harlow cared deeply for the both of them and sensing how hurt yet stubborn Livia was, she knew Carter could only be the same. So, she took it upon herself to pay him a visit. She’d gotten Livia’s side of the story now it was Carter’s turn. Picking up a small box of pastries from Mon Amie, Harlow found herself standing outside his door. Intuition let her know he was home and thus she pounded on the door— not to get Carter’s attention but Cadence’s, knowing it was the dog who would alert her friend of her presence. That is, in addition to the text she’d sent earlier, of course.
I pretend a lot. And that drowns me.
hasher-iwm (via wnq-writers)
1944 ● Time Warp
subject: park avenue past event
character age: twenty-six
timeframe: 1944
triggers: domestic abuse
resources: x, x, x, x, x, x
harlowrenier:
“You say it like that’s a bad thing.” She quipped, for a moment feeling a little bit lighter, though really her dark mood had just been repressed for a moment. Still, it was a relief to be free of it, however temporarily, and she had her fiend to thank for that. “It’s an honour not many people can boast so if that doesn’t give you any indication of what level of friendship we’re at, nothing will.” As far as Livia was concerned, the only person who could rival her friendship with Harlow was Grace. Between the two of them she had a solid support base, when she actually chose to use it instead of just internalising everything. Harlow and their friendship had been unexpected but it was now something she valued over more than anything else and if it was the only good thing that came out of her time in New York she’d happily take it. Giving her friend a stern look as she talked down about herself. Livia had never loved herself but she’d more or less come to terms with the parts of her she’d rather weren’t there and was self assured, something which she wanted for her friend. “Come off it, Harlow. Sure you can get on people’s nerves sometimes but you have a heap of great qualities and God knows I’m not perfect. We’ve all got our flaws, just let the people that care about you do that.” Looking away once more, she felt her reluctance to be open creep back up again. As ironic as it was with how blunt she was with opinions, feelings were always so difficult for her and her feelings on the subject of Carter were something she’d be more than happy not to delve into. Easier to convince herself that there was nothing to be done and move on. Less said the better. “Pretty sure he’s already decided that it’s not worth saving. I don’t know if it’s something he could move past even if he wanted to and I’m not about to get rejected twice.” And maybe that was the root of it all, her insecurities about herself in a relationship. It hadn’t been something she’d ever wanted before but with Carter she had, except it had been too good and she hadn’t known what to do about it, hadn’t known how to let herself be with someone. “There’s no point in finding somewhere to start when it’s already over.”
“When you’re like 5′3, being ready for a fistfight all the time probably isn’t in your best interest,” Harlow laughed. “Fair point. How many people can say they’re exempt from the wrath of Livia Lawson? Probably five at most, including me.” Being as extroverted as she was, Harlow had always had plenty of friends but hardly any who were truly close to her. Added that she’d isolated herself from most of them during her last couple of relationships and Livia was probably the only person Harlow was absolutely sure she could consider a friend. Scratch that, at this point, Livia was Harlow’s best friend. So, when she shut down her self-deprecation, she both appreciated and doubted it. “Relax, Liv, I was kidding,” Harlow brushed off the comment with a white lie. “Besides, now’s not the time to talk about my insecurities. We’d be sitting here for a year straight if we did that, arguing back and forth until we died. Or killed each other.” Harlow scrutinized her friend, analyzing the way her gaze dropped. She knew the subject of emotions made Livia uncomfortable— hell, it made Harlow uncomfortable at times. But, it was a necessary evil and she wasn’t going to let her friend get away with pushing them down. Coming from experience, it was a method that never worked especially for things like relationships. “Well, if Carter’s willing to let this go so easy and be so unforgiving, consider this loss a gain,” she told her. “Look, Liv, like I said, what you did wasn’t right and Carter has a right to be angry but it was one mistake. A big one but one nonetheless. If he can’t forgive you or even listen, the relationship is better off dead,” Harlow paused. “But knowing you and knowing Carter, I can’t imagine that he’s willing to drop you as simply as you claim. So, stop being so ‘woe is me.’ The problem isn’t that it’s over, Livia, it’s that you’ve already decided it’s not worth trying because like you said, you don’t want to be rejected. That’s your issue.” Looking at her past, Harlow was by no means an expert on relationships. However, as her problem was that she always tried too hard to make it work, she knew that not trying hard enough was often just as bad. So, she offered Livia her advice. A little idealistic perhaps but, it was worth something if nothing else.
harlowrenier
( Bob’s nagging look did not escape him as he wrapped an arm around the dog’s torso and held him a bit too close for comfort. No more open doors from now on, Ethan promised internally. )
“ He’s not little, he’s thirteen. “
( The thoughts he kept having arose like volcanoes from the depths of a mind full of torturous musings. Bob was an old dog, that wiggled and twisted in his embrace to resume his exploration. Ethan stood as still as a rock, picking his mind to find a phrase that would set the tension aside. )
“ Uh— It’s seven thirty. What are you doing up? “
As soon as Bob was secure in Ethan’s arms, Harlow allowed hers to drop. Despite being a relatively small dog, he was quite heavy and it showed in the relief her muscles felt once he was passed on.
❝ He’s little, ❞ Harlow repeated. ❝ Haven’t you heard all dogs are puppies regardless of age? ❞
She gave a nonchalant shrug at his inquiry. ❝ Doctor’s appointment, ❞ she explained. ❝ Being the genius I am, I scheduled an appointment early, believing I’d get to skip out on a few hours of work— except today just so happens to my day off. Classic me. ❞
Aryan < -- > Harlow
Aryan: Don't be, see it as a challenge and prove me wrong.
Aryan: You sure this is one of those times? Fantastic, see you then.
Harlow: I'm still offended.
Harlow: No but yes. Great! Can't wait.
@harlowrenier
Harlow Renier & Livia Lawson Moodboard
Bonus:
harlowrenier
( Ethan hissed once again before his eyes finally landed on his dog, looking as satisfied as a dog’s features betrayed, in Harlow’s arms. He felt a sting of jealousy since Bob rarely curled up beside him or approach him at will. The closest they’d gotten since he picked up the animal from the temporary shelter after Koda’s funeral, was Bob’s habit of climbing onto the bench to sit next to him during the morning walk. The feeling soon wore off. Bob surely knew who was at fault for his owner’s death. )
“ More like someone tricked me into letting them escape. ” “ And it worked. “
Scratching Bob’s ear, Harlow walked over. A staunch animal lover, she found that many times Harlow was almost as glad to see the dog as she was Ethan. Not having a pet of her own, she tended to cherish whatever canine time she could, finding simple joy in as little as petting them. Nevertheless, the brunette held him out for Ethan to take. While Harlow wasn’t one to be superficial, she was wearing a black top. The last thing she wanted was to arrive at the doctor with a dusting of white fur on her to cap off what was sure to be a late arrival.
❝ I’m not sure if that says more about you or him, ❞ Harlow teased. ❝ Besides, I’m sure cute, little Bob here is innocent and just wanted to do some exploring. ❞