#cohler

[fuckyou-unbearablyindifferent]

( sms ) : are you really okay?

Texting prompts | Always accepting!

( SMS ): Yes. ( SMS ): No. ( SMS ): I don't know. ( SMS ): I haven't known for a long time but it's fine. Y'know? You get used to not knowing. It becomes numbing. Your new normal. Yeah, that's it. I'm numb. Numb's fine. At least it's an answer.

[foxtaeil-moved]

ACCESSING  WHITE  HOUSE  SERVER      . . .       ACCESS  DENIED       :     @cohler​​​  /       soft  dirty  talk  prompts  (   accepting.   )      ‣       ❝               ❛  all i could think about today was you.  ❜ 👁👁               ❞

neither  of  them  are  in  their  right  mind,  that’s  for  sure.  they’ve  had  too  much  to  drink.  that  is  what  she  should  be  telling  herself.  but  she  cannot  ignore  the  way  something  in  the  air  shifts  with  his  confession,  uttered  just  inches  away.  she  cannot  ignore  the  way  the  temperature  in  the  room  jumps  ten  degrees  when  he’s  looking  at  her  that  way,  ravenous.  he  commands  all  of  her  attention,  he  always  has.  and  so  in  that  split  second,  she  makes  a  decision.  the  senator  meets  him  in  the  middle,  lips  pressed  together  in  an  embrace  needy  and  long - coveted.  they  are  imbalanced,  unstable  on  their  feet  -  she  catches  herself  on  the  counter  behind  her  as  she  corrects  a  slight  stumble.  digits  fly  up  to  explore  sandy  locks  before  doing  permanent  damage  by  tearing  at  the  buttons  on  his  shirt.  “  take  it  off.  “     

[angerbuilt]

( sms ) : you awake?

( sms ) : almost always, unfortunately. ( sms ) : why are you awake?  ( sms ) : something on your mind?

@cohler​​​

[fuckyou-unbearablyindifferent]

( sms ) : i can't sleep.

Texting prompts | Always accepting!

( SMS ): What would you like me to do with this information? ( SMS ): I dunno the first THING about getting to sleep! I'm still at work! ( SMS ): But I'll try to help, I guess? Um. Have you tried the whole counting sheep thing? ( SMS ): Maybe try singing yourself to sleep???? Poetic shit like that????

[unwedead]

@cohler​ said:  “ you’re not safe here. ”

     the smile that had settled on her face quickly drops at his words.  she hadn’t felt unsafe in awhile, so long that the sudden itch of being too settled made her uncomfortable in her skin.  the breath she finds herself holding is slowly exhaled through flared nostrils, allowing her chest to give way to it.  she feels lighter, if only a small amount.  there are a million questions running through her mind, but only one leaves her lips in a flat and dull tone that she almost doesn’t recognize.  “ why? ”

[archived-swallowedblood]

✩.     can you walk?     /     @cohler.

pain a familiar sting,  taste in her mouth one she remembers more than that of even her favorite food.  this is what you get,  was all she could think,  for playing the part of a hero.  she should have known that that was not how the world worked   :   her sins were like a dark mark that shrouded her very being.  no matter how far she ran,  it all inevitably caught up with her in the end.

❛❛     what?  yea...  yea.     ❜❜     his question took a moment to sink in,  confusion,  dizzy spell still playing with her senses.  grasps at her forehead for a second almost as an attempt to gain back consciousness.  no luck though.     ❛❛     are you--  uh,  are you alright?     ❜❜

[foxtaeil-moved]

ACCESSING  WHITE  HOUSE  SERVER      . . .       ACCESS  DENIED       :     @cohler​​   /       locations prompts  (   accepting.   )      ‣       ❝               33. a graveyard               ❞

they  don’t  come  as  often  as  they  used  to  anymore,  these  visits.  how  could  four  years  without  her  boy  have  flown  by  so  quickly?  four  years  since  she’d  watched  in  slow  motion  as  he  fell  to  his  knees,  complexion  tainted  by  the  blood  dripping  from  his  mouth.  four  years  since  she’d  packed  up  all  of  his  things  into  cardboard  boxes,  never  to  see  the  light  of  day  again.  four  years  since  she’d  found  out  it  wasn’t  an  accident.  it  replays  like  a  horror  film  before  her  eyes  as  she  sets  the  flowers  down  before  the  headstone.  it  plays  so  loudly  that  she  almost  doesn’t  hear  the  footsteps  approaching  through  the  grass.  “  rust.  “  surprise  coats  her  exhausted  tone.  she  scoffs  a  little,  then,  a  dark  acknowledgement  of  the  timing  of  it  all.  “  fancy  meeting  you  here.  “      

[evergrein]

ACT  I         ──         TIME:    4:23  PM.        LOCATION:     CURBSIDE  OUTSIDE  OF  HEADQUARTERS.        DISPOSITION:       DISQUIETED,   APPREHENSIVE,   CONTEMPLATIVE.        ACT  II         ──           REGARDING:     NON - VERBAL  PROMPTS.         STATUS:       ACCEPTING.      ( ❛   company .   silently  sit  with  my  muse  to  comfort  them. )

the  irony  of  divinity  is  that  it  does  not  differentiate  between  the  holy  and  unholy.   and  as  she  sits  on  the  cold  curbside,   knees  pulled  towards  her  heaving  chest,   she  can  hear  the  faint  bells  of  a  church  nearby.    it’s  almost  like  the  gospel  taunts  her.     all  yasemin  requires  is  a  minute;   a  clear,  cloudless  minute  devoid  of  all  focus  and  use  of  thought.   but  what  she’s  learned  a  long  time  ago  was  that  it  was  near  impossible  to  turn  her  brain  off.   her  gaze  is  level,   drifting  across  the  street  as  few  cars  whiz  by  every  so  often  and  when  someone’s  presence  is  gently  made  apparent  in  joining  her  side,   she  doesn’t  glance  up.   not  at  first,  anyway.   she  knows  it’s  @cohler​,   can  feel  it  in  the  hollow  of  her  bones.

instead,   she  keeps  her  gaze  steady  and  allows  convergence  upon  the  steady  intake  of  breath.   in  and  out,   in  and  out.   the  depth  of  the  world  and  all  of  humanity  is  a  knowledgeable  artefact    ──     there’s  right  and  wrong,   evil  and  good.    this,   she  knew.   but  it  didn’t  make  it  any  easier.    even  after  years  of  exposure.     ‟  sorry,  i  just  needed  a  minute.   i’ll  be  back  in  soon,  promise.  ”    yasemin  breaks  the  silence  first,   her  cheek  pressed  to  her  knee  as  she  glances  sideward  at  him.