Hear me out luv, it's seal anon again..
I was gonna type a quick praise for "they will get atop of you", because it had me CLAWING at the wall and panting like a feral dog, but then I got carried away and from the bed I sat my ass on my chair and started typing away.
Before I analyze or fangirl over anything.. just wanna say I'm wagging my tail and to be extra cheesy the word "longing" was written on my dictionary long before I knew you, but its true meaning comes out every time I wait for your answer. Won't you give me treats?
On bad days the feeling of someone’s hands around your neck and “don’t you know it, sugar, I love you more than life itself” doesn’t let you as much as look into the direction of normalcy.
HAD MY THIGHS CLENCHING. I love my men flagged as bloody red.
Maybe it's not what you whine for in the dead of the night, curled on a too big, too cold bed - the absence of presence behind you feeling like a phantom pain of the other half you no longer have.
A shiver ran down my spine, cuz luvie who can blame me, your writing plays right in front of my eyes and I'm drooling. Respectfully.
GOT ME MISSING THAT BITCH ASS GRAVES.
Your perfect perfect planning didn’t work out this time and here you are, thousands of miles away from home, in a house that feels as foreign as an extra limb you were not supposed to miss, with pictures of a man who has burned and so did you with him. "In sickness and in health, darlin'." your husband laughs in your head, grief catching up to you in the middle of the supermarket when you try to pick chives.
WE LOVE SCHIZO READERS OR READERS THAT MISS THEIR OTHER HALF SO MUCH THEY IMAGINE THEM TALKING IN THEIR HEAD AS IF THEY WERE THERE, real, tangible, at arm distance that looks like a chasm the moment they reach out.
A limping dog on the side of the road, stubbornly walking somewhere, despite the blizzard and the blinding shine of car lights.
Hashtag hey that's us
You tossed away Phil, did you not? Some poisonous bitter part of you would hiss, catching the whiff of you spiralling down. Not like you should even have this ring after that, it was supposed to be in sickness and health and look at you, sugar, you are in great shape.
IT'S LIKE PHIL IS MOCKING US in our silly little head of ours as our brain rots away with the memory of him, imagining, no, SEEING, HEARING, what he'd say to us if he was alive.
You try not to think about how ‘till death does us part’ wasn’t supposed to be so literal, but here you are, another widow of another man who thought he was immortal and was wrong.
Giggled. Men. Men and their fucking stupid ego that makes them decay six feet under.
A relic to have with you after everything because the ring alone is not enough, because the ring alone is of the husband who was good and who was kind and who loved you.
Let's hum together! When we miss someone we forget all about their evil deeds and behaviors, painting them as sweethearts~
He was not a good man by any metric, but you remember the way he laughed — his eyes creasing in the corners, his warm palm clasping yours when he’d look at you like you were absolutely brilliant, like you were the funniest person in the room.
luv you're just too damn good at writing. I saw the scene playing out right in front of my eyes.
Phillip was not a good man, you tell yourself and can’t help but add: But he was mine.
And that's exactly what fucks people up. Cuz despite people being down right evil, the ones that love them will remember them as theirs. Theirs to hate, theirs to despise, theirs to claw at and theirs to love.
Seven–six–eleven–five–nine-an’-twenty mile to-day, hums the memory of Phillip in your ear and you forget to blink, merging with the black out curtain on your left, arms hanging uselessly down your body. Four–eleven–seventeen–thirty-two the day before
The buzzing in the ear that never leaves. Paranoia or reality?
One of them stopped at the end, turned to look at you in the dark of your living room — strong-jawed and dark-eyed, handsome man, you thought to yourself. He knew you were watching even if he couldn’t see you. Not yet. Not ever, you don’t tilt your head to the side and don’t give him a motion to catch in the corner of his eye. A mistake was made by you many many years ago when you wanted someone like him to discover you and take you a way.
Someone kind, someone good, someone who loved you. But you know this kind of men. You married one of them a lifetime ago.
You have me on leash, one call away. No literally, if I don't show myself after a while, just call me, I will be back n obsessing over you
You watch the man turn away and help his limping friend get up the steps to the house, pad of your thumb digging into the sharp corners of the diamonds in your wedding ring. Yeah, you learned your lesson once. You will not be coming back for more.
Smart move innit. We dont want another military man with an ego bigger than his life span.
In your dreams, Phillip sits on the edge of the bathtub and checks the water temperature, looks back at you with eyes a little too knowing. Always so attentive, you could never hide a thing from him, he couldn’t stand not knowing what it is you are thinking or feeling. In your dreams, Phillip is live and real, curling himself around you — his arms heavy weight on your shoulders, pulling you down, his heat almost feverish when he kisses your face and whispers “stay alert and stay alive, sugar”.
Held my breath, because the delusion and the hope melting in one cocktail of messed up feelings and longing always tastes the best.
You almost hate him when you wake up, because you check your locks and entrances, because you move the gun even closer, because you pack the bag if you’d need to run (again).
THE FACT THAT WE ARE LISTENING TO HIM, EVEN IN OUR DREAMS. woof woof WOOF.
I HAVE TO ADD, IM NOT COMMENTING ON SOOOOOO MUCH TEXTS THAT GOES FROM THIS TO THE NEXT CUZ IT'S SIMPLY CHIEF KISS. I feel everything and more. It makes me long for a man that was mine, or was for a brief moment.
Only when you step deeper inside your house you can feel Phillip humming, practically gentle, scrape of him sharpening the knife in the kitchen that is no longer yours filling the air:
giggling ughshsh kicking my feet n rolling
“If–your–eyes–drop–they will get atop o’ you” and it no longer feels like warmth, shine of your own knives in the morning sun a little menacing. Part of you is expecting to see the familiar iridescent blue in your kitchen window — man’s face pressed so close, he has to smash his nose to the glass just to see you better.
P a r a n o i a ! ~
and a Phil that's clouding our every thought like the paratise that he is
Only there is no one there and no is coming and you are just…you need to relax, you think to yourself. You need to stop flinching when the man with too much authority in his voice starts speaking. But your dead husband taps “boots-boots-boots” out on the inside of your skull, and you come back into the bedroom, polished metal of his gun a soothing comfort in the rage of sunny November.
COURT! HE IS HAUNTING US. Perfectly so
It’s not panic, you tell yourself. You survived him, you are in control now, you did nothing wrong. You are not scared. Only you still pull yourself down in the place under the windowsill and the gun in your hands is heavy and cold.
It's perverted and twisted, but the way you made him so controlling over us that his words, manners and behavior stick to us like gorilla glue has me mewling.
There is no discharge in the war, you think to yourself, Phil sure did take care of that.
FANGIRLING, YUUUP, MAN MADE SURE WE WERE HIS EVEN IN DEATH.
SO. I'm back, at least for a bit. Can't promise anything darlin', I'm like an hookup that comes back for more n takes takes takes and leaves, only to repeat it all over again.
But sweetheart you're ADORED by me. Never forget it!! Kisses n more
-🦭 anon
I was gonna type a quick praise for "they will get atop of you", because it had me CLAWING at the wall and panting like a feral dog, but then I got carried away and from the bed I sat my ass on my chair and started typing away.
I am gonna be honest, I did not expect this one to be the first you dig in, but hey, I do like it a lot, because what's better than grieving a person that exists only in your head because even in his life he wasn't that man...
Before I analyze or fangirl over anything.. just wanna say I'm wagging my tail and to be extra cheesy the word "longing" was written on my dictionary long before I knew you, but its true meaning comes out every time I wait for your answer. Won't you give me treats?
Depends.
But you are definitely getting appreciation for the re-emerging. As said previously, it is very lovely to see you around these parts, dear friend, imagine me writing "seal anon" in cursive and drawing flowers around.
Something something dear diary, the dark days are in fact over, we shall dance and we shall feast.
HAD MY THIGHS CLENCHING. I love my men flagged as bloody red.
You have no idea, but "flagged as bloody red" imprinted on my brain so hard just now. I should have thought of that description... What a fucking line, seal, this is so true. I will think about it for a while now, this is such a good opening.
A shiver ran down my spine, cuz luvie who can blame me, your writing plays right in front of my eyes and I'm drooling. Respectfully. GOT ME MISSING THAT BITCH ASS GRAVES.
You see, so many people dislike Phillip, each for their own reasons, but I actually do hold a lot of affection for him, because out of the whole set of characters, he is the most familiar to me.
Because, at the end of the day, don't we all know at least one man who genuinely thinks himself above the rest? Who holds affection for his loved ones and yet they are never on the same level as him, not in his perception.
Phillip as a character is many wonderful things, but I do love, how confident, how borderline corrupting he is in his original state because he is so absolutely American military. What else is there to say
WE LOVE SCHIZO READERS OR READERS THAT MISS THEIR OTHER HALF SO MUCH THEY IMAGINE THEM TALKING IN THEIR HEAD AS IF THEY WERE THERE, real, tangible, at arm distance that looks like a chasm the moment they reach out.
Let's be gentle to Reader. Also I do not like the slurs of mental illnesses, so let's not use them around here. It's not nice.
And don't we all sometimes reach out for a version of someone that is no longer there and hasn't been there for a long long time.
Hashtag hey that's us
Hashtag my crawl, yeah
IT'S LIKE PHIL IS MOCKING US in our silly little head of ours as our brain rots away with the memory of him, imagining, no, SEEING, HEARING, what he'd say to us if he was alive.
Your interpretation is very interesting to me, because I was writing that part with the intention of Reader's actual inner voice being meaner than the voice of their late husband, because they do blame themselves for surviving. For so long Phillip was the sun in their sky and now he is gone, but the sky hasn't fallen and the world isn't crumbling, and it feels a little like being cheated out of the promise of inevitable doom.
The vows said "till death does us part" and yet, the death came, only not for the Reader, and not for both of them. Who knew, they'd get the "part" portion of the saying and not the "death" one.
Giggled. Men. Men and their fucking stupid ego that makes them decay six feet under.
True. Also, the "that makes them decay six feeth under" is another awesome way to phrase it, I am going to roll that sentence in my head as well.
Let's hum together! When we miss someone we forget all about their evil deeds and behaviors, painting them as sweethearts~
I think, in this instance, what's heavier is the fact that Reader remembers the bad side of Phillip as well. It's just that now, when he is gone, the happier times stand out in the dark because these has always been brighter, you know?
Something something, it is challenging to just stop loving someone once you have already loved them for a long while, even if you know what they did, even if partially you have been their collateral too, even if the life would have been easier if Reader never met Phillip.
And yet, if the time was reversed, I doubt, they could avoid him again.
People do like the sun and the warmth that it brings. As for the burns...well, they heal, don't they? And after so long, do you really remember how much it hurt? Maybe it wasn't so bad, maybe you are stronger now and it won't hurt at all, maybe this time he won't hurt you because you are better?
luv you're just too damn good at writing. I saw the scene playing out right in front of my eyes.
Believe it or not, but I did see it play out in front of me as well while I was writing it. For me, it also taps into this constant obsession with beauty that this guys suddenly lacks in this fic. Because all out of a sudden, what he is drawn to, what makes you so special, what strokes just right is the fact that you make him laugh and you make him happy and what he perhaps valued so much, was the fact that you are so out of his usual bubble that through the walls of it your light could have looked like rainbow.
Like a wonder of a person that knows what to say and never pauses before telling a joke that makes him wheeze.
And that's exactly what fucks people up. Cuz despite people being down right evil, the ones that love them will remember them as theirs. Theirs to hate, theirs to despise, theirs to claw at and theirs to love.
That is actually my favourite part of this snippet, I think. Like i mentioned before, because it is so difficult to stop loving someone. And at times, it can be so so difficult to come to a realisation that what happened to you wasn't deserved - it just did. It wasn't some grand punishment you earned, it just was exactly what it was. Someone who thought that love justifies everything.
The buzzing in the ear that never leaves. Paranoia or reality?
There is something comforting in having the scariest person you know, become this sort of angel on your shoulder. There is certain reassurance in being haunted, I think. At least, that means they are still there. They still care enough to come back and whisper things in your ear, working through your neural pathwats so that the thought that comes to your mind is said with the exact intonation you thought you no longer remembered.
Random fact, but did you know, that voice is the first thing that we forget about a person?
Smart move innit. We dont want another military man with an ego bigger than his life span.
"Ego bigger than ihs lifespan" aw, get out of here, what the heck. Another good description. Although, funny thing is, I think initial ask was supposed to be 141 x Reader, but i derailed halfway so it become Reader vs everyone.
Something something it doesn't exactly matter how much a handsome man smiles when you know that his mouth is full of teeth and a long time ago you got to count each with your own neck.
Held my breath, because the delusion and the hope melting in one cocktail of messed up feelings and longing always tastes the best.
You know, I molded this dynamic out of someone I used to know, because at the end of the day what Reader knows is that bad Phillip has always been on their side and that bad Phillip not only protected them as much as he understood what protection meant but he was absolutely competent in what he used to do.
So if one would like to imagine their bad dead husband comforting them and sharpening the knife of their mind, well, why not. If it helps then it helps.
THE FACT THAT WE ARE LISTENING TO HIM, EVEN IN OUR DREAMS. woof woof WOOF. I HAVE TO ADD, IM NOT COMMENTING ON SOOOOOO MUCH TEXTS THAT GOES FROM THIS TO THE NEXT CUZ IT'S SIMPLY CHIEF KISS. I feel everything and more. It makes me long for a man that was mine, or was for a brief moment.
Like I said, he is the scariest person we know and he had a massive baggage of tricks up his sleeve in regard to getting out of pit jars on his average Tuesday. So if the evil dead husband is kissing you sweetely and telling you reasonable survivalist things, you are probably gonna do them.
I mean, don't we all to have a Devil on our side, at least once in a while?
P a r a n o i a ! ~ and a Phil that's clouding our every thought like the paratise that he is
You know, what's interesting is the fact that it probably was missed, but Reader did not think that Phillip is the one who will stare at her through the window. She expected to see Johnny there.
Also he rreally does re-emerge in Reader's head like Green Goblin's mask, i swear to god
It's perverted and twisted, but the way you made him so controlling over us that his words, manners and behavior stick to us like gorilla glue has me mewling.
He is gaslighting, gatekeeping and manslaughtering his way into never getting divorced. Also, Phillip would enjoy having someone actually listen to him like that without him needing to actually do something.
Probably sings "Mother knows best" in his showers too, who knows.
FANGIRLING, YUUUP, MAN MADE SURE WE WERE HIS EVEN IN DEATH.
I wouldn't describe it exactly as that, because keep in mind that actual Phillip is actually dead. He is not anywhere near Reader - for the most part it is their grief and trauma talking, not their actual husband.
I think it did feel fair for me to end it like that, because there is something about being a favourite of the scariest person's you know.
SO. I'm back, at least for a bit. Can't promise anything darlin', I'm like an hookup that comes back for more n takes takes takes and leaves, only to repeat it all over again. But sweetheart you're ADORED by me. Never forget it!! Kisses n more
Thank you, I really do appreciate that and you circling back the orbit to meet me again in here on the cusp of us all finally getting some more sun after this dreadful winter.
And hey, I do have a certain appreciation for the french-style relationships, consider our entanglement entangled, I am getting out of our interactions as much enjoyment as you, I hope.
Anyways, even if my door doesn't seem to be open - the windows always are, so don't hesitate to climb through with a rose and another review of whichever thing of mine you enjoyed or just some idle small talk.
Like I said, I do enjoy our interactions immensely. You are a treat.