chen chen / moonlight (2016) / fiona apple / stand by me (1986) / clementine von radics / shoplifters (2018) / marina / the florida project (2017) / tracy chapman

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@ziellos
chen chen / moonlight (2016) / fiona apple / stand by me (1986) / clementine von radics / shoplifters (2018) / marina / the florida project (2017) / tracy chapman
your fist can split a mirror into 1000 hungry knives, they are singing your name. will you answer them back? we are always singing
— torrin a. greathouse, from “Ablution with Violent Intrusive Thoughts” published in Ghost Proposal
pariahcard:
Maybe if he had understood Andrew better or if he had seen him spar with Renee, Aaron may have been able to see that Andrew’s heart wasn’t in the fight. Maybe if he had seen Andrew commit his violence for longer than a handful of seconds he may have been able to see that Andrew was holding back, that while his punches connected, that the pain was nothing more than jolts of impact that shocked but left no real damage in their wake. Maybe if he had split his focus more into studying his brothers fighting stance and his thrown punches, then maybe he might have been able to figure out that Andrew – violent and more often than not cruel – couldn’t hurt him. If he had seen it, if he had figured it out there would have been no way that Aaron would have been able to keep his hands up.
But he didn’t see it and he didn’t figure it out.
Too wrapped up within his own paranoia to protect himself, to shield himself that he simply didn’t notice that he wasn’t in pain. He simply expected it, regressing back into a natural instinct that was to ignore the pain until living with it became second nature.
But Andrew’s gloved hands are slipping under his guard, connecting with his ribs, his stomach and waist. Slipping past his guard to connect with his face, blows that startled, jolted and surprised but again didn’t leave any permanent or bloody prints behind. Yet every blow seemed to bring Aaron closer to the edge, like poking a bear over and over and over until finally there was a reaction.
Aaron hated the ugly anger he contained deep within himself, the creature that he kept chained as close to his chest as he could, the monster that had his mothers voice and his mothers hands. He kept it as far from the surface as he could, locked away where he never wanted it to get out but it was slipping through the cracks with every impact of Andrew’s gloved fists. The longer they sparred, the further it peeked out until he was throwing punches with the intention to cause pain. And then it wasn’t about fighting Andrew – hell, he couldn’t even SEE Andrew – it became about letting that gnawing animal in his chest out just for a moment, just for a second, just for an instant.
Aaron threw a fist that carried with it years of pent up rage and frustration and when it connected, even Aaron flinched and within an split second —- Aaron had that creature by the throat and was hurling it back into it’s cage. He felt horror at first, horror at his own fists, at his own anger and his own loss of control, then came the fear. A knee jerk reaction, the same kind of fear that grasped him whenever he had spoken back to Tilda or had done something that he knew would upset her. The kind of broken China fear and apprehension that set his nerves tumbling over the edge and Aaron jerked forward, hands dropped as he reached out without thinking because now their was panic.
He hadn’t meant to. It was an accident. Oh god. Oh god, this isn’t what he wanted. “Fuck, Andrew! Are you – ?”
Sometimes Andrew thinks it’s in their genes. Maybe all their messed up tendencies were inherited in blood. Maybe Tilda was also like them, too broken and too dysfunctional to take care of her very own sons. Like the exploding instances of his emotions, those moments don’t usually last. His detachment allows him to see things clearer but only from a great distance, and that is probably why he never managed to crack the case that is himself and his brother.
He cannot fight back, not because of some sickening pride -- his punches hurt but so does his brother’s -- but the simple fact that Aaron is his brother. Once upon a time, Aaron was one of the few people he promised to protect, and Andrew did not have to process his emotional attachment as long as he could hide behind a verbal contract. But thanks to Neil, he was forced to call it off, and now he has no excuse but to face his twin.
Aaron’s in his own world now and his every punch is angrier than the previous. Holding both hands up to shield his face, Andrew was backed into a corner. I should fight back and hold him down, he thinks, but just at the very moment he lets himself be distracted, Aaron’s gloved fist connects with his cheek so hard his ears start ringing.
He falls, sudden and loud, not even bracing himself. The padding beneath them avoided too much impact but Andrew doesn’t climb back up immediately. His entire left cheek glows red and burns, and when he finally pushes himself into a sitting position, a trail of red flows down his nostril.
He wipes his nose and flinches at the pain. For just a split second, archived memories threaten to break out. He sucks in a deep breath and forces them down. Then he laughs, almost sounding amused.
“So you can throw a punch.”
For you, a thousand times over.
Khaled Hosseini, The Kite Runner (via bookmania)
unpopular opinion but the perfect court is literal shit
COPY & PASTE INTO NEW POST POST 5 PERSONAL HEADCANONS TAG 10 PEOPLE
his knives have pastel hilts longer than the blades. on the butt, there are scratched out initials of renee’s dead name.
andrew doesn’t hate colours that much. in fact, he hates everyone’s reaction to him wearing colours more.
he has really messy handwriting. not that he needs to write a lot anyways.
he only had matzoh ball soup once. it was the first dinner he had with tilda and aaron, served most unwillingly. ever since tilda died, nobody would make it anymore. andrew thinks that maybe one day he will make it for aaron, or it may be the other way around.
he loves eating and drinking straight out of jars and/or cartons. he used to do it, too, mostly because everyone hated it. kevin nagged him to no ends and even went to wymack. it all happened before neil.
tagged by @bulgariantrcsh tagging @likeabrand @wxntdiealie @claimedhorizons
thank u sm raw for this
deadliestxpiece:
Andrew was harsh, but he told it like it is. Wymack did too, but he’s started to add the whole ‘father son’ dynamic into their conversations and it made Kevin uncomfortable. Everyone else either treated him like an addict, or was Neil who just shrugged because he had no clue how to deal with things either. So Andrew was his best bet.
“Touche.” Kevin mumbled. “It’s…hard I guess. Because I had Riko holding me up, and then it was you. And now it’s like someone shoving me off a roof and telling me to start flying” Pointing his empty glass at Andrew he narrowed his eyes “Don’t get any ideas. It was just an expression.”
That’s when Neil walked by, Nicky leaning heavily on him, babbling on about something, and Kevin glanced at the blonde in front of him. “How’s that going, by the way?”
Pushing Kevin Day off the edge of Fox Tower has its certain appeal. Kevin Day is a legendary icon, after all. Who is to say this man can’t fly?
Everyone likes to stick their noses where they don’t belong. Kevin is clearly changing the topic so Andrew will get off his back. Andrew’s glare turns sharp at the question but it quickly simmers down to a lifeless stare. “Never thought you were a Hemmick-Reynolds hybrid, Day.”
Fingers itch for stimulation so the goalkeeper starts piling up the empty shot glasses. If they are not empty when he finds them, they will be in a second. “Annoying,” he pauses, glancing up. “Like you. Like everything else. Maybe I will push you both off the roof.”
blindhim:
Cosmo had come to realize over time that Andrew let him get away with a little more than he might let most people, though the hacker had it pegged mostly down as Andrew’s amusement of him rather than anything else but even Cosmo sometimes could push his luck. He had gotten a little better at determining where the middle ground was and the fact that Andrew hadn’t reached across the table to punch him in the nose, that he hadn’t pulled one of his knives out and that he hadn’t tried to strangle him meant he was doing okay.
He opened his mouth to retort but Andrew’s wide grin had peaked to possessed and before he could apologize, Andrew had swiped his phone off of the table with a harsh jerk of his wrist. Cosmo lifted his hands and let them fall back onto the table in defeat, “C’mon man” he protested weakly as the phone hit the floor and skidded across it to one of the chairs on the opposite side of the diner.
“Fine.” he was slow in pushing himself up to his feet but he wandered across the room to grab his phone up off of the floor, rubbing it against his pants leg before checking for damage as he returned to his seat. “Alright, so he has no digital footprint, no friends, cellphone records or arrest reports. All I’ve got is the same file Hernandez sent to Wymack and a teachers report that tells us that he’s smart but ‘could speak up more in class.’”
Common people aren’t this thorough. In a digital age like this, it is nearly impossible to leave no footprints behind at all. The bread crumbs are out there, whether Cosmo can find it or not, and Andrew knows once the media has their eyes on Neil Josten, their new nobody striker will immediately be on the Raven’s radar as well.
He doesn’t need to roll a die to know the low chances of circumstances turning out to be in their favour -- Kevin’s favour.
By the time Cosmo is back in his seat, Andrew has almost emptied his milkshake. Loud and obnoxious, the slurping continues though sounding more of air than thick dairy delights. Josten is a dead end for now and Andrew decides he will take things into his own hands from now on.
Regardless, Andrew seems delighted enough at Cosmo’s mild frustration. He finds violence a rather effective statement. People tend to grasp the idea of NO right away. If they don’t -- if Cosmo doesn’t -- next time maybe he will break something. He will make sure of it.
“Anything else you’d like to offer me before I kick you out?” He picks up a handful of cold fries and starts scraping up the milkshake in the tall glass, then shoving them all into his mouth.
aesthetic hotdog
blog / instagram
an actual baby angel
if i could extend the J man
hebrew version aka i have no sense of spacing consistency
if i could extend the J man
no twins are 100% identical and here is one of the many distinctions: aaron’s left elbow joins the upper arm and the lower arm at a slightly protruding angle because of childhood injury. it is visible, though not immediately so, but it doesn’t affect his performance on the court.