feelingtwofootsmall
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in the Black Lodge, Cooper sees Annie die a thousand times. more than once he walks into the room just to find her body dead and silent on the floor, pulsing under sickening strobe lights. it seems the more he thinks about her, the more the visions appear, until even these things become a comfort. on second thought, Cooper isn't sure he knows the meaning of the word comfort anymore.
short loosely Dale/Annie loosely songfics related to Neutral Milk Hotel's "Two Headed Boy" and "Two Headed Boy Part 2"; taking place while Coop is in the Black Lodge in s02ep22, continuing post-series-- who knows how time works in the Lodge? not this author! POV switches between Annie in the hospital and Coop in the Lodge.
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"I don't want you to think I was... a Juliet, trying to kill myself over poor Romeo." Annie has folded herself into and behind other people and experiences for almost as long as she can remember, but for the first time in a long time, she has the urge to bring someone else into her hiding spot.
a personal conversation between Annie and Cooper taking place some time shortly after s02ep19. blanket trigger warnings apply for discussions/brief mentions of emotional abuse, self-harm, sexual assault, and a canonical suicide attempt. a different writer than I might refer to it as hurt/comfort, but I'm not going to tag it that way, so.
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Into The Past by feelingtwofootsmall
Fandoms: Great Gatsby - F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby (2013)
14 Jul 2013
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"Reading over what I have already written, I see that I have remarked previously on the fact that Gatsby, unlike most men of his social stature, was always moving. By this I don’t mean that he moved from place to place with regularity the way Tom and Daisy seemed to, but rather that some part of him always stayed in discreet, perpetual motion— two fingers rubbing together in circles, one foot tapping. A distracted licking of the lips."
Nick remembers the one time Gatsby stood completely, utterly still.
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Scott doesn’t need to learn how to write better; he needs to learn how to feel more. The Great American Novel isn’t written over weekly two page assignments; it’s the late night parties that cater to it.
Bookmarked by feelingtwofootsmall
15 May 2015