Blakemadden​:

norahphobia​:

“Good, i’ve been looking for a fight.” Norah quips back quickly, out of breath. She knew that wasn’t quite what he meant, but she didn’t want to dwell on worrying him. Easier to crack a joke in return. She shuffles off her black winter coat, brushing off snow from her clothing. She’d been through hell to get there, and briefly considered moving out of Brooklyn once and for all. She had to cross the bridge almost every day lately. “I tried to take the subway,” she begins, settling down into the booth across from him. “And my connecting train just - didn’t fucking come.” The subway system was notoriously fickle, delays and cancellations were basically guaranteed, especially in this weather. “So I had to get a taxi, and the cabbie couldn’t drive for shit in traffic.” 

Pausing to take a sip of water from one of the glasses on the table, she sets it back down with a slow teasing smile. “Or maybe I just thought about standing you up. You may never know.” Truly, she felt bad keeping him waiting. But she wasn’t the type to apologize for worrying someone, it happened so often she hardly registered it anymore. “I love this place.” Norah commented, her voice suddenly softer, amber eyes finally taking a moment to really look at him.

-

Leo’s rigrid posture relaxed instantouesly at her quip. Noted by his crossed arms leaning on the table now. He even laughed. This was something impossible for him not to do around Norah. She intriguied him from the very first moment she opened her mouth. She was one of those people that made him feel cool by proxy. He listened to her tale of traveling between the bouroughs. A classic tale to his native New Yorker ears. And a complete valid reason to be late. It was the teacher in him that deemed punctuality important. But he was happy to see her either way. 

“Oh, really?” He responded to her teasing by blinking multiple times to feign a sense of shock. He head dipped back, eyeing the ceiling of the train car when she expressed her admiration for it. “Yeah, same, I use to work in one.” He said, turning his head back to look her again as he spoke. “Not this one though. This one was closed when I was doing that. No, this one, this one’s quite famous.” His arms uncrossed and a hand tapped the table as he spoke, his voice getting quieter as if the details were a secret. “You see, this one was in Home Alone 2: Lost In New York.” He nodded, sharing the stupid movie fact as if were impressive. He laughed though knowing the whole thing was ridiculous. And he should probably move on to something more important. “Okay now that I’ve already said one movie fact, how about we look at the menu?” 

I am human and I need to be loved Just like everybody else does

text; leo ⇄ danny

danny: You sound thrilled

danny: I'm honestly so sorry to all the women in ur life lol

danny: I mean yeah dude I would also leave u if I was her, wouldn't u?

danny: What's ur plan

leo: I'm thrilled just hearing for you just makes it sound too real

leo: well, at least I have some

leo: I've got to figure out what's going on between Blake, Serenity, and I

leo: then I'll tell the Mrs.

i be like “idc” and then stare at the wall for hours with alternative sad music playing in the background thinking about how i ruin every good thing that comes my way

renfarber​:

“I don’t know,” she said honestly. There was no why. There was no reason. She’d had nine years to think of it (and many nights therein during which she thought of nothing else), and a couple of therapists thrown in, and all she’d learned was that she’d been scared. Of love, of being loved, of failure, of success… she’d just been terrified and overwhelmed by of all of it. 

“We were so young, Leo. And everyone was telling us that we couldn’t possibly be as sure about each other as we said we were. But I was sure. Even looking back now, I don’t see myself as some stupid kid who didn’t know what love was. I knew what it was, because we had it. It was real, and that was scary. I’ve never seen love work out well for anyone, so I guess I just… fucked it up. I wish I hadn’t.”

She winced slightly at his last words, as though physically struck by them, and was quiet for a moment. “I didn’t… decide to hurt you, that was never what I wanted. I know that I did, though, and I haven’t forgiven myself, so I can’t expect you to forgive me either. But… even if you hate me, we need to try to get along, right?”

-

He was completely enthralled by hearing the story of them from her perspective. Again an insight he never expected to have. She spoke of their love like some tangible and strong element. He had felt the same way. He was so sure of their love because he had been raised without it. Nothing had ever felt so potent or as sweet as his first taste of love with Serenity. He tried. Leo actively tried to fall in love like that again. He looked for the little things that made up Ren in other people. Vihana was actually someone he hadn’t expected. She was beautiful, kind, and took care of him. It was easy and simple because he never really was himself. Even now, she had no idea who he was. 

He groaned with a roll of his eyes. It wasn’t directed towards her. It was energy that he needed to push out. The whole situation they were in now compared to where they were years or even months ago was nothing like he had ever fantasized. He didn’t have the right to be tired of the ride that dipped and derailed from his choices. But he was. There was never a break unless he had numbed himself with his vices. He brought his elbows up on the table, he held his hands together and proceeded to tap his forehead on them. “Serenity,” he said, his eyes closed as he rested on his hands. “I don’t hate you. I can’t ever hate you. I just hate what you did. But I can’t exactly talk now, can I?” He questioned, lifting his head up to look at her once again. “I didn’t exactly get into the situation I am in now by being a good guy.” He said with the glint of calmed chaos in his dark eyes. He didn’t where his mood was going. The alcohol made his veins sting and his attention jump around. Though the weight of his problems just kept trying to follow behind him. He grabbed his glass again to get rid of it. “I’ll play nice if you will.” He said swirling the remaining contents in his glass.

devieiras​:

Ines understood that therapy could be a scary process. In fact, many of her clients had been too intimidated to truly be vulnerable with her at first. It was a normal occurrence. But this? This behaviour had been anything but that. No amount of patience and gentle encouragement seemed to resonate with the man sat before her. Perhaps somebody less willing would have simply referred he and his wife to another psychologist. But the farther he seemed to act out, the more it only made Ines want to see things through. Joke’s on him. 

“Mm,” the woman acknowledged his statement with a hum, lips pursed and eyes staring into his with the same intensity he had given her, “Surely there is. You’re here, aren’t you? Realistically, there’s nobody forcing you to show up to these appointments.” She leant back in her seat, much like he had. “So, tell me Leo. Why is it that you continue to?” 

-

He stroked his beard as his mind was beginning to picture the drink he was surely going to have later tonight. Of course, it’d be a drink he’d have after telling his wife a little white lie about how this session went. That was until he heard her speak again. He thought his intensity would keep her from speaking again, but he did throw her a bone. And with the way their gaze had met again, he could tell that she was about to launch it right back at him. Especially with the way she mimicked his posture, he tried not to smirk. “Realistically,” he stole her term, “I do have someone forcing me to show up.” His face pulling up at the word as he said it condescendingly. He brought his hand down from his chin, and he looked over at the empty spot on the couch. The same spot his wife would occupy in their coupled sessions. A part of him wished she was there with him, her image was warm in his head, until it was overthrown by one of her openly complaining about him. Then his expression hardened as he looked back at Ines once again. “She is why I continue these stupid meetings. She believes your psycho babble is helping.” He said, sitting up and gesturing to his own temple as he mocked psychology as a whole.

“Happily ever after is a myth because people are not static. Our partners do not owe us a guarantee that they will never change.” You (S03E08)

#me

THE NOTEBOOK (2004) — directed by Nick Cassavetes

PULP FICTION (1994)