Coolest Girl Evr

BENJAMIN POINDEXTER now playing : Sue me - Audrey Hobert. Pt 1,— Pt 2

You cared for Dex, so so much. Really, you did. As you both sat on the couch and watched movies, as you cooked dinner together, as you spent everyday together.

Yet the gnawing feeling of needing to leave ached and pawed at you every day, he was nothing but good to you. To the point where you felt you didn’t deserve it, like you couldn’t reciprocate. But, at the same time you craved the validation he brought. The love, the undoubted devotion.

He knew about your avoidance, of course he did. He knew everything about you. From how you grew up and who your best friend was as a kid, to what you liked and didn’t like. While he wanted to give you the space you needed, he found himself pressing himself closer to you in anyway he could, the aching thought of being without you made every part of him scream out that you would leave him and that you’d never talk to him.

Anxious attachment and avoidant attachment were equally as toxic to each-other, it wasn’t meant to be toxic, all you wanted really was each other.

He could sense you were spiraling, you weren’t answering his texts as quickly even if you lived right next to each-other, wall to wall.

Dex : hey, you okay?

4:30

Dex : please just talk to me? I thought we could maybe try have a sit down to clear things up.

5:47

I don’t know what’s wrong with me :

Please just come over. :

It took at most ten minutes for him to read the message and come to your place, he didn’t knock, just gently let himself in, taking his shoes off at the door and walking quietly to your bedroom as you weren’t on the couch or in the kitchen.

He sat down on the bed and watched the lump of you burrowed deep under the fresh sheets and heavy, fluffy duvet. He gently pet what he assumed was your back. “Hey, honey. Are you not feeling too hot?” All he got in response was a “Mh-Mh.” And a head-shake.

He continues to gently stroke your back. “Do you want to talk about it?” Another head shake. “Do you…need to eat something?” When you shook your head again his hand slowed. “Can you maybe tell me what you need?” He asked carefully, like speaking to a hissing cat. “No, please just go away.” You said, even if you were the one who asked him to come, pushing him away, if only verbally, came on instinct.

He paid no mind to it. “Do you think maybe it’s a little warm to be hiding under the blankets? Why don’t we go sit in the living room with the air con, and we don’t have to talk we can just sit. Yea?” That got him a little nod from you. That nod was just as good to him as an enthusiastic yes. He gently helped ease you out of bed and you both went to the living room.

Sitting side my side on the couch his large, warm and slightly scarred hand gently stroked your head by your forehead, occasionally brushing some hair out of your face even if nothing had necessarily went into your eyes. “I just-…” you tried to start but cut yourself off with a huff. “I just have this urge to push you away. I do like you, so much but I…I’m half convinced that I don’t really like you because I don’t deserve you but I do like you.” You continued, he listened. Didn’t try to offer half assed solution or anything, he just sat there stroking your head and hearing you out.

“Does it scare you? To have someone care?” He asked carefully, trying to understand you better. “Yeah…it does. I think I’m broken.”

“Oh sweet girl….you’re not broken I promise, okay? You don’t have to be perfect to not be broken. We all have our faults and yours make you no less worthy of the things you want.” He kissed the side of your head gently and guided you to his chest. “You’re the only thing that makes me feel sane, the only good thing I have in this fucked I’m world, okay? I need you. I-…”

“What could you possibly need me for? You don’t even have a single flaw..” you murmured, to you and from your perspective, the man who was consoling you was as clean as a whistle. He never played loud music, his apartment was always clean, his trash was always out on time, his lights went out at 10PM.

“You don’t see it, do you? You’re my only moral pointing, I need you to keep me good. I need you because you’re the only safe thing I could ever return to. You guide me, in a dark sky you’re a bright star. Sometimes- all times, really, I feel like I’m underwater and like I’m drowning. But I don’t know if I’m swimming for the surface or to the bottom..I need you to tell me where to go. You don’t even have to say anything. Just be there. Please.”

this is still short and I’m not sure if I like it but okay ☹️ anyway ngh my husband is so fine in these new pics

BENJAMIN POINDEXTER now playing: An Eater - Matt Martians.

The days were so slow, it was impossible to know what day of the week it was for the average patient. The routine helped, only slightly.

Breakfast at 7:00,

Group therapy 8:30,

Lunch 12:00,

Individual therapy 4:00,

Dinner 6:00,

And lights out at 9:00 every day.

It was so repetitive not even a sane person could heal under such a firm schedule.

Medicine didn’t help either, they fed him pills every day, more than needed but he was labeled a public safety concern after the FBI and their investigation on him. Heavy sedation however, wasn’t what he needed to heal whatever broken part of him aches worse and worse every day.

He could feel his mind fraying over the thick, heavy and choking cloud of sedation over his mind, it gnawed and struggled lazily. The anomaly that was you broke it all.

It started when you came to give him his morning medication in those little plastic cups he realized you were new, a clean face that wasn’t smudged over. A pure, guiding face. A compass.

“Are you ready for your medication, Mr, Poindexter?” Giving the patients the illusion of choice made it easier to get them to take the nauseating pills. He looked up at you from where he sat on the thin mattress of the metal bed. “Yes.” A gruff, quiet whisper. The most anyone had heard from him in days.

The pills felt thick in his throat as he swallowed them under your careful gaze, the sip of water didn’t help much. It felt nauseating either way. “Shall we walk to the cafeteria together? It’s almost breakfast.” Your voice broke him out of his thoughts. He felt himself nod dumbly.

By the time he was seated in the cafeteria his eyes were drooping, his senses slowed with his reaction time, the tips of his fingers buzzed numbly. You had other patients to tend too, but he could already trace the gaping hole you left after only a singular conversation.

He had seen the frozen body of Julie by himself when he sat many times before, even when she wasn’t there. But, her face was slowly fading. No. What?

No one saw it coming, he completely began freaking out, he had never acted out like this, so completely out of character. Even as he stumbled up from his chair it fell to the floor, he pushed the food away from its spot in-front of him.

He didn’t remember much else, really. The jab in his upper thigh came quick, a heavy sedative and he was taken to solitary.

While he laid there, slowly calming down while his body was shivering and in a cold sweat, you opened the thick, heavy metal door. “Hey, Benjamin. Are we feeling a little better?” You spoke softly, like speaking to a stray dog you weren’t sure was going to bite.

He dragged his hands up his pale, slightly sweaty face. “Why am I like this?” He half- groaned, half whimpered. “I don’t- I can’t stay here, I’m getting worse, I can feel it. Please. Nurse please…” he sat up slightly and his thick hands enveloped your wrists.

On instinct you tried to pull away, patients like this could be dangerous. “Mr, Poindexter. This is what’s good for you, we’re only here to help you.” You could only try to explain carefully. “Please let go, hm?”

And he quickly did, his hands flexing out like he was desperate to show you he wasn’t aggressive. “I’ll be good- just please don’t make me be alone. Please. Okay? Shes disappearing from me.” “Who is, Benjamin.?” “Julie.”

You knew who she was because you knew who he was. You had been briefed about who he was that very morning. His BPD and ASPD, they made him oddly vulnerable here. “Benjamin…the medicine can make you see things, but she is dea-“ “I know! I know she is…I’m not crazy. I’m sick.” He looked up at you almost desperately. “Okay..okay, I believe you.” You nodded, rubbing his muscled, scarred back through the hospital scrubs.

He practically melted with relief at being believed. “Swear to me, swear to me you believe me.” He whispered. Now, you would never get rid of him. He would chase your guidance until death, you or his.

BENJAMIN POINDEXTER now playing : surrender - suicide Pt 1,— Pt 2

Benjamin never had friends.

Not growing up, not in his adult life. It was almost a subconscious choice as he had decided for himself that he wasn’t worthy of close relationships. When he had them, they were born out of necessity for guidance. A North Star to loyally follow as it would lead him to a good he couldn’t find in himself.

He was getting older, at least that’s what he thought of himself as he was all of forty-two. Settling down wasn’t his thing, yet he got himself a little apartment, a place to huddle up when he wasn’t out being Bullseye. He made enough money for a better place, but what would he do with only more empty space?

While he lived day by day, a shift slowly ached its way into his life. An ache in the form of you.

To you, in the apartment next to his, this was what felt like the best you were going to do. It was the biggest you could manage on your own in a relatively quiet neighborhood, which in the great nyc was a blessing in itself.

Working part time at a soul sucking restaurant, and the rest you spent studying and going to school. The money wasn’t exactly pouring out of your little ladybug wallet.

One day, after a long shift you bumped into him, Benjamin, but he insisted you call him dex. He was kind enough. “Hello.” His voice was rather gruff, but a polite smirk of a grin on his face no less.

“Hi, dex. Gosh I’ve never been this happy to see a door. It’s getting sad.” Replying to his greeting with an awkwardly joking manner, you reached down and got the keys from under your rather plain welcome mat. He chuckled lightly in return. “Yeah? Well you look rather worn out.”

“I wish someone would just do all my chores for me, make me dinner. Wouldn’t that be a dream, huh?” It was a passing comment really, but Dex could see himself blissfully doing that. “Yeah, I mean, hey, come over in thirty and I’ll have dinner for you, if you’d like?”

You could only throw your head back a little with an excited smile at the thought of not having to cook dinner or add more dishes to the growing pile in your sink. “Yes please! I’ll go freshen up, thank you thank you.” Your metaphorical tail was practically wagging off and you went to your respective apartments.

Dinner soon turned frequent, then dining out, then sleepovers, casual visits, a copy of eachothers keys.

Sure, you shared a drowsy kiss now and then, playing eye tag was a constant. But you weren’t dating, all though you liked him, really really really liked him. You refused to let him confess, when you felt it coming you avoided the subject like the plague.

One evening, he took you up with him to the talk rooftop of your apartment. You both settled on the ledge as you stared at the summer sun settling in an orange blanket on the New York City skyline. His hand was radiating warmth you could feel even when you weren’t touching.

“You know-“ “please, dex. I can’t- I can’t I’ll ruin it.” You cut him off before you could hear it. A selfish comfort. “Please just let me. There’s nothing to ruin if you would just let me—“ he tried again. Getting more frustrated, months of miss communication and being shut down left and right. “Please, baby, please.” He practically whimpered got your attention, even as you tried to move away he gently took your hands enveloping them in calloused, large warm hands.

“Please- you have to let me say this. And I know you’re scared and I know you think you’re bad but you’re all I have. And I need you and I love you and all I want is to show you that I love you. If this is about you wanting to let me down easy I’d rather you just do it now because I love you. And I have loved you and I will. From-…from the moment I open my eyes to the second I close them you consume me. It’s all you.” He whispered, words hurried and mumbled as he looked at you, searching the whole time.

“Dex, I-…I love you too but I’ll just mess it up. I ruin every relationship I’m in. I can’t ruin you too-“ he cut you off gently. “Baby, sweet, sweet girl, I kill people. I’m literally a wanted man. How could you possibly ruin me? Honey, I’ve seen you at your worst and I loved you as I love you now.” He reassured softly, cupping the back of your head and stroking the side of your face with his other hand.

“Hm?” He hummed softly as you sniffled, then softly brought you closer. “That’s it, youre okay…that’s it…shh.” He stroked your back. You weren’t crying, but your eyes burned and the back of your throat was painfully tight. “I don’t want you to leave me.” You whispered. god, if only you knew.

BENJAMIN POINDEXTER now playing: Earrings - Malcolm Todd

Benjamin Poindexter who! Is your neighbor, at first when he moved into the complex you didn’t talk. You only saw eachother in passing and gave at most a polite albeit awkward smile and nod.

Benjamin Poindexter who! Was surprised when you approached him first, knocking on his door asking if his internet was acting up too. To which he awkwardly said that he doesn’t use the internet, but you eventually figured it out together.

Benjamin Poindexter who! Began taking care to say hello when you passed eachother, hello turned to how are you? How are you turned to small talk, small talk turned into chatter.

Benjamin Poindexter who! Showed no interest until you took the first step and he finally let it spill he had interest for you.

Benjamin Poindexter who! Wasn’t above staging meeting in the grocery store you went to so you would have a reason to talk, asked what you were making for dinner to he could have the same. Feel what you feel.

Benjamin Poindexter who! Wants to understand you and your being on a fundamental level, but he’s so scared of scaring you. He knows he can be a lot.

Benjamin Poindexter who! Breaks into your apartment when you aren’t home, seeing as it’s right next to his and he knows where you leave your keys it wasn’t hard.

Benjamin Poindexter who! Doesn’t stay long the first time, so nervous to mess up his chances.

Whoa, long time since ive written something. I watched ddba a while back but since the season finale u decided to write something. I’ve had a tiny HUGE crush on Wilson Bethels Bullseye since Netflix!daredevil.

JOE GOLDBERG now playing: White Winter Hymnal- Fleet Foxes.

The table was full of wrapping paper, twine and pretty ribbons, tape bits and scissors. Sitting side by side you were wrapping presents together, a quiet type of Christmas music playing in the background. “Can I borrow your finger?” Joe asked with a quiet smile, you could only let him take your finger with his warm, large hand. Letting him use it to tie a pretty bow, only to press soft, chaste kisses to it after finishing.

JOE GOLDBERG now playing: The other woman- Jeff Buckley

cw: angst and cheating. (No happy ending)

Was it ever casual? When you worked together and saw his perfectly un-perfect blonde girlfriend, her pale skin and her likable personality you could never re-create. He’s still hold your naked body to his as you met at midnight and only then, whispering in secret. Joe swore he’d break up with her, all while you gripped to the illusion that he did love you. That the validation he gave you wasn’t just because he was unfulfilled in his own relationship, that you weren’t just a second opinion.

“Hi.” Was whispered between you as you passed in the storage room between boxes of books. A longing look sent from you, a regretful look sent in return. He’d kiss her in-front of you, leave you alone with each other and you had to bite your tongue and be nice to her. If she left because of you, he’d leave you chasing her. You knew it, the wire of words had warped against your ribs. You could dye your hair, change how you spoke and what you liked but it wouldn’t matter because you weren’t her. Beck, perfect beck. It wasn’t her fault, you couldn’t even blame her.

JOE GOLDBERG now playing: Televangelism- Ethel Cain

A short little angst bite for now!

West Virginia, 1986.

And though laid against the dirt he held your body, a hand to your neck. The blood coating his lip’s slowly drying, your blood. And in it he could taste life, soul. Something he had only longed for and long forgotten, for in his own heart he heard “I love you” being whispered to your very soul. The one of which he could see his darkness sinking itself into. Clawing and feigning for a place to rest itself.

(Also, yes using a photo from a scene where he was jorking it is a hidden meaning to him getting off on you struggling and being someone he feels he can save) 😓

The ache always lingers, it never really leaves. Guilt at your own grief gnawing at your bones, even as you lay in the same curled up position as you did the day before. With a duvet tugged up to your nose and head rested on plush pillows, Joe slowly pet your hair. He was by your curled up form on the bed, this whole episode, burn out, whatever you call it. He stayed, fed you when you couldn’t move, shushed your cries and spent whatever spare time cuddling you and letting you ground yourself with his presence.

3: 26 AM.

She was a light sleeper, Joe knew. So, he was carefully when he opened the stupidly loose window of her bedroom, I mean, wasn’t there regulation on this? Not even a lock. There she was, lying in her plush bed, with her duvet halfway on the floor as a result for her constantly moving around while she slept.

He did it for love, Joe told himself so. Killing your oddly co-dependent best friend and then trying to let you down gently, it really wasn’t his place. Yet he did, he held you close while you sobbed and screamed at him. Fed you medicines that calmed your racing brain, one’s that made days pass like a soft breeze in the summer. A moment of relief from the scolding heat. He even held you as you laid in the same spot for days, read you Joan Didion.

I’m so happy for him and his wife, they both seem like such genuine people!

Honestly I just type in “reaction pictures” and they come up 🤷‍♀️ but I <3 Pinterest memes, just wish there weren’t so many ads😒😒