The 3am Text Confessions Meme

[pantheraliam]

There’s Something I Need You to Know
Please don’t cancel me

Everyone has their secrets. Some are bigger than others, but it may be any number of things that are weighing down on your conscience. One night, whether it induced by lack of sleep, alcohol consumption, or some supernatural force, you decide to come out with it once and for all. It’s time to confess.

Directions:
1. Post a TL with your character name and canon in the subject line. You can either leave your TL blank for others to come confess, or you can put a confession in your top level. Your character’s confession can be anything from “I killed someone” to “I’m in love with my best friend” to “I’ve never eaten chocolate and vanilla swirl ice cream”. Any and all confessions are welcome - in fact, feel free to put a few different ones in your TL if you want people to pick and choose!
2. Respond to other people’s TLs with either your character’s own confession, or with a response to their’s.
3. Be respectful, follow basic dwrp meme rules, etc.!

Open to all fandom characters, OCs, AUs, CRAUs, etc.. Tagging around is highly encouraged!

Comments

[versigny]

How did he react?

[cadereagratia]

[“He died,” Whelk feels like saying. Because he’s drunk, and he’s already given away more than he ever intended to, and most of all, because it is quite difficult to hold in a secret of this nature for as long as he has. There’s not a single soul in the world other than he who knows what really happened to Noah Czerny. That shouldn’t change now. He should end the conversation, say it’s none of her business despite him initiating it, and try to go to bed.

[But he doesn’t. As all-too-familiar whispers fill his ears and his pulse quickens, as the edges of his consciousness become fuzzy and far away, as images of Czerny’s legs pedaling in the grass beside the red Mustang fill his mind, he continues typing. The phone in his hand feels like the only anchor he has to the present.]

He was shocked. Frightened.

Sad, I think. I’m not sure.

[Pathetic, he tries to think. He tries, and tries, and tries, but instead the word transforms into deceived over and over and over again.]

[versigny]

[ she has no way of knowing, exactly, when his answer is understandably vague, but there are things she can pick up on: the fact that he speaks in past tense, for one. and the uncertainty that comes with no soft conclusion. ]

I'm sorry.

[ because what else can she say? ]

How long ago was this?

[cadereagratia]

Seven years.

Long past. It shouldn’t matter anymore.

[Shouldn’t. And yet.]

[versigny]

I think you might find that grief has a different definition when it comes to what should be long past.

How do you cope?

[cadereagratia]

[Her use of the word “grief” does not sit well with Whelk. Apropos to her next message, his method of coping involves pretending that he doesn’t grieve Czerny at all. Why should he? He’s the one who killed him. And it was necessary. And Czerny was a sheep. And Czerny was pathetic. And Czerny loved him and accepted him and followed him with blind loyalty until the very moment Whelk raised the skateboard above his head.

[Lord, he feels nauseous.]

Funny you should wonder about the traitor’s coping mechanisms.

I get by just fine.

[It’s funny how something can be just as much a truth and a lie all at the same time.]