emprean

[emprean]

her lower lip is trapped between her teeth and circe keeps it that way. his every word makes more want to flow from her, whirling half-related things slipping loose from the current of everything else. circe does her best to ignore them and focus on him. wendell is right ; trying to explain is always a headache. it's complex enough for someone who can get the right word out the first time to make make sense, let along her. circe sighs as well and slumps a little.

"yes. well. no - i mean, i wasn't - have not. been. but i know." it is so far from an explanation that she surely would have been better served by saying nothing at all. damn it. "my apologies, sincerely. i never ... the last thing i ever wanted to do was upset someone. you."

Wendell's dark eyes stare at her, his entire body stilling as though he's gauging just how much of a threat she is (which is, in fact, exactly what he's doing). She does seem harmless, but the words that had previously been flowing out of her mouth like a river had not. His true name had been one of them, in fact.

"I'd appreciate if they didn't get away from you. At least not to anyone outside of the two of us." He scowls, still not knowing what to make of this seemingly meek girl with knowledge of so many secrets. "How do you know - wait, never mind. Surely it'll give us both headaches if you start to explain." He heaves a sigh, doing his best to seem a little friendlier. "You spoke of my home, which I can with the upmost confidence assume you've never been to. Few ever return."

[emprean]

Sense8 (2015–2018)

[emprean]

like this for a starter! please specify if you are a multi!

[emprean]

@dryadologist said ; i'd be very, very careful who you talk to about that. ( accepting )

her mouth clicks closed and circe curses internally. shit. it isn't an infrequent occurrence, words slipping from her lips without her go-ahead, spouting off things she has no reason to know. fingers scrub nervously through her hair at the scalp and slip to the ends, tugging slightly as circe offers a nervous semblance of something almost like a smile. "right." her hands fall to her lap and she fiddles with them there, the thumb of one hand rubbing the palm of the other methodically. it helps ground her a little. "sorry, i don't - what did i - things got, get away from me, sometime. s. sometimes."

[emprean]

Margaret Qualley in Drive-Away Dolls (2024) dir. Ethan Coen

[emprean]

text message prompts

[text] You okay?

[text] GO TO BED!

[text] hey you better be alive in there

[text] SOS save me please holy shit

[text] call me this date is going so bad

[text] I have way too much shit to do.

[text] Honestly I'm really worried about you.

[text] Why are you trending on Twitter?

[text] Please let me come over and pet your (pet).

[text] We are in the same building, you could come talk to me.

[text] It's not going to work out.

[text] This is a terrible idea.

[text] people have fetishes

[text] They really do crucify anyone these days huh

[text] I don't know why but that really means me want to stab you

[text] That movie was awful.

[text] For the love of god please help me

[text] I fucked up. I fucked up really bad.

[text] I'm blocking you.

[text] YOU ONE BRAINCELLED BITCH

[text] I regret swiping right.

[text] Everyone lies on their dating profiles.

[text] That absolutely can't be an actual picture of you.

[text] This forced open my third eye and I saw the devil

[text] I'm like a child in line for the newest fucked up disney ride

-

[text] That's just all fucking sorts of fucked up

[text] Why are we here? To suffer? Every other day I get messages that cause pain

[text] In the department of old man fucking, we've got you beat.

[text] have you gotten any work done?

[text] I am beyond shame, try again

[text] You left your left your underwear at my place.

[text] Don't you dare put this on Facebook.

[text] My brother in Christ you're being haunted

[text] I want to wring you like a wet towel and slap you against a wall

[text] The mind is weak but the body is funky

[text] I'm a zombie the law can't stop me.

[text] Jealous of my massive honkers

[text] We left you to die to play minecraft

[text] She would never ever take away one of these stupid fucking hats

[text] I puked all over the Uber driver's backseat.

[text] I just took a screenshot of that and posted it to Reddit

[text] You said you'd be right back and it's been months.

[text] Can't we talk about this face to face?

[text] Yeah, you'll come learn I just have a thing for milk

[text] Why did you like one of my pics from 2014?

[text] Now's as good a time as any to exchange nudes.

[text] Why would you send me an eggplant emoji?

[text] I write five paragraphs, pouring my heart out, and all you reply with is k?!

[text] Who would dare to lie on the internet?

[text] When I die, please delete all my shit off the internet

[text] He's so hot, I briefly started texting like a straight person

[text] And because I'm god and I've decided that; no, in fact, I'm not done.

-

[text] I know you love bloopy reggae jams, now is not the time.

[text] You better not be standing catatonic in your room again.

[text] God has abandoned his children but unfortunately for you I pay child support and I will smite thee.

[text]: My neighbor just told me he can fix my water heater for 50 bucks. I’m skeptical.

[text]: Do you have any idea how much it costs to buy apples? I paid 10 dollars for 6.

[text]: I mean, I wouldn’t say I have a problem with buying Squishmallows..

[text]: Hey, so you know how you told me no dog? *sends pic* I don’t do well with no’s.

[text] Stuart Little is a bitch and Remy could take him any day.

[text]: My roommate just said that Lola Bunny is hot. I’m moving out.

[text]: Hey I posted that vid of you drunk, singing Ariana Grande, wearing all black and people said not to do it again. Sorry.

[text]: Do you think the price is ever right? Like, I feel like it’s not.

[text]: I booped your nose. Boop the last five people you texted or–nothing happens really.

[text]: I’m actually in the ER and it’s a long story that involves Best Day Ever from spongebob.

[text]: I fucking hate you–wait you’re not my ex. Who are you?

[text]: You ever ask yourself if birds see a bee and just go ‘wow a bee’? im high.

[text]: sometimes all i think about is–sour patch kids. bet you thought it was you.

[text]: I love you��not as much as I love my dog. But still a lot!

[text]: I found a cat on the way home and now it’s mine. But it hates my guts so this should be fun.

[text]: I have questions about the marvel cinematic universe…how long do you have?

[text]: why do donald duck and winnie the pooh not have to wear pants but other people do?

[text]: Hey you know that show floor is lava? I may have turned the apartment into that..this isn’t a joke, btw. the floor is sticky.

[text]: I bought too much soap off etsy and now I don’t know what to do with it…I smell like Captain America.

[text]: On a scale of one to ten, how many drinks would you need to sleep with me? This isn’t a tiktok trend…or it is.

[emprean]

"thanks." easier that way, truly. circe gives a weak little smile as she wishes she could retract the fumbled words of moments ago, something about how fast feet will run down this hall years from now. nonsense to anyone else. "sorry, i will - was - am just ... mixed up today."

❛❛  i'm not going to ask about that.  ❜❜

@emprean, random starter.

[emprean]

circe is. very lonely. she interacts with people all the time, in the way most people do - she says thank you when interacting with service workers, and will engage in idle conversation with the person seated beside her on long amtrack rides, but she has very few lasting relationships. the person she speaks to most often is her dad, who comes the closest to understanding her and who loves her, but other than him circe knows she is little more than a passing acquaintance to most everyone. it can make her feel a bit invisible.

[emprean]

i ache in a language so old that even the earth no longer remembers : so dead, that is has returned to dust.

circe croft ; independent original character by bee.

[emprean]

pov you run into circe at the ice machine in the hotel hallway and she stares at you, mumbles something about how wonderful you're going to look at your wedding ( you are not married or even engaged ) and then stumbles down the hallway

[emprean]

₍ 🎞 ₎   fight club  (1999)  rp  starters  ! featuring violence, explicit language, unhealthy relationships & mature topics . some lines have been slightly adjusted for rp purposes .

how much can you know about yourself if you've never been in a fight?

you met me at a very strange time in my life.

i found freedom. losing all hope was freedom.

i want you to hit me as hard as you can.

the things you own end up owning you.

yes, these are bruises from fighting. yes, i'm comfortable with that.

it's only after we've lost everything that we're free to do anything.

if i don't say anything, people always assume the worst.

this isn't love, it's sport fucking.

i know everything you do, so if you know then i know.

i no longer have any fear of death. but i am in a pretty lonely place.

i wouldn't feel good about my life, is that what you want to hear me say? fine. 

this is your life and it's ending one minute at a time.

i see all this potential, and i see squandering.

listen to me, i'm giving you a direct order. 

you have very serious emotional problems.

you're sorry, i'm sorry, everybody's sorry, but... i can't do this anymore.

it will hurt more than you've ever been burned before. you will have a scar.

i'm grateful to you. but this is too much. i don't want this.

you're the worst thing that's ever happened to me.

this is probably one of those cry-for-help things.

you're not getting this back. i consider it asshole tax.

fuck what you know. you need to forget about what you know.

is your life so empty that you can't think of a better way to spend these moments?

start a fight. prove you're alive.

you are too fucking... blonde!

you have a kind of sick desperation in your laugh.

all the ways you wish you could be, that's me.

i am free in all the ways that you are not.

i'll bring us through this. like always.

this is your pain. it's right here. look at it.

you are not special. you are not a beautiful or unique snowflake.

i'll carry you, kicking and screaming, and in the end you'll thank me.

you can swallow a pint of blood before you get sick.

you're not your job. you're not how much money you have 

we are all part of the same compost heap.

you're never really asleep... and you're never really awake.

when people think you're dying, they really, really listen to you

what do you want me to do? you just want me to hit you?

i don't wanna die without any scars. hit me before i lose my nerve.

on a long enough timeline, the survival rate for everyone drops to zero.

every evening i died, and every evening i was born again, resurrected.

nobody takes this more seriously than me. 

i didn't create some loser alter-ego to make myself feel better.

why would anyone possibly confuse you with me?

without pain, without sacrifice, we would have nothing.

three pitchers of beer, and you still can't ask.

you wanna make an omelet, you gotta break some eggs.

you have to consider the possibility that god does not like you.

i'd be very, very careful who you talk to about that.

i felt like destroying something beautiful.

everything's far away. everything's a copy of a copy of a copy.

[emprean]

One Sings, the Other Doesn’t (1977)

[emprean]

circe is very quiet. she has a low, slightly gravely voice that is often closer to a whisper than anything else. this in combination with her tendency to mix up tenses, repeat phrases or words and mumble, it's not unusual for people to have to ask circe to repeat herself once or twice before they really hear her.

[emprean]

PROMPTS FOR ORDINARY THINGS THAT FEEL INTIMATE *  inspired by this post. these don't have to be romantic - you can specify romantic or not when you send them. in essence, these are simply intimate, affectionate moments to share with someone you love and care about. adjust as necessary, send 'reverse' for the reversal of the prompt

[ lean ] sender rests their head on receiver's shoulder

[ shop ] sender and receiver go to the grocery store together

[ brush ] sender brushes receiver's hair

[ tie ] sender helps receiver with their tie, either by putting it on or adjusting it

[ necklace ] sender helps receiver with the clasp of their necklace from behind

[ zip up ] sender assists receiver with zipping up a piece of clothing

[ unzip ] sender assists receiver with unzipping a piece of clothing

[ shoelaces ] sender bends down to tie receiver's shoelaces

[ swipe ] sender notices a smudge of something on receiver's face and gently wipes it off

[ braid ] sender braids receiver's hair

[ jacket ] sender takes their jacket off and hangs it on receiver's shoulders

[ puddle ] sender hurries to stop receiver from stepping into a puddle

[ drinks ] sender brings receiver a drink from a bar/their kitchen

[ feed ] sender feeds receiver's pet/s for them

[ cook ] sender and receiver cook a meal together

[ feed ] sender allows receiver to try a bite of their dish, holding their fork out for receiver to taste

[ teach ] sender, an expert at something, takes time to teach receiver how it works and how they can get better at it, too

[ readjust ] sender comes up behind receiver and readjusts their stance (maybe holding a gun, holding a golf club, aiming for something, etc.) to help them

[ makeup ] sender fixes receiver's makeup for them

[ bathroom ] sender and receiver go to a public restroom together and have a normal conversation in between the stalls

[ aloud ] sender reads aloud to receiver

[ refill ] sender refills receiver's glass without asking

[ massage ] sender notices receiver looks tense, steps up behind them, and massages their shoulders

[ listen ] sender listens to receiver explain something they're passionate about

[ silence ] sender and receiver comfortably exist in silence together, both of them working or reading or focusing on something different

[ food ] sender brings food over to receiver's house

[ hum ] sender hums along to a song receiver is singing

[ see ] sender sees something that reminds them of receiver and texts them a picture of it

[ admire ] sender stares at receiver across a room, silently admiring and appreciating them from afar

[ win ] sender lets receiver beat them in a game

[ puzzle ] sender helps receiver solve/put together a puzzle

[ carry ] after receiver falls asleep in an inconvenient place, sender carries them to a bed and tucks them in

[ kneel ] sender finds receiver sick in the bathroom ("tossing their cookies"), and kneels beside them, holding their hair back and cleaning their face

[ clean ] sender helps bathe receiver

[ wash ] sender helps receiver wash their hair

[ patch ] sender carefully patches one of receiver's wounds

[emprean]

circe doesn't turn all the way but her eyes follow him as he moves, drifting along until she has to turn her head to keep nico in her line of sight. his words tangle in her head a little and she only catches the back half of his sentence. it takes a moment to fish what he said out of the current of squeaking wheels and last words. hospitals suck. loud places, snarling things together into a mess of sounds and sights. harder to sort through things where people frequently are, and terribly sad things frequently happen. happy ones, too, of course, but those tend to be harder to number among the crowd.

"yes," circe answers the first question. of course she knows why. he doesn't know that yet. fingers card through her messy curls and then tug slightly as she reaches the ends, fiddling and twirling. things are easier when she moves in little ways. it's grounding, reminds her where she is, that she is living in a body here in this time and place. people think it makes her look nervous fairly often, but she isn't. at least - - - she isn't right now. the second question is harder. "mm." she hums noncommittally and needs another moment to put that together. what she thinks is hard, what she believes. sometimes circe isn't sure she's able to put those two things into action. there isn't belief. there's just knowing.

hands fall to her lap and circe straightens her legs out and shifts to face nico more head-on. "things just happen." she says, and then stops for a moment, her nose wrinkling. "i wasn't a hero. just - - - will be, was. was there. right place, right time, right?" nico knows better than that. it isn't the first time circe croft has been in the right place at the right time. far from it - - - she has been in the right place at the right time at least twice a month every month since she was seventeen. usually in the states, but not always, and in a path someone could trace across the lines of greyhound bus routes and passenger train tracks. "i won't stop doing it."

            hades doesn't tell him much when he sends nico out on these... side quests.  nico prefers it this way.  no prophecy,  no rules.  just a problem and a request to figure out a solution.  the rest remains in his own hands,  a million choices and paths,  deceptive  —  the fates have already written it out.  he doesn't want to know the ending.  nearly a century of life,  and all prophecy and augury have done for him is fucked him over.  

          unsurprisingly,  the stench of death extends a mile out from the hospital and only becomes more prominent as nico ventures in,  stella's handle gripped in his right hand.  he navigates the place like he knows it,  an invisible line pulling the elevator to the third floor,  then leading him down winding hallways until he reaches one mostly empty.  the lights are dimmed, flickering every so often,  and stella sits in front of him like a brick wall once he stops.  

          circe doesn't seem surprised by his approach,  or even his mere existence.  nico frowns.  somehow,  things have become equally more complicated and much easier.  he tilts his head in acknowledgement,  strands of black hair falling in front of his face.     "     do you know why,  then  ?     "     he tugs lightly on stella's handle,  then they approach a empty chair to the left of circe,  leaving an empty one in the middle.  it's not an interrogation,  he has to remind himself.  a chat,  a conversation.  he only intends to learn more about what's happening.  he sinks into the chair despite how uncomfortable the hard plastic is,  as if it's made to dissuade use.     "     some people would think you're a hero for what you did for mrs. clark,  maybe even comment on how lucky she was that you were there.  you believe in luck  ?  coinicidences  ?     "

[emprean]

@legbite said ; a grocery store past midnight, the only other people in the store are the workers ( accepting )

it's one of hundreds sleepless nights. circe's basket is heavy, weighed down with all manner of odds and ends to cart back to her hotel room. instant noodles. a carton of orange juice. granola bars - peanut free, because the person the room over is allergic and circe is going to offer them one when they both exit at the same time tomorrow - and cereal. her eyes are shadowed and sluggish as she drags her gaze across the row of colorful cardboard boxes and ignores the sound of footsteps on the land beneath the linoleum floors and the argument two aisles over that is going to sever a relationship in four months, two days, and six hours. god, her head hurts. there's ibuprofen that won't even touch the headache in the basket, too.

the basket that is slipping from her too-loose grip. shit. said bottle of ibuprofen rolls noisily until it collides with the shoe of austin moore. circe looks forlornly at the toppled grocery basket, then the scattered boxes and bottles, and then her company. "sorry," she sighs, crouching to right the plastic basket and put the closest few items in there, "i'm fine. just - - - well. tired. who won't - wasn't - isn't, at this time, right?" it's a weak attempt at a joke and circe grimace-smiles at him as she drops one of the many boxes of granola bars back into the basket.

[emprean]

Margaret Qualley by Wesley Stringer