#a tale told by an idiot full of sound and fury signifying nothing

[myowndesertplaces]

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow...

[deadmegumi]

There are toji fushiguro cathedrals everywhere for those with eyes to see. Babydoll cathedrals, even

[mappingthemoon]

I really go out of my way to avoid hearing [that man]* speak, but after being forced to overhear bits and pieces of the debate (I spent most of the time in the kitchen, making a pizza and basking in the white-noise bliss of the range hood, but occasionally a phrase would waft its way into my earspace, YUCK), I realized that a good chunk of my visceral disgust is because I can’t help but listen with my “transcription hat” on, and this dipshit speaks like a classic nightmare client: the hypnotically monotonous rapid cadence, the meandering run-on sentences, the utter failure to actually answer the question or even stay within a five-mile radius of the topic. It really triggers my transcription muscle memory! I can FEEL the way my foot would be tapping the pedal to rewind and catch up, rewind and catch up; how I would be tensed up over my desk, cursing under my breath as I so often did while typing lines of corporate bullshit: you piece of shit motherfucker goddammit fuck you asshole idiot shut up shut up shut upppppp. Honestly I think we could’ve avoided a lot of dumbassery if The Media had decided from the beginning to just print verbatim the long, inane bricks of text extruded from his stupid face instead of cherrypicking a sentence fragment here and there to make him sound like a human being capable of complex thought instead of the hateful free-roaming id that he is.

*ftr fucking sick of the cute insulting nicknames for this fascist dbag but also fucking sick of him living rent-free in seemingly everyone’s mind and getting free publicity at all times forever thriving on all attention especially the negative, but i still err on the side of "if naming the thing gives it power then i will refuse!" arrrrgghh

[i-am-become-a-name]

ohohohohoho early gallifrey audios. queen, beloved queen, bastard and other bastard times. also k9.

[ultralightpoe]

Slim Pickens - Tyler Owens

Authors Note: Not me writing this smut on election day..... anyways enjoy! Cause I have no clue what happened to me.

Word Count: 5080

Warnings: SMUT, stranger tryna get laid and Tyler not having it.

Requests: OPEN

Main Masterlist ~ ~ Halloween 2024 Event

[Thank you for the gif @chrishemsworthsbitch ]

Enjoy!

“Guess I'll end this life alone

I am not dramatic

These are just the thoughts that pass right through me”

-

There was a simple saying that been passed down from generation to generation, and you knew it all too well. 

‘No use crying over spilt milk’. 

Your grandma used to say it whenever you had boy problems back in middle school and your mother took up the saying when you went on to middle school and in both of these stages in your life you hadn’t quite understood what they meant. 

Now, sitting cross legged on Tyler Owens hotel floor as he repeated those very words to you, you knew them all too well. And by the look of his smug smile in your direction as he got ready for the day you knew he knew his words struck a nerve. 

“Now don’t get cranky at me, sweetheart.” He warns, pointing at you as he kicks his boots closer to the bed so he can sit on the end of it to put them on. “I warned you he wouldn’t be worth it last night when you left.”

The ‘he’ in mention was some guy named Jake that you had matched with on Tinder last night, and who you had dumbly agreed to meet up with. It had been a long week of storm chasing and dealing with Tylers crappy music in the truck and you just wanted to relieve some pressure. 

“He quoted shakespeare.” You try to defend only for him to laugh at you. 

“You sleep with every guy that quotes shakespeare?”

“Guys who quote Shakespeare are hotter than guys who haven’t touched a book in their life!” You snap back. “And-”

“It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.” He interrupts, shoving his feet into the boots with a small look in your direction. But you were too focused on staring at the floor from exhaustion. 

“Mkay Yoda.” You sigh and his hands fly up in the air from lack of belief. 

“Seriously?”

“And I mean he was hot.” You continue, falling back to lay on the floor and stare at the ceiling as he finishes with the boots and moves to get his bag together. “Honestly he kind of reminded me of you. But then he had to talk. And he just kept ruining it.”

“How so?”

“He was all ‘You ever seen a jet, Sugar’? And can’t forget ‘There is almost nothing better than the high feeling of flying through the air….almost.’ And it was-” You finish off the sentence with a loud groan as you slap your forehead making him laugh. 

“Did he not know what you do for a living?”

“Oh, you mean chase storms and kill them? No. Why would he? That would involve him asking me a question.” You seethe before Tyler comes into view, standing over you with that smug smile you hated and loved so much. 

“Alright, come on Sugar. It’s time to go.”

“Tyler, I’m gonna die alone.” You groan, closing your eyes before covering your face. He is having none of it though, reaching down to grab at your forearms, hauling you up with an ease that makes your skin flush. His hands are warm on your skin and the way his thumbs circle your flesh has images of your nasty daydreams flashing through your mind. 

“Enough of that mopin’. We got storms to chase and I ain’t got time to tell you that you’re never gonna die alone.” 

“Cause you don’t believe it?”

“No, cause the chances of us dyin’ in a tornado together are far more likely.” He laughs, deep and throaty as he leans down to scoop you up by the waist, taking a second to slap at your back thigh before exiting the hotel. “Cate will also kill us if we’re late again.”

-

“All the douchebags in my phone

Play 'em like a slot machine

If they're winnin', I'm just losin'”

-

“Not to be that guy…” Tyler starts, his voice already filled with annoyance. “But is now the time to be checking your phone?”

His hands were tight on the wheel as the truck raced through the fields, efficiently tracking down the storm that had caught Cate’s eye. And while you normally took the passenger seat next to Tyler after fighting with Boone for it so that Cate could take her own ford with Javi, today she had taken the seat and you were in the back with Boone who was just as upset by losing his special spot next to Tyler. 

It had been a rough day, between realizing one of the cars were completely broken down in the hotel parking lot and Boone nearly breaking his pinkie while trying to fix it. Let’s just say the hood of the truck came down a little too fast. Not only that but you had gotten stuck in the bathroom of your room until Tyler had to come save you in your towel, treating you like you were plague victim number one ever since. 

But the best part of the day so far? The introduction to Scott loservains new team, conning poor victims one at a time. 

“Hey man, I’m tracking our filming.” Boone argues, already offended.

“I’m making sure Javi has the same stats as us.” Cate argues. 

“Not talking to either of you. I’m talking to little miss lovestruck in the back.” 

“Hey!” You snap, immediately closing your phone. “Mind your business Tyler.”

“You’re in my truck. My truck is my business and everyone in the truck is my business.” He snaps back, shrugging his shoulders. “And besides, the more you let those fools win the more you lose.”

“How do you even know I was texting a guy?” 

“Because Sugar, I know you.” He snaps, casting you a quick look from his spot at the wheel before turning back to the road. 

“I think if you focused less on me then you would be able to drive better.” 

“I think if you focused less on the boys in your phone you wouldn’t be bitchin’ and moanin’ at me all the time!” He snaps back making you gasp as Cate and Boone switch their attention back and forth between you both. 

“Should we be worried?” Cate blurts, landing her gaze on you with her eyebrows pinched together in worry. 

“Not unless Tyler can’t learn to mind his own damn business!” 

“I’ll mind my business when you stop makin’ it my business!” 

“FINE!”

“FINE!”

-

“A boy who's jacked and kind

Can't find his ass to save my life”

-

The bar that sat 3 blocks away from the current hotel the team was staying at could only be described as a dingy cowboy bar, and considering you were mad at a certain cowboy this was the perfect place.  Surrounded by dozens of cowboy hats, none of them belonging to ‘Mr. Can’t Mind His Own Business’. 

He currently stood at the other end of the bar, closer to the live band as the dance floor began to fill with line dancers. Even that far away he was still being a pain in your ass with the way he glared across the floor every time you looked over. 

“You two don’t fight a lot. This is weird for you.” Cate chuckles, spinning her bottle of beer on the counter sat in front of you both, hearing the glass ring on the wood of the counter. “It sends the entire vibe of the group off.”

“It’s his fault.” You huff, scratching at the label of your own bottle as you avoided looking in his direction again. “I honestly don’t know where his freakout came from.”

“You don’t?” 

“No!” You huff, slapping your hands on the counter. “We were fine yesterday, I told him about that date with the aviator-”

“Oh that Jake guy. He was kind of cute.”

“Thank you. Anyways-” You take a quick inhale of air before looking at her. “We were fine and then today he was fine when he came to help me out of the bathroom but the second the door to the bathroom opened he got pissy.”

“Do you know why?”

“No, I assumed he had been getting hounded by everyone all day. He must have been stressed.” 

“Hmm.” She hums out, taking a look around the bar as you sit and mope. “I’m sure you both will get over it soon enough.”

“Slim chance. I am gonna ignore him forever now.”  It’s obviously just you being over dramatic but you were angry and embarrassed that he would call you out like that in front of the group. “Besides, if he didn’t want me talking to him about all that boy stuff he should have just told me. I don't know where his boundaries lie unless he sets them.”

“Damn, that’s deep.” She nods before tilting her head. “They should have put you on the shirt.”

“That’s what I said.” 

“And yet they-”

“Excuse me for interrupting ladies…” A new voice joins the group, making you both turn to the figure. A tall man with bruises along his jaw and a scratch right above his eyebrow. A black cowboy hat paired with a black shirt.  A fine specimen if you could say so. “I just saw the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life and I had to come say hello.”

“Well would you be pickin’ here?” Cate smiles. 

“There is no wrong answer.” You hum out, tilting your head like a cat assessing prey. 

“Then can I say both?” 

“Oh, look at that. Even with a map leading to the answer he still managed to mess it up.” You snipe, giving Cate a knowing look as you both grab at your bottles of beer and move to make your exit. 

“Wait wait.” He reaches a hand in front of you to try and stop you from passing. “Not a great start. I know that. So let me just start over, yeah?”

“Oh… I didn’t realize I did do overs.” 

“Then what can I do to be granted one?”

“Is there a problem here?” Leave it to Tyler Owens to enter this scene, giving his best glare as he inserts himself between you both with his back to you so he can glare down the cowboy.

“There is no problem here.” The cowboy smirks, and you are shocked to see just how brave he was. Then it clicks, the bruises and the hat. This was a bull rider. “You got a problem, bud?”

“Oh yeah I have-”

“LET’S DANCE!” You interrupt, sending a glare to Tyler before pulling the bullrider to the floor as Tyler rolls his eyes. 

Before you can make it too far his hand reaches out to grab your elbow with a knowing look, and even when he is mad he still holds your arm with a gentle ease and traces the skin with his thumb. “This isn’t a good idea.” 

“Well that’s interesting…. Cause it’s MY business!” You scoff, pushing his arm back and moving to the dance floor with the stranger. 

-

“Oh, it's slim pickings

If I can't have the one I love

I guess it's you that I'll be kissin'”

-

It was only fair, since there weren’t many options of men you would just lower your standards and have fun with this idiot for the night. 

He had two left feet, and was pressed against you the entire time but not in a hot way, more so a sweaty mess kinda way. And you would have abandoned him already but every time you looked for an escape you saw Tyler and his glare, there was too much at stake here. You could never admit Tyler was right. In YOUR business. 

So you ignored him and turned back to the stranger, just in time for this waste of space to press his lips to yours. It was awkward, the way your noses pressed together and how hard he smashed his lips to yours. There was no rhythm, no preparation or molding together. It was just his lips devouring your face as you tried to lean back. But the further you tried to get away the more he leaned with you. 

When he pulls back he keeps his hands on you with a sharp smile. “Wanna go back to your place?”

There wasn’t many options, and the one option you truly wanted would never happen let alone the fact that you were fighting with him so you would make do with what you had. “Sure, let’s go.”

-

“Just to get my fixings

Since the good ones are deceased or taken

I'll just keep on moanin' and bitchin'”

-

Telling Cate that you were heading out with him was easy, she made you promise to update her that you were okay, which was easy to do.  You managed to avoid any conversation about Tyler in his truck, which was hard because Mr. Bull Rider was dead set on asking about him. 

“What was that guy with white hats problem?” He asked, and you changed the conversation to the music he was playing. Then he tried the “You guys ever date or somethin’?” 

That one was harder to change since your throat got clogged up thinking of the answer. It’s not like you never wanted to date Tyler, in fact he was all you dreamed of. But it wasn’t meant to happen. Tyler wasn’t yours. 

So you simply started giving him directions to the motel like he hadn’t asked. And by the time you made it to the destination you had hoped that the conversation had passed as you unlocked the door. 

“This is it. Home sweet home….. For a little.” You smile, allowing him to look around while you take your shoes off. 

“So you live in a motel?” 

“When it’s tornado season, yes. We travel around but when he find a specific spot we try to stay.”

“You follow tornadoes?”

“Yes, and we chase them. And if there is destruction we try to help out the communities.” You explain, picking up the tornado shirt with Tylers face on it so you can show him then debate it at the last second you drop it down. “It’s fun.”

“I’ll bet.” He nods before allowing himself to sit on your bed. “We doing this?”

“Oh. Straight to the business.” You mumble, a little shocked as he begins unbuttoning the black top. 

“Sorry, did you want to talk or something?” 

“Well no- I just-” You couldn’t tell if you were thankful that the door opened in that second or absolutely furious as Tyler appeared with that fake innocent smile. 

“Hey Sugar,” He starts, letting himself in fully and shutting the door. “I just wanted to come make sure that bathroom door was all taken care of for ya’.” 

“Tyler, is now the time?”

“Oh, please. It’ll only take a minute.” He chuckles, walking past you both to get to the door. “Wouldn’t want you getting stuck in there again.”

“Tyler, what on eart-”

“Hey man, we were kinda in the middle of something here.” Stranger boy snaps out, scooting so he was right on the edge of the bed, his face pinched between confusion and anger. 

“Hey, safety first.” Tyler laughs, the sound fake and bitter as he leans down to check the hinges of the door while you just blink in shock. “Ah I see the problem here.”

“Tyler.” You hiss. 

“Just give me a moment.” He murmurs, working on the hinge of the door while you glare. “Just a minute……”

“Dude.” Stranger boy sighs and you are wound between shock, anger and embarrassment. 

“I can’t believe this is happening,.”

“There she is. Good as new.” Tyler smiles, standing to swing the door. “Look at that. Bet you’re glad I did it.”

“Tyler. Out.” You snap, moving forward to grab parts of his shirt to drag him out the door and slam it on him. “Now where were we?”

But it’s no use, since the door reopens with Tyler giving yet another innocent look. “Oh, sorry to interrupt. I forgot my screwdriver here.” 

“Tyler, grab it and then leave. And leave the key.” The fact that you were even in this moment was so bizarre. 

“Actually, I think I’m gonna get going… but let me write my information for when you get rid of dumbass barbie over here.” Stranger cowboy mutter, grabbing the pad of paper from the desk and writing his stuff down before moving forward to attempt to kiss you but Tyler is there, patting him on the back aggressively with a slight shove. 

“Sorry to see you go bud.” He smiles, a tense and angry smile before throwing an arm around your shoulder. “But we’ll be fine here.”

And you watch the bullrider leave, the door shutting before you whirl on him. 

-

“Jesus, what's a girl to do?

This boy doesn't even know

The difference between "there," "their" and "they are".”

-

“I can murder you.” You seethe, shoving his arm off of you and taking a couple steps away from him. “Matter of fact, what’s stopping me from doing so?”

“I just figured you might want help with the door-”

“Enough with the bullshit Tyler Owens!” You yell, whirling on him with your hands on your hips and a heavy glare. “What on earth were you thinking? After your fit today and that scene I’m starting to think you have lost your damn mind!”

“Hang on now-”

“And what on earth-” You take a moment to snatch up the pillow from the motel bed to swing it at him. “WOULD MAKE YOU INTERUPT-”

“HE WAS TERRIBLE!”

“IT DOESN’T MATTER!” You yell. “Look around for a second Owens! There aren’t many options. The ones that are worth it are already taken, the one that I want would never go for me. I don’t have many options!”

“AND WHEN AM I GONNA BE AN OPTION?!” He yells out, grabbing your wrists before you can hit him with the pillow again. “When do I get the chance to prove myself?”

“Oh stop.” You snap, moving to walk away. “Don’t mess with me about this.”

“Why would I be messing with you? Is it so hard to believe that I want you?” He follows, making sure to keep a hand on you. “Time and time again you rant to me about these men, how they suck and you hate them. And I keep waiting for you to notice me, to give me a chance. Cate tells me that you might just be nervous, or that our time will come but Sugar I don’t think I can survive this much longer.”

“What do you mean?” Your tone is gentle and you’ve given up walking away, choosing to turn to him and allow him a chance to talk. Your heart was thumping through your chest and you were struggling to catch your breath. 

“Sweetheart, from the moment I met you I’ve been stuck. Comin’ in with all that attitude like you owned the world, which if you ask me you do, and you didn’t hesitate to put me in my place.” He continues, moving closer to set his hands on your hips. “And I just kept begging the winds to give me a chance. To give me a single shot with you.”

“Then why wouldn’t you say anything?”

“Why would you give me a chance?” He laughs, pulling you in. “But I need one now. I’m begging you for a chance here.”

And though no words are spoken you both know the answer, especially when you pull him in with your hands on the back of his neck to attach your lips to his. And unlike the kiss in the bar this one felt perfect. 

There was awkwardness. He tilted his head perfectly, pulling you chest to chest as his hat covers both your heads while his lips melt against yours. He takes his time learning the kiss, his hands rubbing up and down your back as you deepen the kiss some more. This is what was meant to be and you both knew it at that moment. 

There is no objection when you begin unbuttoning his flannel, one at a time, never breaking the kiss as you push it off his shoulders and allowing it to fall to the floor before he reaches a hand up to throw the hat closer to the nightstand. He doesn’t waste time after he hears the thump of it landing to reach and lift his undershirt off, throwing it somewhere else as he makes eye contact. 

“Please tell me I ain’t dreamin’ right now.” He whispers out as you begin to undo your own shirt to slip off before leaning up. 

“I can’t tell.” You whisper back, leaning on your tiptoes to attach your lips once more, his arms wrapping around you to undo the back of your bra. 

Normally when a man removes the bra it is thrown away and he doesn’t focus too much on any of it, but Tyler? He kisses around your jaw as he undoes the buckle of it before his kisses move down your neck while he drags the bra down until he can drop it, allowing his hands to roam. The feel of his hands sends shivers throughout you and yet they keep you warm as you try to back him to the bed. 

“You sure?”

“Never been more sure.” You whisper back, undoing his belt as he kicks off his boots. “I want you.”

“I’ve been waiting to hear those words from you.” He grunts out, pulling you closer before falling back onto the bed and dragging you with him. 

-

“Yet he's naked in my room

Missin' all the things he's missin'

God knows that he isn't livin' large”

-

It doesn’t take long for you both to strip, slowly and gently, until you are both bare. He doesn’t waste time kissing you gently before guiding you up the bed until you’re leaning on the pillow you hadn’t dragged away, kissing along jaw as you sigh out in relief. 

He takes his time kissing down your neck, nipping a bit to pull out a breathy moan from your lips before moving further down to kiss and suck at your breasts. He grunts out at the way you wiggle, a breathy giggle passing your lips until a moan passes them the moment his tongue circles one of your nipples. The sound draws his eyes to yours and that sweet lovestruck look falls into one of ferocity, the heated light within them as your lower stomach tightening and your hands rushing to get some contact. 

Once your hands find purchase he abandons your breasts, leaving them cold to the air, as he makes his way further down. Every kiss is followed by a lick, every nip is given a bushel of kisses to make up for it. He works your body until he makes it to your thighs, spreading them open for him to view, sending a shiver across your body. 

“Tyler, please.” You gasp out, that tight feeling in your stomach begging for relief as your thighs beg to shut, but he is having none of it. Keeping them forced open so that he may give your inner thighs the same treatment he had given the rest of your body. 

He gives up his torture with a growl before diving straight in to lick right between your folds. He keeps his hands around your hips to keep you pinned to him when your back arches as you moan out loud. He devours you, licking and sucking over and over with grunts and growls to match your moans. 

He doesn’t relent until your moan hits near scream and your hands grip at the pillow, dragging it to your face to bite into as you reach your peak, entire body shuddering as you moan out. 

He continues until you come down, pulling away to give you the smuggest smile you had ever seen from him, your entire body ablaze as you sit up to reach for him. 

The other kisses were sweet and gentle, this one was two animals claiming each other. And he let you take charge, your speed and your lead. Tasting your own juices as you dragged him back down to lay over you. 

-

“A boy who's nice that breathes

I swear he's nowhere to be seen”

-

He’s quick to flip you both over so that he’s beneath you and you are on top, a wave of panic filling you. 

“Tyler….I’ve never-” You begin, hands landing on his chest as he gazes up at you with the softest eyes you have ever seen from him. 

“If you don’t want to then that’s fine, Sweetheart.” He mutters, reaching over to grab where his hat landed and bringing it to set on your head. “But you might just need a little confidence.” 

And he was right, with the way he was looking at you and the way the hat felt, suddenly you believed you could rule the world. So you lifted yourself a bit, keeping the gaze as you reached down to line yourself up to him, and with a loud moan you sunk yourself down. 

-

“It's slim pickings

If I can't have the one I love

I guess it's you that I'll be kissin'”

-

His grunts were easily replaced by moans as you sunk down, his hands digging into your hips, letting you take a moment to adjust before guiding your hips slowly. You tilt your hips with each guide, struggling to catch the proper rhythm and getting pleasure nonetheless. 

A moan escapes you as he guides you down at the same time he thrusts up and it’s like something clicks as you begin to find your own rhythm. Using your hands on his chest to keep yourself stable as you begin to speed up your movements. 

Tyler gives in, enjoying your new pace, thrusting up into every bounce. Grunting and growling as his nails dig into your hips and he closes his eyes to enjoy the pleasure while you lean down to nip at his chest which makes him groan. “Darlin’...”

And that makes something inside of you burn, a feral moan passing your lips as you speed up, nails digging into his chest before he sits up to kiss you, helping you bounce on his cock with ease. 

“Y-you’re…” He groans. “Fuckin’ perfect.”

His arms wrap around you, and he readjusts so that he was on his knees to thrust into you, pulling you down to meet him. The sound of skin slapping is alluring and your thighs clench to cage him in as you lose your breath and shut your eyes. 

“Tyler.” You whine, nails digging into his back as something in you begins coiling, tighter and tighter until he bites down between your neck and shoulder and it all falls in an instant. All you can see is white as you bite down on your own lip, holding him tight to you as the waves of pleasure subside. 

He continues to thrust before falling under the same spell that had you, keeping his forehead pressed into your collarbone as he spills his cum into you. 

You both fall into the cushion of the bed, shuddering as he pulls out before closing your eyes to catch your breath from that experience. And when he wraps his arms around you it’s far too easy to fall asleep from his warmth surrounding you like a blanket of it’s own.

-

“Just to get my fixings

Since the good ones are deceased or taken

I'll just keep on moanin' and bitchin'”

-

It’s the feeling of him moving that wakes you a couple hours later, when the bed dips as he stands, making you blink in the dark to see what he is doing. Apart of you panics that he might be leaving, and this was just going to be a one night stand until he pulls on his boxers and turns back to come lift you. 

“Why are we awake?” You croak, already feeling cranky at the fact that you had been woken up. 

“I figured you’d want to shower, and this is when I normally do.”

“You shower at 4am?” You scoff, clinging to him as he sets you down so your feet touch the cold bathroom floor. 

“Yeah. I figured out that no one else showers at this time-”

“Because it’s crazy.”

“Well since no one else showers at this time the water is always at its best pressure and warmth.” He explains, reaching in to turn it on. “Then I can get another hour or so of sleep.”

“Oddly genius.” You giggle, laughing when he shucks the boxers off as a pretend strip tease before hauling you into the shower with him. 

-

“Moanin' and bitchin'”

-

He takes his time washing your body, lathering the soap over your body with gentle hands as his eyes traced over you over and over again like he was trying to memorize every inch of you. 

He let you do the same, the only words spoken never went above a whisper so you didn’t break the bubble and shampooed eachother before shutting the water off and using the towel. 

When he swings the door open he makes sure to raise his eyebrows, a look of pride covering his face that makes you scoff. 

“You cannot be serious.”

“I wonder what hot scoundrel fixed that for you…”

“Hmmm. I wish I knew.” You tease, “I might have rewarded him.”

A small growl leaves his lips as he scoops you up and hauls you to the bed once more. 

-

“Since the good ones call their exes wasted

And since the Lord forgot my gay awakenin'

Then I'll just be here in the kitchen

Servin' up some moanin' and bitchin'”

-

You sit on the motel floor as Tyler works around you to get ready for the day, listening to you bitch and moan as he struggles to put his boots on. 

“I’m so sore.” You whine, falling flat on the floor to stare at the ceiling. “Yeah? At least you never have to worry about dying alone.”

“No,” You huff out a laugh. “Now I just have to worry about you killing me.” 

“Never.” He smiles, coming to haul you off the floor just to throw you over his shoulder and head for the door.

-

[gaycostanzas]

"barry ending was underwhelming" wow it's almost as if it was a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing

[snow-lite]

HEAR ME OUT AGAIN:

References in the season 2 opening:

I feel like I was reaching for Ambessa and Mel, probably because I was, but this makes more sense, if we stay in the theatre theme, with Shakespeare too, then they're Caesar and Brutus, it fits with the style of the chair too:

As for Jinx, Les Misérables fits better:

And if everything is about a play maybe Ekko's is Macbeth as well:

"Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time;

And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!

Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And then is heard no more. It is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing."

I wish it was Romeo and Juliet, as a timebomb delulu girl but hey...

[house-of-mirrors]

Shakespeare quotes in the Sixth Coil, or what I've read of it so far

—in that sleep of death, what dreams may come—

Hamlet, Act III Scene I. The famous "To be or not to be" speech.

To die, to sleep; To sleep, perchance to dream—Ay, there's the rub: for in that sleep of death what dreams may come, when we have shuffled off this mortal coil, must give us pause.

2.

—to break one's staff; bury one's book—

The Tempest, Act V Scene I, paraphrased. When Prospero gives up his magic (read by some as Shakespeare giving up his playwriting career).

I’ll break my staff, Bury it certain fathoms in the earth, And deeper than did ever plummet sound I’ll drown my book.

3.

—blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! rage—

King Lear, Act III Scene II. The great storm, when Lear rages against ungrateful daughters. The storm could be read as a symbol for madness.

Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow! You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout [...]Smite flat the thick rotundity o' the world! [...] That make ingrateful man!

4.

–but a walking shadow–

Macbeth, Act V Scene V. The "Tomorrow, tomorrow, and tomorrow" speech.

Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player who struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more. It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.

5.

—you have but slumbered here—

A Midsummer Night's Dream, Act V Scene I. The ending of the play, spoken by Puck directly to the audience.

If we shadows have offended, Think but this, and all is mended, That you have but slumbered here While these visions did appear. And this weak and idle theme, No more yielding but a dream,

6.

—shall I compare thee to a moonlit night—

Play on Sonnet 18, "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day." Part of the "young man" or "fair youth" series of sonnets, in which Shakespeare is preoccupied with the preservation of youth and beauty and urges the young man to have children so the man's beauty and legacy will remain in the world. Progeny as a form of immortality.

Moonlight... should be. Particular parts of the sonnet that jumped out to me:

Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimmed; (lines 5-6)

[...]

Nor shall Death brag thou wander’st in his shade When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st: (lines 11-12)

[xxcalicofemmexx]

life is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury signifying nothing

[silverskye13]

The Shakespeare line "you egg? (He stabs him)" Is totally Hels towards Wels lol

Lin you're hilarious lol

"What. Are you doing?" Welsknight asked, trying not to sound as confused as he was.

Helsknight glanced up from the book he was reading to regard him with obvious disdain. "That question doesn't deserve an answer."

"Okay fine." Welsknight rolled his eyes. "Why are you here, on Hermitcraft, reading a book."

"Because Shakespeare was made to be read in the sun, and on the stage," Helsknight sniffed. "I'm not putting on a one-man-performance, and there's no sun in hels."

"So you're here."

"No, I'm on the moon."

"You don't have to be so touchy," Wels scowled. He took a breath, and decided to try his best to be civil. "I like Shakespeare."

Helsknight dropped his gaze back down to his book, "Congratulations."

"He's a classic." Welsknight continued steadfastly. "Which play are you reading?"

"Don't you have something better to do?"

"Obviously not."

"Get thee gone, go mind your own damn business." Helsknight closed his book again, keeping his thumb on the page he had last been reading, and smacked Wels none-too-gently on the leg with it. "Out, damned spot."

"You're reading Macbeth?" Welsknight smirked. "Of course you're reading Macbeth."

"And just what is that supposed to mean?"

"It's just very on brand." Welsknight laughed. "You wouldn't read any comedy. You've got no sense of humor."

Helsknight let out a long breath, trying valiantly to maintain hold of his dwindling patience. He reopened his book and glared down at the pages, doing his best to stubbornly ignore Wels. Welsknight watched him. Admittedly, if he were a Shakespearian character, his fatal flaw would be his inability to let sleeping dogs lie, no matter how wise it was to walk away and let Helsknight read. He wasn't hurting anyone, and Welsknight didn't particularly feel like getting into a fight.

But how many chances did he get to really annoy his evil half?

"So, how far in the play are you?" Welsknight asked, earning himself a long half-groan, half-growl from his other half. "Have they killed Duncan yet?"

"Spoilers."

"You just quoted Lady Macbeth's nervous breakdown at me. You've read Duncan's death before."

"Maybe I've just heard the quote somewhere."

"Out, damned spot," Welsknight mused. "Past that then. From the damnéd spot to the candle, perchance?"

"Excuse me?"

"Fair Lady Macbeth's demise!" Welsknight proclaimed, reveling in the chagrined expression Helsknight shot him. "Out, out, brief candle? Why, life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more!"

"It is a tale told by an idiot," Helsknight glared, "full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."

"I'm going to pretend you were just finishing the stanza, and that wasn't an insult."

"It was an insult."

"You're probably not even reading Macbeth," Welsknight smiled, ignoring the jab. "One of the other great monologues maybe."

"Don't you dare--"

"Fie, fie! Unknit that threat’ning unkind brow," Welsknight exclaimed, eyebrows raised, his barely contained grin undercutting his attempt at a dramatic gasp. "And dart not scornful glances from those eyes to wound thy lord, thy king, thy governor. It blots thy beauty as frosts do bite the meads, confounds thy fame as whirlwinds shake fair buds, and in no sense is meet or amiable."

"Would you shut up?"

"Come, come, you froward and unable worm! My mind hath been as big as yours, my heart as great, my reason haply more, to bandy word for word and frown for frown."

"Wels I swear--"

"Not taming any shrews, then?" Welsknight continued, undaunted. "Probably not. You're probably reading something violent and full of itself. That matches you best."

Helsknight got to his feet, his hand on his sword hilt, his book forgotten in the grass. Welsknight took a few steps back, giving himself a little distance to work with in case Hels decided to lunge at him. He smiled and bowed low. "I do protest, I never injured thee but love thee better than thou canst devise, till thou shalt know the reason of my love! And so, good Capulet, which name I tender as dearly as mine own, be satisfied."

Helsknight's fist tightened on his sword hilt. "I have had just about enough of you."

"No no, you've got the verse all wrong," Welsknight tutted in mock dismay. "The next line belongs to Mercurio, saying: O calm, dishonorable, vile submission! Alla stoccato carries it away."

Welsknight drew his sword with a theatrical flourish and declared, "Helsknight, you ratcatcher! Will you walk?"

Helsknight narrowed his eyes. "What wouldst though have of me?"

"Good king of cats! Nothing but one of your nine lives, that I mean to make bold withal, and, as you shall use me hereafter, dry-beat the rest of the eight. Will you pluck your sword out of his pilcher by the ears? Make haste, lest mine be about your ears ere it be out."

Welsknight expected Helsknight to draw his sword then, and respond in kind as Tybalt had. Instead, Helsknight simply stood there, studying him contemplatively. A few seconds passed, and then a full minute, and Welsknight lowered his sword, pointing the tip towards the grass.

"What's the matter Hels?" Welsknight smirked. "Too much of a brute to memorize Romeo and Juliet?"

Helsknight raised an unamused eyebrow. "What, you egg?"

Welsknight blinked, incredulously. He had enough time to place the line in Macbeth, and enough time again to remember when in the story the stupid line took place. And then he didn't think much of anything, because Helsknight had stabbed him.

"Rude." Welsknight managed.

"Young fry of treachery," Helsknight finished the line. Then he bent to pick up his book, and Welsknight respawned with Helsknight's parting words ringing in his head. "If you must know, it was Sonnet 73."

Welsknight sat up in his castle, shuddering off the last ghost of his respawn. He rolled his eyes at the unpleasantness, and then, because he was curious, padded over to his shelf to grab his book of Shakespeare's sonnets from his collection of books.

[Sonnet 73]

That time of year thou mayst in me behold

When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang

Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,

Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.

In me thou see'st the twilight of such day

As after sunset fadeth in the west,

Which by and by black night doth take away,

Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.

In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire

That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,

As the death-bed whereon it must expire,

Consum'd with that which it was nourish'd by.

This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong,

To love that well which thou must leave ere long.

Welsknight read the poem again, an eyebrow raised. "All that drama, and he's not even reading a play."

Welsknight rolled his eyes. "Whatever Hels."

He shelved the book.

[silentagecinema]

macbeth (1948) directed by orson welles

"Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, creeps in this petty pace from day to day; to the last syllable of recorded time; and all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more. It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."

[macaronijail06]

“Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And then is heard no more. It is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing.” -Macbeth

[sictransitgloriamvndi]

“Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day To the last syllable of recorded time, And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player That struts and frets his hour upon the stage And then is heard no more: it is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing.” - Macbeth, Act 5, Scene 5

[brightstarofnoct]

what do you think of your classmates sirius : D ?

JIU ( @severedscales ): He’s fascinating, in a way. So studious, so monotonous. He seems to act strange in front of that Kioku girl. I think it’s a little bit funny how we almost wear our hair similarly. Would it be weird if I said I wanted to dissect him?

KIOKU (same as above): Very forgetful. I want to know why… but I can’t just go up to someone and ask, “Why is your memory horrible?” She’s so friendly. She reminds me of sunflowers. I might give her one some day.

NENE: Her brightness is very blinding, it’s a little bit annoying. She’s always writing letters. Either that, or she’s pining over some girl like a loser. I deliver her work sometimes. I try not to think about her, really.

XAEL: He doesn’t like me. It’s fun to mess with him.

NUMA: Arguably one of the most interesting in ANAKT Garden. He has such a warm feeling about him… it’s not overwhelming, or bad. He’s always so nice. He has so much energy, he loves sports, but he’s not a sore loser. He’s even willing to teach others how to play with him. I worry for him sometimes when I notice he spends too long in the bathroom and comes out looking rather pale. I see it normally happens right after lunch, if he eats. He usually skips it. It’s so odd to me how much energy he has even if I almost never see him eat. I want to know everything about him.

ZERO ( @myworld-collapsing ): Zero is like a shadow. I think their name is fitting. I don’t really see Zero, but I feel him around me. He’s obsessed with me. I don’t mind it, though. I think it’s cute. I like seeing his reactions.

ASAHI (same as above): I don’t believe in matchmaking. I often find myself annoyed with her for a reason I can’t describe.

DANTE ( @imperfectnothing ): I like him. He’s very helpful to me. I appreciate the company he brings. Dante himself doesn’t scare me, but… There’s something about the way he makes me feel. It’s different. That’s what’s scary. I don’t want to hurt him for loving me. I don’t know exactly what that means. I might tell him when I know what this feeling is.

MILL ( @waterydream ): Mill is like me. Mill and I share a lot of the same attributes. I don’t have to “pretend” with Mill. He told me I didn’t have to. That neither of us have to. But still, I wouldn’t call them a friend. Sometimes Mill does say things that seem a little bit targeted, though I wouldn’t call it annoying. I’d say we’re acquaintances at most.

TOKI ( @eventseraphim ): What a freak. It’s like he saw through my facade the moment we met. He likes bullying me as if it’s a joke. It doesn’t matter, though. He makes for an interesting friend. I will say that he is quite lucky I didn’t come to ANAKT for new test subjects…

INNAMORATI ( @alien-til-i-stage ): Very friendly. I don’t like it when he messes with me. I don’t want to show it and hurt his feelings, he seems fragile.

MACBETH (same as above): “To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, creeps in this petty pace from day to day, to the last syllable of recorded time; and all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more. It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.” … Sorry. He’s named after a show I’ve read before and enjoyed, that’s all. I like Shakespeare. It’s interesting to me how humans used to talk… I think Macbeth is very well named. I wonder if he’s read the play…

YUME ( @sotogalmo ): So odd. I want to take Yume apart to see how what makes him tick. Is that so wrong?

YVONNE ( @aakaneeee ): Hm. She reminds me of vines. To be loved by her is to be trapped in a thorny embrace for all eternity…

ELIANA (same as above): I don’t know why Nene finds her interesting. Nene has such odd tastes…  At least Eliana is pretty.

YAEL ( @lookatmysillies ): He’s such an enabler. He doesn’t know what he’s doing to me, and I’d like to keep it that way. He doesn’t need to know anything I don’t need to tell him.

[beach-echo]

“This was your life, Higgs. Your tale, told by an idiot full of sound and righteous fury…

Signifying nothing.”

- Journal #23

[cheapfakeblood]

i know as well as anyone else that macbeth is not a happy story by any means, but i guess i'm just a stupid romantic, because all i can think of is this:

macbeth lost his hunger for power, for just a moment, upon hearing of lady macbeth's death.

macbeth, a man driven to madness by his insatiable lust for power and glory, who had no second thoughts about sending so many murderers after his opponents, stopped for breath for just a second after his wife died, and delivered the famous line, "Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player/That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,/And then is heard no more. It is a tale/Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,/Signifying nothing." (V, v)

this irredeemable, frenzied man, who could barely be called a human at that point, sobered up enough to numbly reflect upon the loss of his wife before completely losing faith in life and resigning himself for death on the battlefield.

macbeth is undoubtedly a tragedy, of course. all the gore and madness and death ensured that; but isn't it true that every love story was a tragedy, at some point, too?