#because he's like its getting cold and dark really quick and I can drive you home even though he lives in another part of the city

[hyena-honeybadger]

(CW: Smut/Monster Smut and Trauma)

Smut to come in later chapters ;)

No title yet, feel free to leave suggestions <3

You hated waiting for your brother to finish his swim meetings, you actually couldn’t swim at all, despite living in a seaside town. Some people found this humorous and worth making fun of you for, you didn’t care. You would never swim again. You loved to swim when you were younger but one day something happened and you almost drowned in the ocean. You didn’t swim after that and now its been so long you don’t even remember what really happened that day, nor do you even remember how to swim. But your brother still loves it and is on the swim team, so you have to wait for him to finish so he cn drive both of you home from school. He still hasn’t come out of the locker room so you go to see if he’s still by the pool. As you enter the poolroom. It’s a long room with your standard swimming lanes and diving blocks on one end, in the corner you see all of the swim team standing around chatting. You move over to talk to them staying as far away from the  pool as you possibly can.

“Hey, c’mon, I wanna leave, you’ll see them tomorrow,” You whine.

You were tired and wanted to go home, relax, and rewatch your favorite show. 

“We were talking to the new dude, give us a bit.” your brother says as he turns to face you.

As he turns you see the guy behind him, clearly the new guy, since you’ve never seen him before and you’ve been dragged to every race and meet ever to “support your brother” like he cares. His dark hair looked pitch black, made even darker because it was wet, and paired with his dark eyes, that were almost intimidating. He was tall and lean, muscular but not bulky, with broad shoulders and a nice waist. The ideal swimmer’s build. He had a necklace that was a shark tooth and a piece of green seaglass hanging from a blck cord. You stop cold, feeling warmth rise into your cheeks, embarrassed about whining in front of the new swimmer

“This is Caspian, Caspian this is my little sis, Y/N,” Your brother says half turning back towards Caspian and waving towards you. 

“Um… Uh Hi.” You say dumbly, unable to think of anything else.

He smiles at you, one of those little smiles where just one side of their mouth goes up, almost like a smirk but it feels nicer than that to you. You try not to think about it to much and look back at your brother

“Sorry, but can you finish up soon?” You ask

“Actually I think it’s fine if I leave now, right guys?”

All the guys nod and mutter “yeahs”

“Cool, just let me go change,” he says.

You nod and turn to leave but first you sneak a quick glance back at Caspian, you lock eyes with him and quickly look way and swiftly exit. Once you are outside the pool room and out of view you sink to your knees and hold your head in your hands in shame, thinking about the interaction you just had. Your thoughts linger just a bit to long on his smile. You lightly slap your cheeks with your hands and mutter “get a hold of yourself” under your breath. You sit there for a little longer until you see your brother coming out of the changing rooms. You stand up and follow him out to his car and spend the car ride home trying not to think about Caspian but the thought of him still haunts you until you fall into your usual nightmare filled sleep that night.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . - HoneyBadger

[milkws-world]

Bitter// Simon “Ghost” Riley

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader

•Readers call sign is Circe!

Warnings: ANGSTTT, descriptions of burn out and sad feelings, ghost being a little bit of an ass, two adults sorting their shit out

Summary:

“I’m sorry doll, I really am” he was pressing his forehead against yours now. “I’m not any good at this either, if you couldn’t already tell. But I wanna try, wanna try for you.” Your hands reached up to wrap around his wrists, you felt like you were about to burst. You knew how rare it was for him to say stuff like this and the fact that he wanted to try was pulling at your heart. “Don’t even wanna think about losing you and the fact that I made you doubt that-.” He cut himself off, he looked like he was trying to regain his composure.

A/N: Heyyy lovelies, long time no see. This can be read as a stand alone or as a Pt.2 to Cold Hands. There is a second part to this one with all the spicy stuff so don’t worry😋. I’ll probably be posting that next Monday or Tuesday.

It had been a month since the night he had stayed over at your flat. The night he touched and caressed you like it’d be the last time. You had been intimate before, there was no denying that, but the fact he stayed that night changed everything. You had feared it’d been too much too soon; your mind was a mess compared to the tidy and organized side of the bed opposite you, his side.

He had been deployed with Price and Gaz onto some mission you were only given brief details about.

Urzikstan. Massive cargos. Illegal weapons. Capture the target.

You were on R&R(rest and recuperation) by the captain. Usually, you would have been at the door of his office as soon as you received the news, but it had been a long fucking time since you’d gotten some proper rest. The dark areas underneath your eyes, scars that were still in their healing process, rough hands that could barely be flexed all the way due to the death grip you constantly had on your gun, and the tightness in every single muscle were all indicators towards the fact you needed a break.

The physical aspect of it all was only the beginning to the burn out you had felt coming long ago. You felt like shit to put it quite plainly. This month had you feeling empty and mentally exhausted beyond belief, when these long missions were finally done you no longer felt any sense of accomplishment just relief that it was finally over. It had been hard to get out of bed alone that morning no warning, no note, no nothing. You couldn’t exactly say you were surprised but anything at all would’ve been nice, because it’s what you would’ve done for him.

Now maybe that’s just you going out of your way or falling too hard for a man whose face you had never even fully seen. But it’s also just basic fucking respect from your point of view. Not having much to do was really starting to take its toll on you, too much thinking and reading into things you were sure weren’t even there was driving you insane. But it was only a couple more days before they’d come back to base, before he came back.

Meeting debriefs after missions is always quick, everyone just wants to get out of that room and cleanse themselves of all the horrors and grief that comes with the job. It was coincidence really; you didn’t even know they had gotten back. It was when you and Soap were on your way to the mess hall that you saw him, and he saw you. He had to have. You were right fucking there; you swore your shoulder even grazed a bit when you passed by.

“Glad to have ya’ back Lt.” the Scottish man said. You could tell he was hanging onto that last bit of sanity by the sag in his shoulders and the dragging of his feet, but his eyes said it all for him.

“Soap” the word came out dry and curt, a vocal representation of the man himself.

That was it, no nod or a glance of his eyes over to you to acknowledge that you were there. Just skimmed right past you. That was fine you tried to convince yourself, it’s probably what you were like after coming back from a mission. But it hurt, yet again you knew you shouldn’t expect much from him. You were a grown woman you shouldn’t be thinking about such a short and simple moment like a teenager in high school who can't wait to pass by her crush in the hallways.

Soon enough it had been two weeks since they’d been back, and everyone had gone their separate ways to recover from possibly the longest past 6 months of their lives. Those two weeks on base were hell though and you had never been gladder to be in your own plain and undecorated flat by yourself. He completely ignored you, and you had tried to come up with reasons or justifications but there just wasn’t any that were good enough for you.

It was the third day after the group returned when you tried talking to him for the first time. You figured you’d give him some time alone to gather his thoughts and recover from the long mission, but he was not up for your antics. You had caught sight of him leaving the mess hall and decided to excuse yourself from the group. Your small and quick steps making work to catch up to his long strides.

“Ghost” no response. At this point you were starting to get annoyed.

“Simon” you said more quietly as you were now only two feet behind him. He turns around and meets your soft gaze with a plain one. He looked almost bothered, you could feel it in the way he turned around with the slightest bit of hesitation. “Hey, are you alright or-”

“Fine” his answer was simple as always never a man of many words, at least not in public. You were starting to blank out under his cold gaze. He didn’t make you nervous but with the way he was looking at you right now you couldn’t necessarily say you felt at peace either.

“Ok um, well just wanted to check up on you really quickly” you felt like you had set yourself up. The air was thick, and you could feel your thoughts racing at 100 miles per hour as you waited for a response.

“Look sergeant, whatever you think is going to happen it’s not going to. I’m not here for hugs and cuddles, I'm here to do a fuckin’ job” to say you felt shocked was an understatement, he looked unfazed. “I'd suggest you do the same.” He walks away and you stay rooted in your spot, still processing his bitter words.

To say you were pissed was an understatement, who the fuck did he think he was? The rest of those two weeks were filled with awkward tension and silent fury from your side. It was to the point you couldn’t even stand being in the same room as him for more than a couple seconds, partly because the sight of him made your blood boil and because as much as you didn’t want to admit it you were upset. To have something build up little by little then just have that snatched away like it was nothing was horrible. He had gained your trust just as you had his, not just over a couple of nights but years of knowing each other and protecting one another with your lives. Holding each other at the depths of night and piecing each other back up with kisses and soft yet rough hands.

You couldn’t sleep, the fatigue had been slowly pulling at your bones like a tide pulling you in to the comfort of a vast sea. It was too much though; his words had been taunting your brain over and over again. So, you got up, ripping off the soft sheets which were a blessing compared to the coarse ones back at base. The need to get some fresh air and freeze your thoughts with the cold night air was starting to sound more pleasant than sulking in bed.

As soon as you open the door your reflexes take over for you, reaching for a gun in a holster that was long forgotten in the backpack you had left in your room. You soon realized there was no danger though, just a mass of black with jeans, a hoodie, and a black surgical mask with a hand raised midair. Was he about to knock?

“Ghost” you sounded breathless, even to yourself. Like the wind had been knocked out of you at just the sight of those eyes. Those god damned eyes. So responsive to everything around him, shifting at the slightest sound and showing emotions that could only be understood if one knew him. Knew him like you did. He looked tired, the bags underneath his eyes with no paint to cover them up were exposing him. “Are you alright?” Your question suddenly brought you back to your brief conversation a couple weeks earlier. You couldn’t help yourself though, worry taking over as there were very few reasons for him to be here.

“Fi-” he exhaled through his nose suddenly stopping himself, ah so he also remembered your conversation. “I was in town just wanted to come check up on you.”

“At 2 in the morning?” you were holding back. You wanted to say how shit he had made you feel for the last two weeks.

“Yeah I know, look can I come inside? I wanna- I need to talk to you.” He sounded desperate, and you considered it for a second, hesitating. “Please” to say you felt defeated as you opened the door wider for him to come in was an understatement.

You waited for him to start; he was the one that had come to you first not the other way around. He looked nervous almost, his tense posture making you feel more uneasy as well, he had that effect on you.

“Circe, I didn’t mean what I said back at base” he was looking at you with pleading eyes. You knew where this was going. “I pushed you away and I was an arse, I didn’t mean to fuck up what we had going on.”

“Simon” you could tell hearing his name took him by surprise by the way his pupils widened “what you did and what you said it fucking hurt.”

“I'm not a good at any of this especially trying to read you when you won’t even look at me but if you don’t want this anymore just tell me.” You continued, “Don’t destroy my trust, don’t leave me to pick up the pieces by myself after you say shit like that.” You could feel your eyes watering a bit, you don’t know why you were getting so emotional, although it was probably because the thought of losing what little you had built with him felt grim.

He couldn’t help it, especially when your eyes were getting that glossy look and your lower lip was pouting out a little. So he reached out, slowly, like a child dipping their feet to test out the waters. He wasn’t wearing any gloves and his hands felt cold as they held your face delicately, as if he was bearing the world's most fine China. He tilted your face up so you’d look at him and fuck, he knew he had screwed up, and if he was going to make it up to you he had to do it fast.

“I’m sorry doll, I really am” he was pressing his forehead against yours now. “I’m not any good at this either, if you couldn’t already tell. But I wanna try, wanna try for you.” Your hands reached up to wrap around his wrists, you felt like you were about to burst. You knew how rare it was for him to say stuff like this and the fact that he wanted to try was pulling at your heart. “Don’t even wanna think about losing you and the fact that I made you doubt that-.” He cut himself off, he looked like he was trying to regain his composure.

“Simon, it's alright” you knew he was being sincere, and you also wanted to try, “just please, don’t do this to me again. Because you know I won’t tolerate it, not even from you.”

“I know, I know” he was pulling you closer to him by wrapping an arm around your waist.

“Alright” he takes you by surprise with his next action though. He pulls back only slightly to tear off his mask, and heavens above he is gorgeous to you. His jaw, sharp and stubbled with short hairs. His nose sharp and straight with a slight bump, and his eyes. Those beautiful eyes that brought his face all together.

“Hidin’ all this from me under a mask?” you were smiling up at him now. “Not anymore” he responds with a sly smirk on his face. His lips are brushing against yours and you can't resist anymore. So, you bring his lips to yours and close the gap. It was gentle, starting off with short kisses but you were greedy it had been far too long. He can sense your eagerness and slowly slips his tongue into your mouth, swiping it over your own and over the roof of your mouth. He tasted like Marlboro reds with the slightest hint of Whiskey, his favorite of course.

You felt whole again, the missing puzzle piece was finally found. You kind of hated how much you were relying on him already, but God was it addicting, like the poison you could taste in his mouth. He was grabbing at you slowly bringing his hand down from your face to your neck to keep you in place. It was getting messy, both of your spit was collecting at the corners of your mouth and you felt like you’d asphyxiate from the lack of air but what he was giving you was more than enough to keep you going. His hand grabbed at your jaw to tilt your head and his hand on your waist dragged you closer making you arch up against him. His mouth slowly trailed down to your neck leaving soft kisses and sucking marks onto your neck as you leaned your head to the side. Then he went up right behind your ear, your soft spot. He pulled back to look at your face, you already felt disoriented form all the affection and he could tell.

He then softly placed his mouth right by your ear, “Let me make it up to you.”

A/N: hey there, hope you enjoyed that😙. In case you didn’t see the note on the top just know that there will be a second part to this with all the spicy stuff🌶️. I’ll probably be posting that next Monday or Tuesday, happy new years!

[anthotneystark]

One taste of your life (And I own your soul)

So I heard it was @thefreakandthehair's birthday and then I finished writing this, so Lex this is basically just for you now!

The day starts like any other.

He wakes up screaming, shaking, a cold sweat trailing down his spine. He takes a few minutes to pull himself together, reminds himself it’s all over, ignores the feeling of heavy, dark air on his skin. He ignores the sound of screaming in his head, the tightness in his chest. Before he’s really ready, but after he should already have been moving, he pushes himself up and drags himself into his routine.

He showers, feels like he’s trying to scrub the fear and pain off of himself, and hopes that one day that will actually work. He catches himself looking around as he gets dressed, an uneasy feeling prickling at the back of his neck. It’s the feeling of being watched. But there’s no one in his room, so he shakes it off and moves on.

He has his morning phone call with Robin as they both make breakfast. His heart aches at the thought of her being so far away, just the same as he knows hers does, but he’d refused to let her put off school just because he wasn’t ready to leave yet. She comes back when she can, he’s made trips to visit her, but it’ll never feel right until they can live in the same place again. He won’t make her feel bad for getting out, not when he wanted her to, not when he’s so happy that she’s out there doing things she loves and having fun.

When it’s time, when he can leave too, they’ll get a place together and never have to be apart again.

For now though, instead of gossiping during a morning car ride, he tells her all the drama she’s missing out on and lies about how he’s definitely eating over the sink so his bagel crumbs are contained.

When she has to go, her classes beckoning, he lets her go and tells her he’ll update her with the next schedule his boss puts out. He’s on days right now, but he’s hoping he’ll be on nights soon.

With Robin gone, and Family Video destroyed back in March, he hasn’t bothered to go back into the rental business. He opted to follow a different career path, and with the amount of people who fled the town, the fire department had gladly taken him on. Turns out, for someone who likes to take care of people and is willing to take on tasks like herding a group of rambunctious pre-teens, being a paramedic has been the perfect fit.

He throws on his uniform, laces up his boots, and ignores that feeling pricking at the back of his neck as he walks to his car. He looks around, but it’s a calm day. There’s barely a breeze in the trees; the leaves are still, the world is quiet.

There’s no one there.

The drive is easy, navigating the new roads built from his house to the center of town. Once everything started being rebuilt, mostly by the people who were convinced it was worth it to stay, things settled down. With the cracks in the earth closed up, with homes rebuilt, it looked almost like nothing had happened.

He lost count of how many times he wished nothing had happened.

He let himself get lost in the boredom of no emergencies throughout the day, let himself be distracted by the adrenaline of people needing help. There’s a kitchen injury on Maple Street, a ladder incident on Avalon Court, even a legitimate kitten in a tree call just down from the high school. Being the youngest, and thus the one thrown into the grunt work more often than not, he’d been sent on up to get it. It wasn’t his first kitten rescue, not with more than a few displaced pets, but the kitten only scratched him a little as he pulled it into his arms.

Back on the ground, kitten back in the arms of its person, he’d made quick work of cleaning up the blood that welled up on his hand. His movements stilled as he went to bandage it, his eyes darting up, looking around but seeing no reason for the hair on the back of his neck to stand up. He brushed the feeling aside.

There was no reason to be on edge.

If anyone had asked him back in high school, he’d have said that 24 hours was a long time, plenty of time.

If anyone had asked him after he found out monsters were real, he’d have said 24 hours was an eternity when the chips were down.

If anyone had asked him today, he’d say 24 hours is a blink, a breath, it’s nothing, a blip of time that only carries meaning once it’s over, once you can feel the loss of it.

Loss or not, he’s more relieved when it’s over and he can go home again. The feeling has stuck with him, the hair on the back of his neck, the on edge, the vigilance. It happens, he’s aware, but he’s also aware that today he’s just being dramatic, just being paranoid. As he waits for his shift to end, his 24 hours nearly up, he watches the bats finish their hunt in the almost-dawn light. They’re a mix of swooping and flailing, graceful and clumsy, and not for the first time, he thinks of a boy who was the same.

He thinks of curly hair and a devilish smile, kind eyes and loud laughter. He thinks of rough hands and the gentle curl of smoke from his lips.

It’s not the first time he’s stolen his thoughts and made his heart ache, and it won’t be the last.

The sting lessens the fear that’s shadowed him all day, and he looks up at the approaching dawn with the phantom hand on his shoulder.

The alarm doesn’t ring in the time he’s got left. He shares the easy camaraderie he has with his team, familiar but not family, because even if he doesn’t love them like his kids, he has to love them enough to have his back when they’re out on the truck. Trusting them enough is easy, he’s used to relying on partnerships and love has always come too easily to him.

But that love isn’t the same as what he’s built through much more real dangers. They know him, but they don’t know him enough to see the struggle of pulling on a smile. They know how to read him in the smoke but they don’t know how to read the emotions he shoves down under bravado and jokes.

It’s fine, they don’t need to. But knowing they can’t does nothing to ease the ache and alarm under his skin.

His whole drive home, he sees shadows out of the corner of his eye. A fleeting movement there. A noise here. He doesn’t run from his car into the safety of his home, he knows better. He knows what lurks in the shadows.

As he steps through the door, the feeling fades, vanquished by the safety of a space that’s his. He slips out of his uniform, puts off doing laundry for later, and drops into the couch in nothing but his undershirt and boxers. He closes his eyes and flicks on the TV, the sound just loud enough to drown out the noise of a creature approaching.

Without warning, with only the briefest sense of alarm flaring up, a small weight comes out of nowhere and lands squarely on his chest.

He doesn’t flinch.

Instead, he lifts his head, lifts an eyebrow, and pulls on his most unimpressed look.

“If I was standing, I’d be doing the Mom Pose.”

The bat, fluffy and almost too dark, just chirps happily at him before crawling up to hide in the crook of his neck.

He doesn’t try to move it.

It doesn’t take much longer for that telltale poof-flash-pop of time and space and whatever else is involved in the transformation, and then he’s left not with a clingy flying rodent, but a clingy metalhead with too-sharp teeth and an unusual diet.

Eddie yawns and settles into his side, nosing at his neck until Steve sighs and tilts his head away.

“You didn’t get enough mosquitos this morning? Or throughout the day when you were following me around?”

“How did you know I was following you around?”

“Survival instinct, I felt you,” Steve retorts. He feels Eddie’s grin against his neck before the sharp sting of his fangs, the sticky-warm feeling of pleasure kicking in moments later. A moan escapes him, but he’s long since given up on being ashamed of enjoying this moment too. Eddie doesn’t take much before his tongue is sealing up the wounds, pulling off of him with a wet pop.

“I’ll have to work on being sneakier then,” Eddie says, using Steve’s blissful relaxation to turn his head toward him, stealing a kiss much the same as he’d stolen lunch; with zero complaints and Steve wholeheartedly on board.

“You do that,” Steve laughs, the words muffled against Eddie’s lips. His own yawn interrupts the next kiss, but he doesn’t need to worry about being too tired. It’s a perfect excuse for Eddie to scoop him up and carry him to bed. The curtains are pulled closed, the covers pulled back, and there, in a bed that felt hostile just 24 hours earlier, Steve sinks into the safety of a man who any sane person would be terrified of just by reputation alone.

There, in arms that are stronger than any human, looking up into eyes that are red when the light hits them just right, Steve lets himself surrender into the sleep that calls his name. There are no screams in his head now, just whispered words about hobbits and dwarves and an adventure that Steve never manages to stay awake to hear in full. That’s okay though, Eddie will read those words to him as many times as needed, with a devilish smile and the occasional curl of smoke from his lips, with rough hands so gently brushing through locks of chestnut hair.

All is right with his world, the weight in his heart has lightened, and there’s no need to be afraid.

Posted on Ao3 too!

[dirtybitfic]

Reality pt 2

I got back to Oregon a couple days ago , but today is the big day . Matt aka Professor Sturniolo is flying in today . Im flipping my shit right now i've probably cleaned my house 30 times by now . I want everything to be perfect for him , I'm not really sure why I think I just like his approval . My house is more in the forest area , I love it . I like being secluded to be honest and having no neighbors right next to me is nice . I could literally walk around naked 24/7 in this house and no-one would know . Now that i'm pretty much just staying home and writing I didn't care to live in the big city . My parents helped me buy this house which i'm so thankful for . I told them the one thing I would ever want after graduation is a house of my own , it didn't have to be big or in the city . They found this house and immediately bought it , the price was great and its more than enough space for just me to be living in.

As I was fixing a couple things on my table and throwing some of the strewn dog toys back in the bin . My dog Misha is currently at my parents since I didn't want them to have to go through the trouble of staying here and commute to the city for work while I was in Greece . Im about to head out and pick her up since it's on the way to the airport , Matt had sent a text on his quick lay over that he was set to land at 3 pm . Its currently 1:30 so I definitely need to get my shit together and head to my parents.

After having a quick talk with my parents about my trip , me and Misha head off to the airport . The weather is amazing right now , so naturally I put the windows down and let the breeze blow through my hair . I think Misha can feel how nervous I am because she keeps giving me kisses as Im driving . The minute we enter the area Matt said he would be my hands are shaking and my heart beat is going crazy , it's so loud I can hear it in my head.

I drive slowly past the line cars parked looking for Matt . I see fluffy brown hair and immediately my heart drops ... its definitely him. I park and honk hoping to get his attention . His head snaps up with a smile as he looks at me and looking over my car giving a nod . I turn off my car and pop the trunk to put his luggage inside .He slowly walks over to me I smile at him and he stops to give me a hug . It's a bit awkward but it's nice . " So how was the flight?" I ask as I take his suitcase and put it in the trunk . " It was okay a bit bumpy but over all good " he says smiling as he watches me close my trunk. " Nice car" he says looking it over again , I smile " Thank you" . We both get in and Misha immediately gives him kisses making me laugh and smile . "Ahh the infamous Misha" he says giving her some pets . " I think she likes you " I say as I still laugh at how excited she is .

The security guys starts yelling at me to leave which pisses me off so I throw that bitch in drive and speed off. We get out of the fuck ass airport and start down the highway " So you hungry?" I ask him glancing over quickly . " Starving actually " he says and I smile and nod " Anything sound good?" I ask and he thinks for a second "Honestly mac and cheese sounds really good " he says and I laugh " Mac and cheese?" I ask still laughing to my self " Yes Mac and cheese" he says with a smile " Okay then I know a place we can go"

After grabbing some take out from a restaurant that specifically makes all different types of Mac and cheese were headed back to my house . It's gotten dark and a bit cold so i keep the windows rolled up. Matt seems to be enjoying the scenery as we drive further away from the city and onto some more rural roads . The roads are cast with a thick fog which is really beautiful and another reason why I love living here. Oregon has such a distinct vibe to it that I have always loved. " Is it always this foggy?" Matt asks breaking me out of my thoughts "Yeah pretty much only when it starts to get dark though" I answer and he nods " I like it " he says and I smile .

After a couple more minutes were turning onto my long drive way and driving through the fog and trees until we get to the end and I click the button to open the garage and go in and park . " Your house is beautiful" Matt says as we get out and Misha runs to the door . "Thank you" I say sweetly as I close the garage door and open the door letting Misha inside. Matt grabs the food and walks in while I go and grab his suitcase from my trunk . " Wow y/n your house is nice . How can you afford this right out of college?" he asks and I smile "Well it was kind of my graduation gift from my parents . I had told them that the one thing I wanted after graduation was a place of my own nothing to big or in the city so they looked and found this place for a surprisingly low rate and well here we are" I explain and he nods along as he sits at the island taking bait of his food . " Damn your parents must really love you , the only thing I got from my parents for graduating was a big hug and a card" he says laughing and I smile "Yeah I mean I guess since i'm their only child they really like to go all out and spoil me " I say with a shrug and he nods . I feed Misha than sit down to eat with him .

" So ... there are definitely some things we need to talk about" he says turning to me . I slowly swallow the food I just finished and turn to look at him " Yeah we uh we do " I say back nodding . " I know this is ... a weird situation for the both of us I mean former student and teacher relationship , not exactly the best way to start out " he says and I nod " Yeah I mean ... I never thought anything would happen with us especially given the circumstances " I say as I feel my face get hot . " I mean trust me I didn't either not that i'm mad about it but I kept it professional for as long as I could " he says and I nod smiling " Im glad you came here though its uh its nice not to be all alone out here for once " I say to him and he smiles as his hand slowly comes up to my face and pushes a strong of hair behind my ear " Oh trust me its my pleasure ... i'm glad you agreed to it . I do want to tell you about how it all tarted for me though you know developing feelings I guess" he says and I slowly nod " Id love to hear it " I say smiling which makes him smile " Okay well I guess it all started when I helped you on that one story you wrote second semester your freshman year . Your writing was so passionate and your beauty definitely helped but really what made me fall for you was your writing and I guess throughout the years getting to watch you grow as a writer in my classes made me excited and I started noticing little things about you that I liked and those little things turned into everything and you started becoming the reason I was excited to get up and teach " he explained and I couldn't help but giggle at his words but the smile and the feelings that flooded my body was something id never felt before " Wow I ... i'm not sure what to say " I say as a blush covers my entire body . " Well I would love to know about your little crush you had on me " he smirks making me smack him lightly and he laughs "Okay fine , I honestly think it started the second I saw you . I remember the first time I walked into your lecture room and saw you standing at the front with your sleeves rolled up and a smile on your face and all I could think was " Oh shit he's hot" and then I found out you were only a couple years older than me which made the attraction even bigger and then throughout the four years of having you as my teacher and you helping me with all my writing and sharing little moments and glances I just developed a huge crush . I had to remind myself everyday that you were my teacher and this just wasn't a possibility and trust me my friends never heard the end of it I came home every day talking about you " I said and the smirk never left his face and his eyes seemed to have a new found sparkle in them . " Well i'm glad you decided to reach put for help or we would have never told each other these things " he says as he places his hand on my thigh rubbing small circled with his thumb . " Yeah I am too cause I absolutely would have never said these things to you " I says laughing and he joins .

" So I know you had a long flight and I know you're probably jet lagged and want to shower and stuff " I say as I throw away our trash from dinner . " Yeah a shower would be nice " he smiles and I nod " Follow me ill show you were everything is " I say as I start up the stairs Misha following us closely wagging her tail. " Okay so this is my room and the shower is through that door , feel free to unpack your stuff in the dresser I don't use it for anything " I say and he smiles "Thank you , I won't be too long " he says and I smile " No take your time I have to let Misha out before it gets too late but ill be on the couch if you need anything " I say and start to walk out " Are you sleeping in here tonight ?" he asks and I turn around " well I was actually gonna take the couch and let you have my room " I say awkwardly as my cheeks blush " Y/n " he says and I look up " yeah?" "Your sleeping in here with me got that" he says and I gulp " Y-yeah yes okay" I stutter out and he smiles . " Good i'll come down when i'm done with the shower and maybe we can watch a movie or something" he says and I nod " sounds good to me" I say before leaving the room .

While I take Misha out into my small grassy back yard I call my best friend to tell her everything

" HOLY SHIT Y/N first of all I cant believe he came to stay with you second ... sharing the fucking bed oh my fucking god ... Im just in shock and i'm also very impressed at the same time . Your ex professor you had the biggest crush on and never shut up about is upstairs in your shower naked like thats crazy work ." she says making me laugh . " Girl I know i'm like uhhhhh I don't even know like i'm still processing it all but i'm happy about it all " I say and I can hear her sigh on the other end " Its just so hot like sexy young professor and former student , you know how many people fantasize about that shit " she says making me laugh ": Oh trust me I did for four fucking years and look at me now" I say and she giggles " Well I cant wait for the updates , have fun trying to keep your cool sleeping next to him tonight " she says making me smile " Well I love you ill talk to you soon" " Love you too" She says back before I hang up. " Mishaaa come on girl" I say and she comes running at me excitedly . We go back inside and I decide to run upstairs and change into my comfy pjs before he gets out of the shower .

As i'm changing I hear a creek behind me and turn to see Matt walk out with just a towel wrapped around his waist . " Oh shit sorry I didn't hear the water turn off" I rush out add throw on my silk tank top . " You're good " he casually says as he walks to his suit case grabbing his clothes and going back into the bathroom to change . I sit down at my vanity taking off my make up and doing my skincare . He comes back out in only sweatpants that hangs low on his hips showing his slim waits and v line that practically has me drooling . He catches me staring , I quickly turn back around and head for the door .

I go down to the kitchen and make myself some tea before going to the couch and getting comfortable. I sit down and flip through the movie selection and Misha jumps up and snuggles into my lap. I decide to just wait for Matt to get down here and let him pick the movie. I look through pictures from my trip while petting Misha until I hear matts footsteps descending the stairs . He's wearing a tight fitting shirt and grey sweat shorts , it's a very casual outfit but its doing something to me . " Find anything you want to watch?" he asks as he comes and sits down giving Misha some pets . " Not really I was just gonna let you decide " I say and hand him the remote. " Hmm okay lets see" he says as he leans forward rubbing his chin as he flips through.

After flipping through options he settled on Me before you , very risky choice . I never fail to cry like a baby when I watch this god damn movie but like come on its so sad. We are half way through the movie when Misha jumps down and heads to over to her bed laying down and falling asleep . He takes the chance to scoot closer to me and all me into his side . I try and hide my smile but fail when his hand runs softly through my hair . He smells like fall , I know that might sound stupid but he just smells like a nice cool fall day. He smells of cedar wood , cinnamon , some type of musk , leather , tobacco and something I cant quite place. As the movie goes on I slowly melt more and more into him loving the comforting feeling of someone holding me , even better that its him.

The movie gets to the really upsetting part and I try my best not to cry but fail. I try my best to hide it from him being slightly embarrassed until I hear him sniffle. I look up at him to see he's also crying which makes me smile and let out a small giggle to myself . " What are you giggling about?" he asks in a teasing tone " Oh nothing " I say back and he just shakes his head . By the time the movie ends we're both sobbing and laughing about it.

" of course you'd pick there most gut wrenching movie " I say smacking his arm while i'm still crying. " Okay your right i'm sorry I just love this movie so much " he says laughing while he wipes his tears . " You just wanna make me cry huh" I say in a joking manor but he smirks " Yeah I do just not like this " He says making my breathe hitch " Wh-what" I choke out and he just smiles .

After we both wipe our tears we head out on my porch for some fresh air before bed. " Its really is amazing out here... it's so quiet " Matt says as he stands at the railing looking out into the dark forest. " Yeah Its nice when i'm writing but at night its kind of creepy how quiet it is" I say and he looks over at me " Do you like living alone out here?" he asks and I sit to think about my answer " well... I like it sometimes . Its nice to have no distractions and to be able to do whatever I want but... It gets really lonely out here and sometimes I think I get in my head a lot without someone around me " I answer and he nods along . " I can understand that . I mean I live with my brothers who are loud and obnoxious and i've never really lived alone so I guess I just wandered how it would be " he says and I smile " I wish I had siblings . Even in my childhood it was pretty lonely even with living in the city . My parents worked a lot so I was alone a good amount of the time so I guess in a way i'm used to it but that doesn't mean I really enjoy it you know" I said and he nodded giving me a look that kind of looked like pity. “ i don’t think i would be who I am today if I didn’t have siblings I can’t imagine how lonely that must be” he says and I smile sadly “ yeah I mean it wasn’t terrible . My parents spoiled me 24/7 but no matter what they bought me I always wished I had a sibling to share it with but I’m chill with it now” I say and he smiles . “ you ready for bed?” He asks and I nod “ yeah I’m exhausted” I finish with a yawn.

We both make our way up stairs after I set the alarm and make sure all the doors are locked. I turn on the fan before hopping into bed . “Do you mind if I put on rain sounds… it’s kind of the only way I can fall asleep?” I ask wearily “oh no I don’t mind at all I always have to have some white noise playing to fall asleep too “ Matt says smiling . I turn on my rain sounds on my tv and even though it’s a black screen it gives off just the right amount of light so the room isn’t pitch black. I’m also deathly afraid of the dark.

I plug in my phone and he does the same . We both turn off the side lamps and snuggle into my warm covers sinking comfortably into the mattress. “Good night Matt” I say as I slowly nod off to sleep. “ goodnight y/n” he says before placing a soft kiss on my shoulder . My heart flutter at the gesture.

I fall asleep with the biggest smile in my face.

(Sorry yallll I know this shit took me forever to get out . I’ve had the busiest couple weeks and haven’t had time to sit and write . )

🫶🏼🧡

[previousloversandmuses]

FREQUENCY: Episode 6 - A Soldier Boy Story

FREQUENCY:  A Soldier Boy Story

EPISODE 6: “You Make Me Feel So Young”

WORD COUNT: 7736 (sorry)

PAIRING: Soldier Boy X Reader 

WARNINGS: (NSFW) Foul language. Offensive slurs. Violence, depression, and mentions of suicide. Slow burn. Drinking, and drugs. 

A/N: This story is dark, and covers mature themes. The main character, as well as other major characters, are offensive in nature, and may offend some people. Please peruse with caution, and remember that this is fiction. Reader discretion is advised. Please message me for any questions, comments, or concerns. 

Masterlist | Taglist 

Everything was exactly where she usually would have left it. Hm, he thinks. Totally stumped. She’s never gone this long without telling him. Her apartment, vacant and cold, hadn't seen her around for about a month, and neither had he. Not since the last time she had come over, at least. 

He stalks around her place. Taking a peep into the fridge, only to be greeted by the smell of spoiled milk. He grimaces, shutting it so hard the door comes off of its hinges. Fuck. He leans it back up against the body of the refrigerator, not really bothering to fix it. Maybe she wouldn’t notice? 

He takes note of her bedroom. Her worn laundry is still in the hamper, including that little get up she had on the last time she came to see him. He reaches down into it, grabbing onto the black lace underwear, and taking a deep whiff. Still smells like her, which surprisingly brings him little comfort. He knew she did her laundry every day, or else the smell alone would drive her close to insane.

He rummages through her drawers, observing that almost all of her undergarments are gone. She’s also missing shorts, flannels, and her hiking shoes. Okay, he thinks, perhaps she’s just gone home for an extended period of time. Perhaps she is angry with him because of his reaction to her most recent proposition. Lord knows when she’d be back. But he knew he could always check. 

Leaving her apartment, her black lace underwear stuffed into the sleeve of his supesuit, he knocks on her neighbors door. He knows they are home, he can hear them. An older woman answers, her eyes wide, mouth dropped. 

“Good evening, ma’am, I was wondering if-“ She passes out before she can answer. 

Great. 

He knocks on the other neighbor's door. He stomps his foot with impatience. His lips formed into a tight line. He crosses his arms over his chest and swallows his irritation with feigned patriotism. 

“Hello Sir, would you mind if I asked you a quick question?”

The man stammers, completely dumbfounded.

“Wow! Homelander, what a wonderful surprise,” He turns to look over his shoulder. “Honey, come look! Homelander is here!”

John rolls his eyes, only to resume his pleasant expression once the imbecile turns back to meet his gaze. 

“What can we do for you, Sir?” The idiot asks. 

“Well, I actually had a question about your neighbor.”

“Which one?” The man beams, a goofy grin on his face. His wife joins him at the door. 

“My God! Homelander! To what do we owe the pleasure?”

Homelander smiles back at her, nodding his head. His irritation becomes a lot more difficult to hide. 

“Yes ma’am. I was actually asking your husband here a few questions about your neighbor.”

“Who, Old Emma?” The woman asks. “She’s demented. Whatever she did, we had nothing to do with it.”

He raises an eyebrow at them, shaking his head. 

“Uh…no, no, not the old—I was asking about your young neighbor. Apartment D.”

“Ohhhh,” They both say simultaneously. The woman slapping her head, showing her idiocy. “Well, we don’t hear much from her, right Steve?”

The man looks at his wife, nodding, turning back to John. 

“She in some kind of trouble? Not one of those supe terrorists, is she?”

“No, no, God no.”

“Is everything alright? Anything we should be worried about?”

“No, just curious about the last time you saw her.”

The couple turn to each other, scratching their heads. Visibly searching their brain for some sort of answer. 

“Maybe a few weeks ago? She’s quiet. It’s not out of the ordinary. She usually comes and goes late at night anyway.”

John sighs, nodding to them. 

“Alright, thanks anyway. Sorry for bothering you two. Stay safe out there, okay?”

As he begins to walk away, Steve, the husband, calls after him.

“Hey homelander!” John turns back to them, a flicker of hope in his eyes. “Do you mind if we get a picture?”

Kill me now. He thinks. 

“No, not at all!” He walks up to the two of them with open arms. 

The two of them eat dinner every night together for a few weeks. He comes home from a long day of work, which again, he chose to do willingly. Something she still thinks is a feat in itself. He slips off his boots, and lays down on the couch. He’ll turn the TV on and flip to whatever channel is showing reruns of M.A.S.H. Although he does happen to enjoy Two And a Half Men, he was good friends with Charlie Sheen's father back in the day.

Last Tuesday she had borrowed one of Amas cookbooks, deciding on a southern style pot roast. Didn’t look too hard. You just stuff everything into a crockpot, wait eight hours, and call it a night. 

By the time he got home the house smelled heavenly, and had been obsessively deep cleaned by the freak herself. He had noticed during their time together that she had to deep clean every few days, otherwise it’d drive her up a wall, and she’d start acting like a deranged mental case. Although regular, established, modern people would just refer to it as irritability. He will never not call her out for it, no matter how many times she tells him that upsets her. 

Because of this interaction, his enjoyment of smelling whatever she had cooking for him would usually be cut short, ending in some ridiculous, twenty minute bicker. The two of them are equally hard-headed, and would never admit they were wrong. At this point they both give up, and begin to eat in silence, on the couch, side by side, watching some sort of movie. Finally beginning to talk normally from some obscene observation on his part. She’d never say it, but times like that she did find him funny. 

He was crass, and gross, and condescending, and simply everything she thought she’d hate in another human being. But, unfortunately, there was a part of her that found it charming. And come present day, she realized she might be sad the day he doesn’t come home to bother her. She’d been by herself for so long, the idea of even any sort of companion drove her crazy. But she had gotten used to this. And his nightmares had gotten at least a little better to the point where she could fall asleep without headphones, and lie back, being soothed to the sound of his steady heart beat. 

All that is short lived when she wakes up to a screech, or a shout--or something. Either way she knows it's him. 

Typically, in this situation, or what she’s done so far to cope, is turn on “Swan Lake” on her headphones. She cranks it up, rolling her eyes, and flipping over on her side. Facing away from his side of the house. But tonight, after a particularly heated conversation about the Star Wars Prequels, she can't help but feel a tinge of guilt.

She lies awake, staring at the ceiling, her box fan only doing so much to conceal his soft whimpers of misery. She gnaws on her lip, her heart aching with a sudden remorse for the oh-so-broken man that lies tortured by his own sleep. When was the last time he slept a full night? She thinks. When was the last time he woke up feeling rested? She knows he's strong as steel, and biologically augmented. He probably didn’t even really need the sleep. But mental anguish? Cognitive health? She knew from her own experience that can take a toll on even the strongest of Supes. Take John, for example, even he was a loose cannon for Christ's Sake!

She sighs, standing up, and making her way into the living room. It’s at least worth a try. She didn’t even really know what to try. She was never one for comfort, even with the likes of John. Hell, she didn't even know how to expect people to comfort her! 

He lies on the pull out bed, resting on his side. Small, innocent, puffs of air fall from his lips. He almost looks sweet like this. Like a little boy, so wholesome and demure. She's sure that won't last long when he wakes up. With this man's amount of pride, she's sure he'd have her in a chokehold for even thinking consoling him was a good idea. 

She softly sits to the left on him, making sure to not create too much noise. Did he wake up to stuff like this? Could he sense her presence or maybe he's well equipped to military style combat even when half asleep? She definitely wasn’t willing to find out. 

Another round of his wimpers start up again. She looks around awkwardly,  unsure how to go about this situation. She reaches her hand down, it hovers over his damp forehead. He’s going to snap my wrist, she thinks, grimacing. She bites her lip in preparation. Anything to get this wild, uninhibited man to have a full night's sleep. Shit, anything to get her to have a full night's sleep!

Fuck it. 

She begins cascading her stiff hand through his wet hair. She's moving like she doesn't have control of her arms. I look disabled, she thinks, shaking her head. It was a funny sight. If she were to tell someone she had cerebral palsy, she’s sure they'd believe it. She snorts at that. What an awful thing to think. She had definitely been hanging around him too much. 

He shifts over onto his back in his slumber, her hand moving away from him quickly. She eyeballs him to make sure he's not awake. His little breaths continue to puff away. She sighs in relief. She watches as he stiffens up, his whimpers bubbling from his throat again. Her eyes widen. She drops her hand back down to his scalp and begins to scrape her fingers through it. He starts to calm down. Like magic, she thinks. She shuts her eyes for a moment, suddenly desperate to feel any sort of electrical current dancing around underneath the top layer of his skull. And she does. It lights like a wildfire as his nightmare begins to calm down--

That is, until he nearly breaks her wrist, of course. He's up with a jolt, as he wraps his hand around her delicate, unaltered bones.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He demands, her eyes going wide.

She tries pulling her arm out of his vice grip, her bones creaking under the strength of his fingers. 

“You were having a nightmare,” She argues, slightly embarrassed. “I was trying to help.”

He laughs at her, dropping her arm into her lap. He stands up, separating himself from her.

“Only little boys have nightmares, and last time I fuckin’ checked, I’m a grown man.”

“You have kept me up every night for a week now.”

“What happened to your phoneheads?” He demands. “Those keep you from hearing things.”

She rolls her eyes at him. Hearing things. Whatever gets you to sleep at night, pal. Which was, obviously, nothing. 

“They are uncomfortable.”

“Yeah? Well, I’m uncomfortable when you come and caress me in my sleep-” He stops himself, thinking about that statement for a second. Well, maybe not that kind of caressing.  

“You’re perverted.” She already knows exactly what he's thinking.

“And you don't listen. How many times do I have to tell you I dont have fuckin’ shell shock?”

She shrugs, “You’re gonna have to keep telling me, because thirty years of captivity seems like it’d do a lot to a guy.”

“Yeah, well, maybe to one of those pussy desert storm vets. Those are the ones who were left fucking half-retarded.”

She stands up, scoffing, brushing past him, and walking back into her room.

“You liked it,” She states. “It shut you right up.”

He stares at her.

“But okay, tough guy, I won't do it again.”

He looks down at his feet, kicking at the floor. “Good, glad we're on the same page.” He says.

She closes the door on him. 

John has been sitting in Vought Security for the past four hours trying to find any surveillance he could of her quiet escape. He just wanted to make sure she really did go home. That she wasn’t flaking out on him. That she wasn’t abandoning him. Not that he cared or anything…

“Doesn’t she have a tendency to take out security cameras?” The young intern asks. 

He had stolen her from her minor duties as a security assistant. She wasn’t even sure what she was doing.

“Yes, but don’t you think we’d at least see her take them out?”

“Yes Sir, but if she left, then I’m sure we would have seen her leave by now.”

“Don’t question me. Filter through the next hour, I’m sure we’re almost there.” He breathes down her neck as he hunches over, getting himself closer to the screen to see.

And anyone could have missed it, but he didn’t. There goes her shitty old car, flashing past the screen.

“There,” He shouts. “Go back, pause it.”

The young girl sighs, rewinding the footage, and stopping on the blurry still of the car.

“There she is,” He smiles, “Now where the fuck are you headed?”

The two of them sit there for another hour as they watch her car travel from camera to camera across the city. That is until she reaches a big dumpster behind some shitty supermarket on the outskirts of Queens.

The camera on the lamp post that recorded this had to be at least twenty years old. It looks like it had been filmed on a fucking microwave.

“Is there any way we can make this image clearer?” He asks, gesturing to the screen.

The young intern shrugs, pressing some buttons, and filtering out at least a little bit of the grain.

“It’s not much better,” She sighs.

He pats her shoulder, she goes stiff, ready for this loose cannon to fire any second.

“This works.” He states, yanking her out of the seat and taking her place.

He gets obnoxiously close to the screen, squinting his eyes, and watches as Freak throws something into the trash can.

“Is that a body?” The intern gasps in horror.

John rolls his eyes, “No, it's not a fucking body.”

He begins to rub at his chin, “...At least, I don’t think so…”

The girl reaches over his shoulder, clicking a few buttons, then walks over to the printer and hands him the location.

“This is where this camera is located. I doubt whatever she threw out is still in there, but it's worth a try, I guess.”

“Wow, thank you so much for your input that I definitely did not ask for.”

Deadpan. The girl would rather him put her out of her misery by this point. They stare each other down pathetically for a moment, before he shoos her away to go about the rest of her day. 

He waits for the young girl to leave. Sighing as he turns back to the screen, he watches as Freak hops back in her car and drives off. He keeps the speed of the footage up, and only a few seconds later does he spot a homeless man walking over to the dumpster. He pauses the video quickly, putting it back into real time. The homeless man looks around suspiciously, before launching himself over the side of the dumpster.

John is at the edge of his seat. Please, Christ. He thinks. He begs. Anything that will get him on her trail. 

After a few minutes, the homeless man pops his head back out. He hops back onto the ground, something shiny under his arm. Maybe a laptop, he thinks. He follows the man on nearby security cameras until he reaches a pawn shop. The man is in there for a good five minutes before he walks back out, envelope in hand. He immediately walks next door and into the liquor store. Typical.

This is worth a try, John thinks. Although, this was recorded over a month ago. Even if it was sold, he's sure they wouldn't mind giving him the information on who bought it. I mean, he is the Homelander for Christ's sake. 

With that in mind, and location of the pawn shop in hand, he makes his way out of Vought Security, and then launches himself out of the tower. He’d find her. Even if it was the last thing he’d do.

They didn’t talk for two days after the nightmare fiasco. He’d come home to a dark house. She was either asleep, or hanging out with Ama until late. She never told her what really happened, just that his senile ass was getting on her nerves. 

All the young adults on the res had plans to go out on friday night. He didn’t really know what that meant. Partying wasn’t like it used to be, and he isn’t sure if he would even like to party at all. 

“You coming tonight?” Asher asks, taking a drag off a cigarette.

He and Ben lean up against a brick wall outside of the diner that they all frequent for lunch. 

“What’s it we’re doing exactly?” Ben asks, pulling a cigarette out of his pack and up to his lips.

“It's like a bar honkey-tonk.”

“A honkey tonk?” Ben grimaces.

“It ain’t too bad, they barely play any country, either. Usually old classics, disco, that kind of thing.” Asher adds.

“Old classics…what the hell does that even mean?”

Asher laughs. Ama and Freak had ended up telling the rest of the young people on the res about Ben. Who he was. Why she broke him out. What the plan would be come summer.

A lot of them were hesitant at first, and for good reason. The Soldier Boy they knew had not necessarily been too kind to them. He understood their resistance for acceptance. Hell, he didn't even really want to be talking to these people anyway. The further they stay away, the better. But, of course, that wasn’t how it seemed to work. Everyone had been harassing him about stories from the past. Hell, he was once the most famous man in the world at the time. 

“Old classics…80’s and under.”

“80’s and under?” Ben gapes. “Spare me.”

“Your version of old music is what…Beethoven live?”

Ben shakes his head, laughing.

“Fuck you,” He drags from his smoke. “So old music, drinking, and dancing?”

“Think you can handle that, old man?” 

“We’ll see.”

Asher finishes his cigarette, dropping it to the ground, and crushing it with his foot.

“There will be some girls there too, I’m sure. Plenty for you to choose from.”

With Ama and Freaks' admission about who Ben really was, also came everyone knowing that the two of them weren’t really together. He didn’t mind…Or, at least he didn’t think so. A few days after they let everyone know, Ben watched one of Ama’s brothers pull Freak off to the side of the outdoor pavilion. He rested his arm above her head and looked down at her with a glowing admiration. Soft, big puppy dog eyes, doing what they do best. A look she seemed to send right back to him in return. She had never looked at him like that.

Did he even want her to? He swallowed that feeling down before he let himself answer. 

“I’m a little rusty. I’ll come out for a little while and then turn in.” Ben sighs, still smoking on his cigarette.

“Your choice.” Asher shrugs, beginning to walk back inside the diner.

In theory it would probably be best for Ben's mental health to at least try to stay out later. Be social. Did he have to talk to women? No. These were baby steps. He could stay out, drink with the few friends he’s made, and listen to songs that made him feel comfortable. Think back to the good times. Hell, he might even get to see Freak let loose. 

“...Christ on a cross…” He lets out a heavy groan. He had almost forgotten about what happened a few nights ago. There's no way she’d be going out, he thinks. And even if she did, she sure as hell wouldn’t get anywhere near him. 

He felt bad for his reaction to her sweet gesture. How it was purely innocent, and kind. Something he rarely saw from her. She wasn’t cold-- well, not really. It was more like the idea of letting herself become comfortable with someone was, shocker, uncomfortable. His response to the situation ended up making him look weaker than what he was afraid of. He was acting like a little boy terrified of catching cooties.

He had always considered himself to be an open book, because to him there wasn’t much to be open about. He didn’t have any feelings that weren’t manly, and if he did, they were suppressed by bouts of irrational anger and rage. Reactions which he's sure led to his existence as a lab rat for thirty years. 

He was cold to all of Payback, especially Noir, who was always agreeable and pure. And even to Countess, who he claims he loved. No man would ever treat a woman they cared about that deeply with such discontent and hatred. He acted like she made him sick. He’s sure he had even slapped her around a few times. But he was so arrogant, and she wasn’t built like regular women. He thought she could take it. She was strong. She needed that treatment. She needed that to be stronger. 

In reality, his behavior all led him right back to his father. To his silver spoon childhood. His father, who was a disgrace. His father, who was unfair and disgustingly evil. His father, who was everything he turned out to be. Ben's personality was purely the result of mistreatment. Of parental negligence. Of deep rooted insecurity. Worst part is, he knows that now. He's been having to live with it. He’s been having to deal with these weird, foreign, repressed emotions. Ones that bubble to the surface as a short temper that's taken out on another broken human being who doesn’t deserve it. 

He remembers dinner with her about a week ago. She was freshly showered so her hair was dripping wet, making a little puddle on the floor. The back of her shirt damp, and sticking to her skin. She was ridiculously shiny, which was the result of some face mask from the nearby pharmacy. It smelled like blueberries, and he’s sure she could tell. Most definitely an overpowering mixer with their steaming plate of macaroni and cheese. She grimaced as she took a bite. 

“You put a lot of effort into yourself for a girl who’s so set on dying.” He says, breaking the silence. He had been refering to her planned suicide mission in the coming weeks. 

She widened her eyes at him, setting her fork down, and reaching over to take a sip of her water. She had been exhausted that day. There had been a big music festival thirty miles down in one of the valleys. That's all she had heard and felt for the past twelve hours. A little self care is what she needed. Anything to treat her pounding headache, and sore muscles. 

“I would've done it a long time ago if I wasn’t so set on revenge.” She stated, rubbing the sides of her temples with her fingers. 

He shakes his head, putting his fork down.

“You can’t let these people have such power over you.” He argued.

“I’m too tired to have this conversation right now.” She sighs.

She pokes around her plate with her fork, resting one side of her head on her hand. He watches her as she mopes.

“Y’know, sometimes people in my blast zones don’t even die they just…end up losing whatever fucked up thing the V did to their DNA.” He tries to act nonchalant about it.

She looked up at him. It was a sweet gesture, she thought. He obviously didn’t think she was worthy of dying. Worthy of throwing her entire tortured life away. He was willing to help her find an alternative to her suffering. The question was whether or not she was willing to do that. And at this point, she didn't think so. 

“Ben, it’s a nice gesture, really.” She smiles weakly.

She had always thought she was one of those people who were born to die. Like her whole purpose in life was death. That her existence had a deeper meaning, and that she wouldn't die in vain. She’d die in sacrifice. In the way she wanted to. She thought it was beautiful that she would be the final factor in her demise. That cancer, or John, or Vought, or an atomic bomb--any outside source wouldn’t have the ability to take control of her ultimate cessation. 

“We can keep you at a close distance so you wouldn't get hurt. It’d be quick, and you wouldn’t have to worry about shit like today anymore.” He sounded excited almost.

“This thing that V gave me, I hate it,” She starts. “But I wouldn’t know how to live without it, either.”

He nodded along. That he understands. 

“Like today for example; the ground is shaking, I feel it everywhere. It gives me a headache, raises my blood pressure. And the sound, the fact I can hear the bass from thirty miles away. I mean, to say my ears are ringing is an understatement. But, at the same time, the way I experience music is an incredible gift. I can hear chords and choruses and notes and keys--things machines couldn’t even be able to pick up…Without this curse, I would be just an empty shell. I wouldn't know how to live. So I guess, maybe the real curse, is just continuing to exist, compound V or not.”

By the time John gets to the pawn shop it had already been closed for thirty minutes. He lands just as the shopkeeper is locking up for the night. The man’s coat flies up from the force of John's arrival. He jumps in response. He turns to face him, John already putting on a shit eating, manufactured smile. The man freezes, dropping all of his belongings on the ground.

“How are you this beautiful evening, Sir?” It had been raining all day.

The man stammers, searching for some sort of coherent response. John grits his teeth. Deep breaths. He goes out of his way to continue the conversation. 

“I’m looking for something that may have come through in your shop, do you mind if I have a look?”

“I-I-I…”Almost there, it’s nearly out. “I’ve just closed up for the night Sir, can this not wait until m-morning?”

Sorry--wait until morning? Does this absolute fucking imbecile retarded fucking moron not understand who hes talking to? John stalks up closer to him, the shopkeeper trembling enough to drop his keys onto the ground. John watches them as they fall, only to turn back up to the man.

“You gonna pick those up?” John asks, cornering him.

“Uh, y-yes sir.” The man stutters, squatting down and picking up his keys. 

“Good job,” John praises. “Now, are you going to unlock this door and let me inside or am I going to have to force my way in myself?”

The man audibly swallows, turning back to the knob and unlocking the door with an old, rusted key. When the door opens John is hit with a waft of moth balls, old cigarettes, and dust. God this place was a slum. Who the hell would buy anything from there and expect it to be any quality higher than dog shit?

“Are you looking for anything in particular, Sir?”

John scans the room. There is furniture; some old and ripped, some newer and draped in red velvet. There is a section for jewelry, he's sure none of it is real. There is silver, china, guns, knives, japanese art, again, definitely not real.

“Do you have any electronics?”

The man gestures down in front of him. There is a glassed case that houses a few flip phones, a handful of Blackberry’s, some walkie talkies, and, Ah, laptops.

“We actually just got in a few new flip phones, Sir,” The man leans in closer, looking around, speaking under his breath. “Including a first generation keypad Nokia.”

John snorts, shaking his head. Unbelievable. 

“I’m actually looking for a laptop.”

The man takes a deep breath, “Aw man, we just sold our last one today. Microsoft Windows I think.”

John feels himself getting agitated. He’s sure he can no longer hide the look of discontent on his face. 

“So, no apple computers then?” 

“N-no, unfortunately not, sir.” The man swallows hard again.

John takes note of his blood pressure. One-eighty over ninety. He must be hiding something. He begins to laugh at the man.

“What was your name?” John asks.

“A-Akash.” He stutters, his palms beginning to sweat.

John could smell it.

“Okay, Akash,” John leans in closer, grabbing him by the collar. “I know an apple computer came through here a few weeks ago. And I’m gonna assume by the pounding of your heart rate that you bought it off of some homeless guy for thirty dollars and some change.”

Akash nods, beads of perspiration forming at the top of his hairline. 

“And I’m gonna bet that since you got such a good deal on a new, nice laptop, that you decided you were gonna keep it yourself. Is that right?”

Akash squeaks something, but John can hardly understand him due to his crushing vice grip.

“Sorry, what was that?” John says, pulling Akash up closer to his face, his feet hovering off the ground.

“Y-yes!” Akash cries, “P-please, Homelander, I have a family at home. Take whatever you want!”

“Where's the laptop?” He asks.

The man points down to his briefcase.

She stands in the kitchen, doing her makeup in the reflection of the microwave. She likes the natural lighting. She turns around, reaching to grab the controller, and turning the TV on. The New York news station is reporting about some Pawn Shop that caught on fire. Good, she thinks. As long as it has nothing to do with Ben. She's relieved to know that the two of them continue to be white noise. 

And ugh, speaking of Ben, she prays he won't be going out tonight. Maybe he’ll continue to be antisocial and isolate himself at home, watching reruns of “Happy Days”, and snorting mountains of benzos. She's tired of getting them for him. 

After she finishes up on her mascara, she walks back into her room and slips on her dress for the evening. It's black, tight, vintage Guess. She had gotten it from the consignment store the other day. Everyone had planned on going to dinner first, but most of the guys had a long day. They would rather go home and relax, and then go back out later in the evening. The club had alright bar food anyway. Well, at least from what she can remember. 

Smoothing out the edges of her dress with delicate hands, she sits back down on her bed, and turns on the TV. Waiting for when everyone was ready to go out. She’d rather be ready early than having to scramble during an already stressful evening. She hadn’t gone out in ages. 

As she settles back onto the pillow, she hears the front door creak open. She goes still, hoping he won't come in to bother her. He doesn’t, just goes to hop right into the shower. He must be going out then, she thinks. And if he is, there is absolutely no way he's leaving after her. She will be fashionably late. He can happily go early and hopefully turn in before midnight like the old man he is. Anything to guarantee avoiding an unwanted interaction. 

She's still and silent as she listens to him get ready. Her TV on mute. Her face heats up as she hears the familiar zipper of his jeans. She had gotten used to hearing that everyday. He clears his throat, keys jingling as he shoves them into his pocket. The clock on the wall now read 9:03. People would slowly start to turn up at the bar. 

Suddenly his phone rings, the one that she got him from Wamart. It was a cheap flip phone that had minutes. He still didn’t understand how any grown man is ever able to type on the tiny little keypad. His whole fingertip takes up half the screen.

“Yeah?” He answers, opening the front door and walking outside. It was Asher. “I’m leaving now…No, I don’t know if she's coming…Well tell Ama to call her that’s not my fuckin problem.”

She hears Tough Guy’s big ass truck pull up outside of the house. It growls as it comes to a quick stop on the gravel drive. He hops in, hanging up the phone as he does so. 

Thats not my fuckin problem. What an asshole. 

She bolts up after that phone exchange. Her skin was hot. She was embarrassed. Why the hell is he acting like this whole situation was her fault? All she was doing was trying to help him! She stomps over to the floor mirror, reaching for the ties on the back of her dress. She pulls it tight so her waist cinches in significantly. She reaches over to her makeup bag again, adding a load of eyeliner and an even thicker layer of mascara. Popping off the lid to her perfume, she drenches herself in it, making sure to get all of the parts any man would love to smell. The places that catch in the wind, only to make their breaths catch in their throats. 

What was this going to do for her? What sort of gratification was she wanting here? Is this her way of getting back at him for being a piece of shit? By acting like a slut and taunting him with something he couldn't have? Maybe. She’s sure it might work. She’s sure it would do something. Even if he didnt feel that way about her. The fact that she was letting loose and having so much fun without him. 

But what if this made him angry? What if this backfires and he blows the whole place to the fucking ground with everyone still in it? Or worse, what if he decided to back out? He says “fuck you, and fuck the family,” and leaves in a cloud of dust? She’d really be fucked then. Well, her rational brain wasn't thinking tonight anyway. She grabs her keys off the console and says fuck it. 

The car ride there was hot, and sweaty. Tough Guys AC in his car had stopped working and he was too tired to fix it. Although he must've been 200 more pounds than Ben, he wasn’t blessed with the likes of Compound V. That shit made him a human heater. They had the windows rolled down, which made everyones hair look fucking crazy.

Once they make it to the bar, all the guys hop out of the car. The place is buzzing with people. All different ethnicities too, which surprised him to say the least. You’d think the rednecks would've ran these people out of town by this point, he thinks. One thing everyone had in common though, almost all of them were wearing cowboy boots. Ben felt significantly out of place, and not just because he was a century older. 

The inside of the club is blasting “Stayin’ Alive” by the Bee Gees when they walk in. Okay, he could get behind that. In the center of the dance floor is a good amount of people, mostly couples or groups of girls. Some of the couples were grinding up and down on each other. It was inappropriate beyond gross proportions. I mean, some of these girls were literally rubbing themselves on these guys' thighs. The older crowd, anywhere between 40 and 70, stood by the bar, watching the dance floor. A lot of them were grimacing, although slightly amused by the ridiculous display of affection. Feeling the same way about it that Ben was. There were high top tables over there, one of them just freeing up as they headed over. The four of them wrap around the table, looking around for their friends. 

“I’ll go look for the other guys.” Tough Guy says, they all nod at him.

Asher looks around, craning his neck, searching for his girlfriend. 

“Ah, there she is,” He says. “Just in time.”

The music changes in the club “Who’s That Lady” By The Isley Brothers coming on. Ben turns his head to follow Asher. Ama and the rest of the girls begin to walk in the door. Perfect timing for this song, he thinks--And then his breath catches in his throat.

She walks in behind the rest of them, sticking out like a sore thumb. Girls like her beelong on the silver screen. They belong in films. On the cover of magazines. In art museums hanging up on a wall surrounded by a sea of onlookers taking her picture. She is it. She is money. She is light. She is so radiant in that tight, black dress he thinks the whole place quiets down when she walks in. Okay, he was not expecting that. 

The herd of girls say hello to him as they walk up to the bar. He nods, not paying attention. His eyes glued to the sight across the room. Adohi, the guy that had her up against the pavilion the other day, saunters towards her, two drinks in his hand. He passes her one, she accepts it happily, leaning in to give him a hug. 

“I'm surprised you could make it!” He yells over the music, she grimaces.

What an idiot, he thinks. Who the hell would forget that about her?

“Sorry,” Adohi says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m just surprised you can even handle the music.”

She smiles at him, gesturing towards a pair of earplugs. She knew they didn't do much. But, those plus the gifts of alcohol made it much easier for her to tolerate. Once she got drunk enough her body would end up feeding on the sensation of the bass through the floor. She downs the drink quickly at the realization. Then starts sauntering over to the bar. 

She catches him in her peripheral, not daring to look at him. She knew where he was sitting the moment they pulled up. His heartbeat was so unique, it was easy to spot even from a mile away. 

“Freak,” He calls. Fuck. She wasn’t expecting that.

She looks over her shoulder quickly, not stopping her pursuit towards the bar.

“Hey,” She says, sounding completely uninterested. She said it in a way that you talk to someone whose name you don't remember. She is ice cold. Leaving him frowning on the chair.

Ouch, he thinks. This was going to be harder than he thought. Good thing he's persistent.

Throughout the span of the next few hours the both of them had their fair share of drinks. Ben was buzzed, and so was she. Not to the point where the two of them were incapacitated, but enough so the room was brighter, and they were significantly happier than they were the moment they walked in.

The two of them stood at opposite ends of the club all night. Both stealing glances, pretending that they didn’t catch the other one looking. She made it obvious she was putting on a show. Dancing with Adohi provocatively when any sensual songs came on. Ben gave up on moving slowly with women about an hour ago. After she had her first dance with Adohi. Currently, Ben sits at the bar leaned into a woman's ear. He has her howling with laughter, his hand resting on the small of her back. 

Ama and Asher watch from the entrance of the club after going outside for a smoke break. You could cut the tension in the room with a knife. It was embarrassing, and immature, to say the least. These were two grown adults acting like petty teenagers to get back at each other for the sake of their own pride. They had had enough. 

Ama stomps over to Freak, who was currently grinding on Adohi on the dance floor. She was flushed and sweaty, her hair poofed up from the humidity within the club. 

Ama grabs her arm, “Mind if I steal her for a minute?” She asks.

Freak gives her a what the fuck look, as Ama drags her off to the bathroom.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to go alone.” She says, blatantly lying.

“Couldn’t you tell I was in the middle of something?” She asks as the two of them walk through the bathroom door. 

“Yeah, exactly why I pulled you out of it.” Ama pulls them into a bathroom stall. It's small enough where their feet are on top of each other.

“I was having a good time.” Freak argues.

“Adohi is three years younger than you and has a heart murmur, there is no way you are dancing with him because you want to.”

“I am so.” She crosses her arms over her chest.

“You are not,” Ama argues, looking down at the time on her phone. “Okay, one second.”

Ama reaches up and ruffles Freaks hair. Making it sexier, messier, voluminous. Then she takes her thumbs and drags them under her eyes, wiping away the running mascara.

“Didn’t your mom ever teach you about waterproof?” Ama teases.

“I don't have a mom.” Says Freak plainly.

Right, Ama thinks. She then reaches to unlock the bathroom door and pulls them back out.

“Hey, I thought you had to go to the bathroom!”

Ama drags them both out onto the dancefloor, the familiar intro of “How Deep Is Your Love” beginning to play from the speaker.

“It, uh, went away?” Ama says, looking around for Asher.

He sees him coming towards her, and just as Barry Gibb begins to start singing, Ama pushes Freak into Asher, who pushes Ben into her. The two of them running into each other. Out of habit, Ben wrapped his hand around her back to steady her. Having no idea who it was at first. They both stare at each other for a minute, not knowing what to say. It would be too immature and awkward if the other decided to just storm off, leaving the other one alone.

Looking around, all the other couples slowly start to slow dance with each other. A new one coming off of the side lines and onto the floor every few seconds. Freak eyeballs him, then slowly lifts up her arms and onto his shoulders. Not looking him in the eye. In fact, she looks everywhere but him. The ceiling was interesting this evening.

He rolls his eyes at her. He was so sick of her acting like a little teenage girl. Although, he thinks he's no better. The two of them dance in silence until the song is almost over. 

“I’m sorry,” He says suddenly, breaking the tension. “I’m sorry for all of it.”

She blinks at him, tilting her head to the side. She wasn’t expecting that to come from him so easily. 

“I was just- It was- I haven’t…” He trips over his tongue trying to find the right words to say. 

He takes a deep breath, looking her in her eyes. 

The song switches to “You Make Me Feel So Young” By Frank Sinatra. They usually played Frank this time of night before the older couples decided to turn in.

“I’m an asshole, and I’ve always been an asshole. And I know that now and I’m trying to be kinder and to adapt but I don’t know what to do or what to say or how to even exist…” He trails off, looking over to the side of the club.

“I get it,” She says, smiling softly. He turns back to her as she continues “I have a hard time feeling like a real person too.”

He looks down at her outfit, his voice getting quieter, his eyes becoming heavy.

You make me feel so young

You make me feel there are songs to be sung

Bells to be rung

And a wonderful fling to be flung

“You look so beautiful.” He says.

“Thank you,” She says, her eyes watering, her throat dry.

She doesn’t think anyone has ever said that to her in her life.

He thinks he's never said it and meant it before in his whole life. Not until now. This was the first time in his life he's ever felt it. The first time in a hundred years. When he looked into the eyes of someone and had the answers to every question he’s ever asked. 

And even when I'm old and gray

I'm gonna feel the way I do today

'Cause you make me feel so young

“I’m sorry,” He starts, resting his forehead on hers. “This is the closest to home I’ve ever felt. I’m such an asshole.”

She looks up into his eyes with a misty glimmer, a devious gaze. One that holds the whole world within it. A soul pouring out into another. And he caught all of it in the palm of his hands.

She leans up and places a gentle kiss on his lips. He’s reluctant at first, but slowly begins to smile into it.

This felt like home.

Masterlist | Taglist | Episode 7

Taglist: @sl33pylilbunny @Lanassmarty @Sydneyyyya @1-800shootmeplease@muhahaha303@nancymcl@speedyrebelfan@ghh05ttt@agentorange9595@let-me-luve-you @peachytits @darkdahl @deans-spinster-witch @soggybasementfries @ladysparkles78 @madamthemoo @lyarr24@sadlittlecountess @mickaelly007 @mrscountryclub @vtheoneandonly @decadentanchorwerewolf @wonderland2022@buckybarnes-1917@rebeccathefangirl@daisy-the-quake @tiredbibi @greyish-wallpaper@previousloversandmuses@is-this-a-febreze-commercial@justrealizedimmascifygurl@broimamy@freewastelandstrawberry@breadsgalore@savagemickey03@franblaq6466@lustendreams@atinylittlebee @VtheOneandOnly

[tanzytechgem]

ok. dream text edition time

the number 5673 was important. there was a boy, around 7 years old, white, blueish-brown eyes and brown hair, wearing a blue jacket. nobody knew where his parents was, but he was in some sort of… big town? very lavist and decorated, with a golden arch for the entrance. there were lots of other kids there, but there were very few if no adults, except for one, a guy that seemed to be santa. he was bald, and didn't really wear the regular santa 'costume', rather wearing a blue short and denim pants. he was pretty nice. he talked about monkies and bananas a few times, and mentioned how you could give your banana peel to them to eat, "give the monkies your leftovers so they can eat it and crunch it". but later the boy did something? so he had to flee from the town, and everything outisde of a 500m radius from the town was freezing winter cold with snow and ice everywhere. *

the boy ran and ran, until he came across a sort of tent-like things, made out of small interwoven spruce and dark oak branches, with triangular glass being kept together by the branches. there was lady, piercing blue eyes and blonde hair. something about her was… weird. she was wearing a simple yet elegant thin dress [presumably with undergarments], despite all the cold around her - and her gaze was making him uneasy. she invited the boy in and he took refuge, later learning there was a sort of camp nearby that he was lead to, with what seemed like teenagers, around age 16-19.

the boy's 16 now, and has learned he has magic. the lady says something to him and he realises she's the ice queen. of course she is. it was obvious from the start but he didn't notice it until now. he starts shaping weird crystal daggers out of ice, and throwing them with telekinesis at the ice queen, until the other people there also start fighting him so he has to stab them with them too. he defends himself and gets hit in the head with one of his own ice-crystal-daggers, but keeps going. there's blood everywhere in the snow, but eventually he gets away and runs. there's no looking back now, he just runs. some follow him, but not to fight him. they follow him because they don't want to be there anymore either. he's made a few friends it seems.

they travel for a long while. at some point i'm there, and we're travelling across islands. there's palm trees and thin oak and birch trees. the sand on the outer edges of the islands is rather went and uncomfortable to walk in. i point out a cloud that looks like a bear [and i'd be damned if i didn't, that was straight up a realistic bear made by a cloud. black nose and eyes and all], but the clouds seem to move extremely quick, so even if i point at it its gone in under 5 seconds, and only 2 other people see it. i look out at the horizon and see just how quickly the clouds are moving. there's something weird about it, but i don't comment on it. the group moves forward, until we reach an island, where one side of it is cold - not extremely 'im shivering because of how cold it is', think a cold spring breeze, and the other is warm. think summer warmth. it's a very notable difference and we mess around with it a bit until we continue on.

then a man in a yellow water scooter(? i do not know what its called. it looked like a sort of small yellow kayak but it had a motor and could go very fast) drives up to us and i, and the boy, recognise him as santa. he's offering us a ride to go to the town, and we all accept the invitation and are driven there. a short while after, the boy, now 19, walks around in the building santa lives in. he spots a painting, one of the sea and an island, striated clouds abound in the sky above as a wave splashes against the shore. above it is the number 5673. the boy spots santa, laying on those hospital beds they move you around in, right by a window with the curtains up. he uses his magic to pull the curtains down for the sun to shine through. santa looks like he's in a rough state, and he is. he's practically dying. he moves to the room that used to be his office, now with another hospital bed there. he speaks with the boy and then he slowly passes away.

then there's a cut, and we're back on the islands, an hour or so before santa would offer a ride. one of us have a weird feeling about this, and shapeshift into santa and the boat to ride us to santa, and he's alive for longer. the boy gets to talk with him a bit more before he dies. the same painting labelled 5673 is still there. the boy uses his magic to make the bedsheets a bright yellow before santa dies, and it cuts back again. so we do something to get there quicker, someone either teleports or shapeshifts, and the boy gets to have a talk with santa.

"what is this all about?" he says, confused, and slightly frustrated. "what is what about? it's good to see you again." "well, i.. nevermind, i guess. it's nice to see you too. how are you doing?" the boy sits down with a sigh before santa says anything. "well, i've been sick for a while now, i don't think i have much longer. it's a shame, really." hesistantly the boy asks a question. "..do you know about the ice queen?" "oh, her? i haven't heard about her in the last decade or so. i wonder where she went.. do you know anything about her?" and the boy stops dead in his own tracks. he's a bit breathtaken, before he explains he attacked her because she did something to him. santa is a bit taken aback by this, but nods slowly before he goes to lay in his bed again.

and then it cuts again. we get back there faster this time, and then i'm the one talking to santa. "what is this timeloop about? why does this keep happening?" i'm stern and very obviously serious in my tone. all he says in response is "five thousand, six hundred and seventry three." i'm a bit frustrated by this answer before i realise. it's been 5673 loops before we got to this point. the boy then steps in and tries to use his magic. for what i don't know, i'm not longer a simple spectator and neither can i hear his thoughts. the dream ends here.

i clearly remember looking at the lady and thinking that's the ice queen. but it seemed like i was just a spectator for a while..?

THATS WILD. you are going to the time loop. i should tell my dream stories at some point. i don’t dream often but i have at least 3 times appeared in other people’s dreams as an entity of some kind

[sycamorality]

the number 5673 was important. there was a boy, around 7 years old, white, blueish-brown eyes and brown hair, wearing a blue jacket. nobody knew where his parents was, but he was in some sort of… big town? very lavist and decorated, with a golden arch for the entrance. there were lots of other kids there, but there were very few if no adults, except for one, a guy that seemed to be santa. he was bald, and didn't really wear the regular santa 'costume', rather wearing a blue short and denim pants. he was pretty nice. he talked about monkies and bananas a few times, and mentioned how you could give your banana peel to them to eat, "give the monkies your leftovers so they can eat it and crunch it". but later the boy did something? so he had to flee from the town, and everything outisde of a 500m radius from the town was freezing winter cold with snow and ice everywhere.

the boy ran and ran, until he came across a sort of tent-like things, made out of small interwoven spruce and dark oak branches, with triangular glass being kept together by the branches. there was lady, piercing blue eyes and blonde hair. something about her was… weird. she was wearing a simple yet elegant thin dress [presumably with undergarments], despite all the cold around her - and her gaze was making him uneasy. she invited the boy in and he took refuge, later learning there was a sort of camp nearby that he was lead to, with what seemed like teenagers, around age 16-19.

the boy's 16 now, and has learned he has magic. the lady says something to him and he realises she's the ice queen. of course she is. it was obvious from the start but he didn't notice it until now. he starts shaping weird crystal daggers out of ice, and throwing them with telekinesis at the ice queen, until the other people there also start fighting him so he has to stab them with them too. he defends himself and gets hit in the head with one of his own ice-crystal-daggers, but keeps going. there's blood everywhere in the snow, but eventually he gets away and runs. there's no looking back now, he just runs. some follow him, but not to fight him. they follow him because they don't want to be there anymore either. he's made a few friends it seems.

they travel for a long while. at some point i'm there, and we're travelling across islands. there's palm trees and thin oak and birch trees. the sand on the outer edges of the islands is rather went and uncomfortable to walk in. i point out a cloud that looks like a bear [and i'd be damned if i didn't, that was straight up a realistic bear made by a cloud. black nose and eyes and all], but the clouds seem to move extremely quick, so even if i point at it its gone in under 5 seconds, and only 2 other people see it. i look out at the horizon and see just how quickly the clouds are moving. there's something weird about it, but i don't comment on it. the group moves forward, until we reach an island, where one side of it is cold - not extremely 'im shivering because of how cold it is', think a cold spring breeze, and the other is warm. think summer warmth. it's a very notable difference and we mess around with it a bit until we continue on.

then a man in a yellow water scooter(? i do not know what its called. it looked like a sort of small yellow kayak but it had a motor and could go very fast) drives up to us and i, and the boy, recognise him as santa. he's offering us a ride to go to the town, and we all accept the invitation and are driven there. a short while after, the boy, now 19, walks around in the building santa lives in. he spots a painting, one of the sea and an island, striated clouds abound in the sky above as a wave splashes against the shore. above it is the number 5673. the boy spots santa, laying on those hospital beds they move you around in, right by a window with the curtains up. he uses his magic to pull the curtains down for the sun to shine through. santa looks like he's in a rough state, and he is. he's practically dying. he moves to the room that used to be his office, now with another hospital bed there. he speaks with the boy and then he slowly passes away.

then there's a cut, and we're back on the islands, an hour or so before santa would offer a ride. one of us have a weird feeling about this, and shapeshift into santa and the boat to ride us to santa, and he's alive for longer. the boy gets to talk with him a bit more before he dies. the same painting labelled 5673 is still there. the boy uses his magic to make the bedsheets a bright yellow before santa dies, and it cuts back again. so we do something to get there quicker, someone either teleports or shapeshifts, and the boy gets to have a talk with santa.

"what is this all about?" he says, confused, and slightly frustrated. "what is what about? it's good to see you again." "well, i.. nevermind, i guess. it's nice to see you too. how are you doing?" the boy sits down with a sigh before santa says anything. "well, i've been sick for a while now, i don't think i have much longer. it's a shame, really." hesistantly the boy asks a question. "..do you know about the ice queen?" "oh, her? i haven't heard about her in the last decade or so. i wonder where she went.. do you know anything about her?" and the boy stops dead in his own tracks. he's a bit breathtaken, before he explains he attacked her because she did something to him. santa is a bit taken aback by this, but nods slowly before he goes to lay in his bed again.

and then it cuts again. we get back there faster this time, and then i'm the one talking to santa. "what is this timeloop about? why does this keep happening?" i'm stern and very obviously serious in my tone. all he says in response is "five thousand, six hundred and seventry three." i'm a bit frustrated by this answer before i realise. it's been 5673 loops before we got to this point. the boy then steps in and tries to use his magic. for what i don't know, i'm not longer a simple spectator and neither can i hear his thoughts. the dream ends here.

i clearly remember looking at the lady and thinking that's the ice queen. but it seemed like i was just a spectator for a while..?

dated 29th of april, 2024

[infradapt]

The Tell-Tale HDD

When applied to the modern business, a classic tale from Edgar Allen Poe takes on a new spin.

If Edgar Allan Poe worked in an office, here’s what one of his works would sound like:

  True!—nervous—very, very dreadfully nervous I have been and am, but why will you say that I am mad? The office had sharpened my senses—not destroyed—not dulled them. Above all was my sense of hearing. I heard all things in heaven and on earth and many things in…the other place. So, how then am I mad, especially when I can so healthily and calmly tell you this story?

  It’s impossible to say how the idea first entered my brain, but once conceived, I couldn’t get it out of my head. There was no reason for it, there was no feeling behind it. I really liked my boss. He had never wronged me, he had always respected me. I wasn’t even that jealous of his money. I think it was his eye…yes, it was this. Whenever we were working in the office, his gaze would fall upon us and my blood would run cold. After a while, very gradually, I determined that I needed to take my leave of the company, and rid myself of his critical gaze. 

  To do so, I would take the company’s data along with me to make me more valuable to the next company I found.

  Now, this is the point, and why you probably think I’m nuts. Here’s the thing, though…would a crazy person so carefully and cautiously make such a plan as I had? I was the ideal employee for the boss. Every day, after the boss had left, I would copy a bit of the company’s data onto a hard disk drive I kept hidden in my desk. I did this for an entire week, adding a little more data to my drive each time. Every morning, when work began, I would stride in confidently and greet the boss, asking him how his evening was. So, he would need to be very quick to suspect that I was siphoning away some of his data after he left.

  On the eighth night, I set up my hard drive to copy more data than ever, and I felt more accomplished than any night prior to this one. There was so much data that I now had to offer a new employer. To think I had managed to collect so much valuable data, little by little, and for the boss to have no idea. I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself. The boss heard me, and he came out of his office quite suddenly. You’d think that I’d be concerned—but no. The office was dark, with most workstations asleep, and the door could only be opened from the inside. I knew that I was hidden from his sight, so I continued my work.

  Suddenly, my workstation beeped, and the boss turned to my direction, crying out—”Who’s there?”

  I stayed very still at my desk. For a whole hour I didn’t move a muscle, and he didn’t close his door after he returned to his office. He was waiting there, listening, just as I had done each night of the preceding week.

  After a moment, he groaned, and I knew he was scared. This wasn’t a groan of pain or grief—oh, no—it was the sound that comes when someone is stifling back deep terror from their soul. I knew it well, because the same feeling would hit me in the late hours of the night, and would make a similar sound myself. I knew how my boss felt, and almost pitied him. Almost. I could hear him muttering to himself, trying to explain away his nerves. He quickly gathered his things, continuing to explain away his nerves to himself, and promptly left—still never discovering me at my workstation.

  I waited a long time, listening for the elevator doors, the sound of his car driving away, before I resumed my work. The glow of my display illuminated my hands as I copied file after file to my hard drive. With quiet determination, I took a copy of every file, my hidden hard drive whirring away as data was added to its stores.

  Suddenly, I hear it—a rhythmic, quiet clicking, emerging from the drawer containing my hard drive, punctuated by high-pitched squeals. Panicking, I turned off my workstation, killing power to the drive, and swiftly left the office and made my way home. In my haste, the drive was left in the drawer. Returning home, I slept a fitful and restless sleep.

  When morning came, I returned to the office filled with confidence, yet tired from my restless night. As such, I was on edge. I sat at my desk, with little patience for the droll chatter that my coworkers were sharing around me. I booted up my workstation, smiling despite myself, knowing that in the desk I sat at laid the proof of my triumph. I smiled, greeting my coworkers politely, keeping up the ruse to avoid any suspicion.

  My coworkers suspected nothing, my cheerful demeanor and casual spirit giving them no reason for concern. Before very long, however, I grew more tired and my head began to ache. Meanwhile, I began to hear a quiet screeching which grew louder and louder as the day passed. I continued talking to try and drown out the sound, but it wasn’t long before I realized that the sound wasn’t just in my head.

  I felt myself grow pale, although I continued to confer with my teammates to try and drown out the sound. Yet the sound continued to grow. I spoke louder, more animatedly, but the sound still grew louder. I continued to speak, more and more aggressively, but the noise still grew more and more pronounced. How could my coworkers not hear the clicking and squealing coming from my drawer? I kicked my feet against the side of the desk where the hard drive was kept, but the noise was still drowned out by the squealing and clicking. Yet my coworkers still chatted pleasantly and cordially. Could they really not hear it? No, that was impossible. They knew—and not only that, they were mocking my attempts to hide it.

  I couldn’t take it any longer. Louder, louder, and louder the clicks and screeches grew, and I could no longer stand to look at their calm faces, hear their trifling conversations. I needed to scream, or I would explode. Louder, and louder, and louder, again and again and again—

  “FINE,” I screamed. “I can’t take it anymore! I admit it, I was stealing data! Here, look in my desk—here, here it is—the clicking and squealing of the horrible hard drive I used!”

  We understand how scary the thought of an insider threat can be, nevermind the idea that it could be your business’ equipment that fails in such a spectacular fashion. We’re here to help protect you against these circumstances and many, many more. Give us a call at 484-546-2001 to learn more about what we can do for you.

https://www.infradapt.com/news/the-tell-tale-hdd/

[dokeomi]

shin

he would lose if he left now, because shin hates backing down. but he can’t say that to minsung, who’ll turn tail the moment things start getting worse. “i dunno. i could start, like, a debate club. destroy young hopes and ambitions in the classroom. that’d be fun.” he doesn’t really mean that, but minsung isn’t fond of kids and might think it’s funny. shin presses his side against his. “if your other hand is this cold too, you should take my glove.”

“You can have a color for each day of the week, like some weird cartoon character.” Minsung decides in what would be a very un-Shin-like decision to make. He laughs at the curl of the word under Shin’s tongue, like it tastes bitter. Minsung had been more defensive over cheap fabrics at the start of things, but not as much anymore, he likes the feel of Shin’s cashmere sweaters too much to get worked up over it. Besides, he’d picked out polyester for the joke just because of how awful it was. It dies out between them in that slow, awkward way of an abrupt mood change, where the tail end of it starts sounding a little nervous.

There are lots of things Minsung can’t put into words, and this feeling’s among them. The promise that he’d leave, because there isn’t a word for self-pitying anger wrapped up in relief. So Minsung just nods at him once, like it’s settled, and keeps looking at anywhere but Shin’s face. It’s too much of a lot of things right now that they’d maybe both been holding back from saying.

He knows he should pry apart his jaw and say ‘I love you’ back properly. He’s not angry, that’s not why. It’s hard to explain the why of when talking becomes hard for him. He drops his head briefly to settle near Shin’s shoulder, the press of his nose and a quick, pinch of a bite just above his jacket’s collar. It holds the same essential meaning. 

“You can start a hobby. Like those people really into simulated train driving. That could be you.” Half a joke spoken humid into Shin’s neck before he rights himself. He wants to walk again, standing still’s making energy bunch up in his calves, but he’s not sure whether it’s a better idea to head deeper or start back for the house. “And I didn’t do a good job on the sink, you’re just trying to compliment me.” Minsung says it like an accusation, though not an angry one. Trying to ferry the mood out of the mire it had sunken into. 

“What would you have everyone argue about first?” Minsung asks him, takes a moment to look back and forth, to see if Shin will weigh in on the direction before Minsung slowly starts to wander on the same path they’d been walking down before. “You should put it back on, you’re the one with the baby immune system. I’m scrappy.” Minsung tells him, even if his hand is defrosting with Shin’s added body heat because he’d taken it off.

“We should’ve brought heat packs. There’s a turn up ahead that we can use to double back, the sun’ll probably start leaving soon anyway.” In winter it always leaves faster, and it’s harder to make out its goodbyes from behind all the trees. In the dark and things become a little stranger, moments where even Minsung feels uneasy.

[yellowpencilcrayon]

*stopped at a red light*

Person A: come close for a quick second

Person B: yes *puts face close to A*

Person A: *grabs B's chin and kisses their forhead* you're very beautiful

[s0apysm1les]

Yo can we get a yandere superman (or any character that fits) with a reader who has romatoid arthritis. They struggle to move around or can't handle the cold cuz of their bad joints.

oh gosh~ as someone with Ehlers Danlos I completely understand the bad joints thing. Some days I can hardly sit in bed without crying, let alone getting out of it. I would kill to have a superman take care of me too on those days~

.......

Yandere Superman x Arthritic Reader

Nothing More Mentality

CW: yandere thoughts/tendencies, reader has Rheumatoid Arthritis, gn!reader, implied stalking, pushy Clark

........

When first impressions are set upon, your new neighbor Clark Kent seems pretty distressed upon his first encounter of you gingerly nursing the joints in your hand. Your thumb pressed to the back of your other hand and rolling in circular motions to fight the sharp arcing pain that throbbed through the creaking area. He did not know you well enough to offer this, but he still (embarrassingly confidently) asked if he could be the one to massage your hand.

The quick-to-follow explanation of doing the same thing for his mother back on the farm was some sort of an ice breaker but you still wanted to tell him no... But... You said sure. And contrary to his demure demeanor, his grip was firm and his hands were large and hot while the movements of his fingers immediately had the tension in your body from being touched by a stranger to melt away.

Oh, oh my. He works at the Daily Planet with hands like these? He could be a world-class Masseuse with this talent and never see a day without business. It took you keeping these thoughts together that protected you from melting into his arms right there.

You stopped his ministrations and thanked him for the help. You weren't able to refuse his next request of accompanying you to wherever you were going - to make sure you got there okay, you were sure - And with this humanoid version of a Golden Retriever, you made your way to your apartment. He was very excited to let you know that his room was only four units down the hall from you.

He also seemed to miss the grimace-like smile you gave him back. Was this how they did things where he's from? You couldn't help the little invasive thought that he was making fun of you somehow. You were used to people not believing your need for breaks or your signs of pain just because you were younger than what they expected to be "reasonable" for someone with Arthritis. You really hoped this small town guy wasn't someone like them.

Judging by his accent its got to be from Arkansas or some place like that. He sounded like a country boy. He didn't seem to be quick on the trigger like them, but you learned to never judge by how they appear.

He bid farewell at the door and left you to your simple unit. You had bits and baubles of your hobbies set around each room and you walked directly to the cubby in your living room where you kept a majority of your medical items. While slipping on the compression glove, you couldn't help but think back to that guy once more... What was his name again? Clark...

...

After the introduction and a short pause, your life returning to its normal balance of blah days and lasting pains, you were surprised and distressed to find that you had forgotten your much needed pain medication while stuck at work. The clouds had rolled in thick and dark shortly after you clocked in and the pressure was making you feel like your joints would explode. You couldn't help but think that you'd want that to happen, if it meant there would be a momentary relief from the building and pushing and throbbing cold pain from under your skin.

The heavy rain and strong winds persisted through the day, and carried on well into the evening and almost prevented you from leaving. If it wasn't for your coworker Maria offering to drive you home, knowing you couldn't walk in this weather and in your condition. She dropped you off just in front of your building and bid you goodnight. The pain was tremendous but the relief of going home made you push through it. Up until another heavy gust led you to tumble and slam into a road sign. The solid metal rang loudly and your groan joined it and sat there slumped for what may have been two minutes.

A blur of blue joined you in the grey scenery of the concrete sidewalk and a strangely unique set of strong, hot hands held you and supported you into standing.

"Here, let me help you up. A citizen in need on a dark day is a fine neighbor." The deep cadence of heroism made his voice sound like ringing metal too.

Clark? You couldn't help the name coming into your mind. The way he talked reminded you of the neighbor.

The hand holding you stiffened slightly as you analyzed the Hero's face. There was definitely some familiar marks, the eyes, the cheekbones the smooth flawless skin. But it was the oddly warm hands that have become a regular second thought that almost made you sure.

You thought of him?

"Superman?" You asked slowly, slightly putting some of your weight into his grip to relieve the pain somewhat. "What are you doing here?" Shouldn't he be fighting crime.

"Even criminals today have seemed to hold off do to this harsh weather. I am thankful that this means I was here to help you, citizen." His hero voice kind of made you want to laugh, but you weren't going to let him know that.

"Let me help you get to your home. Is this your residence?" Superman quickly followed his previous statement as we gestured to the tall apartment complex before you. You nodded and almost yelped as he swept your feet into a Princess carry without warning.

He floats to your floor and down to your door at your direction. As he sets you down and bids a farewell he turns to leave before turning to face you one last time with one last message.

"Anytime you need a helping hand, don't be afraid to call. I can hear you no matter where you are!" He smiled and lifted an arm to wave "But there are others who can be heroes just as much as me, there is surely a neighbor here or two who can always lend a hand. This is Metropolis, where everyone is a neighbor and friend!" He turned and left surprisingly quickly and you went back home.

You were only alone for you to grab a towel and start drying your hair from the rain before you heard some heavy but soft knocking on your door. Opening it showed a nervous looking Clark.

"OH! Hey Clark. It's been a while! How are you?" You asked.

"Oh! I've been good. Did.. Did you just hear superman in the hallways too? I wonder why he was here." You look to him for a split second before deciding to let him know. He seems relieved you're okay and gives you his phone numbers, both his home and his rarely-used cell phone in case the same thing happens again.

"You don't need to do that, Clark. I just have some pains and they were really bad today-"

"I don't mind!" He interrupted you, startling you both. It seems that even he didn't realize that he could just cut you off mid sentence like that. He was a little pushy, you guess, but he means well and it wasn't as if you *had* to call him. So you accepted, talked for a little bit longer - where he acted like a beaten puppy for yelling at you.

Ever since then you've seen what is basically the city's celebrity way more often than you were used to. Lois Lane herself was constantly visiting your building while investigating scoops and meeting her friend who works above you. You also saw Superman - the object of her investigating - near your building. One stray wave to you as he flew past a window in front of her led to Lois constantly asking about the relationship between you two.

She was... a lot pushier about there being something between you and the hero than you liked. You told her up front that he had only helped you while you were hurt and was merely concerned over you as a hero and the denizen of the city he protects. She didn't seem to agree with your "Nothing more" Mentality. Especially when the Superhero descended in front of the two of you leaving the building to greet you before her.

This was only the second time that he had spoken to you and he was greeting you before *THE* Lois Lane? The woman he was supposedly in love with? What was going on in the world? Lois looked at you in that particular way that said "What did I say?" and you ignored it to greet the overly kind hero.

He greeted you first, pausing and turning to Lois with a brisk nod of his head and her name before turning back to you.

"Reader. How are you doing? Are you... well?" He asked slowly, one of his hands was in the other as he seemingly pressed on his palm in nervousness? What for?

"O-oh! I'm fine. Superman." You spoke quickly, unsure and frankly embarrassed at this scene unfolding in front of your company office. This was surely going to make tomorrow hell.

"I was wondering, if you have some free time, would you allow me to take you somewhere?" There wasn't anything that you had planned for the evening so you technically could say yes but you were really hurting today and you just wanted to rest at home with a comfortable blanket and an ice pack. You didn't even want to think of how hard walking home would be...

When it took you a second of thought to decide, the hero follows up with "Can I at least take you home? I would feel awful if you refused me at least that for burdening you with my request."

How did he always seem to know what was on your mind? You agree to him walking you home, but was startled when he lifted you up into a princess carry once again and began a steady flight above the buildings to your home.

The whole flight you thought about this and that, the people at work, the people you've met and everything going on and why your world suddenly flipped on its head and why a literal Alien Superhero went so far out of his way to take you home.

Your mind went wild the entire time that you flew in the calming body heat of the hero and you didn't notice if he was talking to you or not... He was not.

.

He was listening to your every racing thought and he felt his nervousness increase each time your thoughts directed themselves to why Superman was acting so *clingy*.

He wanted to cringe when you thought that but he didn't want to deny how often he thought about you. How strong and resilient you were, how small and cold your hand was on that rainy day... How ever since then he has only thought about you and had actually even slipped up and revealed his identity to Lois Lane. Why she supported his and your budding relationship, he couldn't figure out, but it definitely gave him an excuse.

He was just glad to have your frail body in his arms. And when he set you down in front of your door he listened to both your thoughts and you as you mulled over the words to say.

.

"Thanks... Superman... Say..." You slowly pull these few words out of the jumbled mess of your mind. You don't even realize what you say next until it's out of your mouth.

"Are you my neighbor?" ... Silence filled the narrow deserted space you two were in. He stood well over a head's height over you and you swallowed.

You couldn't get the nervous smile of Clark Kent first meeting you out of your mind. The same face that he had again now. Once you said it aloud you couldn't unsee the similarities.

"Wait, wait. Never mind that was just a joke! I don't-" You were starting to ramble and you stopped when you was his shoulders jumping. He was... laughing. Quietly laughing and he put his forehead in his palm as he kept laughing and his large shoulders kept rising and falling viciously. You were about to turn and try to get in your house because it was making you scared when he suddenly stopped- as if he heard your fear.

"I don't know how you found this out when no one else here has-" Not even Lois Lane? You wondered. "Not even Lois, but- Now that you did... will you let 'Clark Kent' walk you home when 'Superman' can't?" His unnaturally bright blue eyes scared you as they stared deep into your shaking soul.

That didn't sound like a request.

"This isn't a request." It didn't feel like one. You swallowed heavily, maybe you should've paid attention to the warning signs.

[turnpage]

send me a ✐ for a random sentence starter from my muse (1-1500) — tw: profanity, mild nsfw, long list

generator here quotes compiled from here inspired by

feel free to change to fit your preferences as need.

❨1❩ ❛ They are dreams, but I’m too out of control, I lose myself in them, and I’ve already lost too much to let them take over. ❜
 ❨2❩ ❛ Sometimes human places create inhuman monsters. ❜ ❨3❩ ❛ I'm not gonna hurt ya. I'm just going to bash your brains in. ❜ ❨4❩ ❛ Monsters are real. Ghosts are too. They live inside of us, and sometimes, they win. ❜ ❨5❩ ❛ The world's a hard place. It doesn't care. It doesn't hate you and me, but it doesn't love us, either. ❜ ❨6❩ ❛ The tears that heal are also the tears that scald and scourge. ❜ ❨7❩ ❛ Pull your act together and just go on. ❜ ❨8❩ ❛ I had never dreamed there could be so much pain in a life when there is nothing physically wrong. I hurt all the time. ❜ ❨9❩ ❛ Tough old world, baby. If you're not bolted together tightly, you're gonna shake, rattle, and roll before you turn thirty. ❜ ❨10❩ ❛ Are you sure self-pity is a luxury you can afford? ❜ ❨11❩ ❛ Truth comes out. In the end it always comes out. ❜ ❨12❩ ❛ Living by your wits is always knowing where the wasps are. ❜ ❨13❩ ❛ No matter where you go, the same asshole gets off the plane. ❜ ❨14❩ ❛ We sometimes need to create unreal monsters and bogies to stand in for all the things we fear in our real lives. ❜ ❨15❩ ❛ That’s your job in this hard world, to keep your love alive and see that you get on, no matter what. ❜ ❨16❩ ❛ Human nature, baby. Grab it and growl. ❜ ❨17❩ ❛ God wiped snot out of his nose and that was you. ❜ ❨18❩ ❛ Run away. Quick. And remember how much I love you. ❜ ❨19❩ ❛ How many times, over how many years, have I—a grown adult—asked for the mercy of another chance? ❜ ❨20❩ ❛ I was suddenly so sick of myself, so revolted. ❜ ❨21❩ ❛ You listen to me. I’m going to talk to you about it this once and never again this same way. ❜ ❨22❩ ❛ But those pieces, they’ll never fit just the same way again. Never in this world. ❜ ❨23❩ ❛ Dying is a part of living. You have to keep tuning in to that if you expect to be a whole person. ❜ ❨24❩ ❛ Officious little prick. ❜ ❨25❩ ❛ I’ve been sleepwalking again, my dear. — The plants are moving under the rug. ❜ ❨26❩ ❛ How I wish you were fear. ❜ ❨27❩ ❛ But it was a dreadful kind of curiosity, the kind that makes you peek through your fingers during the scariest parts of a scary movie. ❜ ❨28❩ ❛ All we have is time, you know. An eternity of time. Or shall we end it? Might as well. After all, we're missing the party. ❜ ❨29❩ ❛ We all remember our pleasant dreams more clearly than the scary ones. ❜ ❨30❩ ❛ The way things should be and the way things are hardly ever get together. ❜ ❨31❩ ❛ Got to be regular if you want to be happy. ❜ ❨32❩ ❛ But in a solitary life, there are rare moments when another soul dips near yours, as stars once a year brush the earth. ❜ ❨33❩ ❛ He showed me his scars, and in return he let me pretend that I had none. ❜ ❨34❩ ❛ Humbling women seems to me a chief pastime of poets. As if there can be no story unless we crawl and weep. ❜ ❨35❩ ❛ It is a common saying that women are delicate creatures, flowers, eggs, anything that may be crushed in a moment's carelessness.  ❜ ❨36❩ ❛ If I had ever believed it, I no longer do. ❜ ❨37❩ ❛ I thought once that gods are the opposite of death, but I see now they are more dead than anything, for they are unchanging, and can hold nothing in their hands. ❜ ❨38❩ ❛ I cannot bear this world a moment longer. ❜ ❨39❩ ❛ I have a better idea. I will do as I please. ❜ ❨40❩ ❛ All my life has been murk and depths, but I am not a part of that dark water. I am a creature within it. ❜ ❨41❩ ❛ You cannot know how frightened gods are of pain. There is nothing more foreign to them, and so nothing they ache more deeply to see. ❜ ❨42❩ ❛ When we are young, we think ourselves the first to have each feeling in the world. ❜ ❨43❩ ❛ When I was born, the word for what I was did not exist. ❜ ❨44❩ ❛ But perhaps no parent can truly see their child. When we look we see only the mirror of our own faults. ❜ ❨45❩ ❛ I will not be like a bird bred in a cage, too dull to fly even when the door stands open. ❜ ❨46❩ ❛ This is what it means to swim in the tide, to walk the earth and feel it touch your feet. This is what it means to be alive. ❜ ❨47❩ ❛ You threw me to the crows, but it turns out I prefer them to you. ❜ ❨48❩ ❛ Yet because I knew nothing, nothing was beneath me. ❜ ❨49❩ ❛ If now I am wise, it is only because I have been fool enough for a hundred lifetimes. ❜ ❨50❩ ❛ You can teach a viper to eat from your hands, but you cannot take away how much it likes to bite. ❜ ❨51❩ ❛ Give me the blade. Some things are worth spilling blood for. ❜ ❨52❩ ❛ I have been old and stern for so long, carved with regrets and years like a monolith. But that is only a shape I’ve been poured into. I do not have to keep it. ❜ ❨53❩ ❛ I wake sometimes in the dark terrified by my life's precariousness, its thready breath. ❜ ❨54❩ ❛ Understanding the world is a matter of keeping very still and showing no emotions, leaving room for others to reveal themselves. ❜ ❨55❩ ❛ Beneath the smooth, familiar face of things is another that waits to tear the world in two. ❜ ❨56❩ ❛ The truth is, men make terrible pigs. ❜ ❨57❩ ❛ My father has never been able to imagine the world without himself in it. ❜ ❨58❩ ❛ This is the grief that makes our kind choose to be stones and trees rather than flesh. ❜ ❨59❩ ❛ Witches are not so delicate. ❜ ❨60❩ ❛ Those who fight against prophecy only draw it more tightly around their throats. ❜ ❨61❩ ❛ I learned that I could bend the world to my will, as a bow is bent for an arrow. I would have done that toil a thousand times to keep such power in my hands. ❜ ❨62❩ ❛ There's the story, then there's the real story, then there's the story of how the story came to be told. Then there's what you leave out of the story. Which is part of the story too. ❜ ❨63❩ ❛ The best way of being kind to bears is not to be very close to them. ❜ ❨64❩ ❛ Life is warped. I'm just in sync. ❜ ❨65❩ ❛ Now it's a whisper from the past. ❜ ❨66❩ ❛ But hatred and viciousness are addictive. You can get high on them. Once you've had a little, you start shaking if you don't get more. ❜ ❨67❩ ❛ Why is it always such a surprise? The moon. Even though we know it's coming. Every time we see it, it makes us pause, and hush. ❜ ❨68❩ ❛ Perfection exacts a price, but it's the imperfect who pay it. ❜ ❨69❩ ❛ What is 'belief' but a willingness to suspend the negatives?  ❜ ❨70❩ ❛ I have scars, inside me. ❜ ❨71❩ ❛ The dead are not entirely dead but are alive in a different way; a paler way admittedly, and somewhat darker. ❜ ❨72❩ ❛ However dark, a darkness with voices in it is better than a silent void. ❜ ❨73❩ ❛ Amazing how quickly the past becomes idyllic. ❜ ❨74❩ ❛ It is another way of saying tough luck. To people you aren’t going to help out. ❜ ❨75❩ ❛ I'm waiting, far off in the future. ❜ ❨76❩ ❛ The only sure camouflage is unpredictability. ❜ ❨77❩ ❛ There are so many of them, and each one of them is doing part of the killing, whether they know it or not. ❜ ❨78❩ ❛ First rule: limit bloodshed by making sure that none of your own gets spilled. ❜ ❨79❩ ❛ I long to swim in liquid moonlight. ❜ ❨80❩ ❛ That's right, I don’t like to be summoned on trivial matters. ❜ ❨81❩ ❛ The part that really made me happy was that you wanted me to be happy. ❜ ❨82❩ ❛ Cut that part out of us: the grinning, elemental malice. Begin us anew. ❜ ❨83❩ ❛ Where there are wars, there will be crows, the carrion-fanciers. And ravens too, the warbirds, the eyeball gourmands. And vultures, the holy birds of yore, old connoisseurs of rot. ❜ ❨84❩ ❛ At last. It's you. ❜ ❨85❩ ❛ No, you will not be cooked on a fire when you die. Because you are not a fish. ❜ ❨86❩ ❛ Take what the moment offers. Don’t close doors. Be thankful. ❜ ❨87❩ ❛ How many others have stood in this place? Left behind, with all gone, all swept away. ❜ ❨88❩ ❛ Is it disapproval or extreme lust? With some men it’s hard to tell the difference. ❜ ❨89❩ ❛ My hair was driving me crazy, but then … I died. ❜ ❨90❩ ❛ Seek and ye shall find, eventually. And you found. You’re right, I don’t dispute that. Sorry. ❜ ❨91❩ ❛ Everything digests, and is digested. ❜ ❨92❩ ❛ My head was once a filing cabinet. Now it’s a flurry of papers, floating on a draft. ❜ ❨93❩ ❛ You cannot keep bumping your head against reality and saying it is not there. ❜ ❨94❩ ❛ I have a feeling that inside you somewhere, there’s something nobody knows about. ❜ ❨95❩ ❛ And if I don’t want to die, I’ve got to start living. ❜ ❨96❩ ❛ The world is a beautiful place. Don’t forget that. And don’t miss it. ❜ ❨97❩ ❛ I was fighting for my life. So I must not want to die. ❜ ❨98❩ ❛ Something’s happening to me, through me, something dangerous and new. ❜ ❨99❩ ❛ It’s taken root, a poison tree; it’s grown, fanning out, vines winding round my gut, my lungs, my heart. ❜ ❨100❩ ❛ We’re interpreters. We’re translators. ❜ ❨101❩ ❛ You’ll notice I’m not asking what made you this way. ❜ ❨102❩ ❛ No family, happy or unhappy, is quite like any other. Tolstoy was chock-fullo’shit. Remember that. ❜ ❨103❩ ❛ We lived in monochrome those nights. ❜ ❨104❩ ❛ You live in a dream. You’re a sleepwalker, blind. How do you know what the world is like? ❜ ❨105❩ ❛ Do you know, if you rip off the fronts of houses, you’d find swine? ❜ ❨106❩ ❛ I stand here in the dark: cold, utterly alone, full of fear and something that feels like longing. ❜ ❨107❩ ❛ The definition of insanity is doing the same thing again and again and expecting different results. ❜ ❨108❩ ❛ Not to warm the flesh, but solely to please the eye. ❜ ❨109❩ ❛ Selective emotional detachment. ❜ ❨110❩ ❛ Not for me, or at least not today. ❜ ❨111❩ ❛ Dead but not gone, watching life surge forward around me, powerless to intervene. ❜ ❨112❩ ❛ Do I sound like a hillbilly saying that? ❜ ❨113❩ ❛ Remember, you’ve got your secret weapon. ❜ ❨114❩ ❛ The dream drains away like water. The memory, really. I try to scoop it up in my palms, but it’s gone. ❜ ❨115❩ ❛ My shadow stretches along the carpet, as though trying to detach itself from me. ❜ ❨116❩ ❛ It curls away from me, like blood in water. ❜ ❨117❩ ❛ It’s been so long since I felt the rain. Or wind—the caress of wind. ❜ ❨118❩ ❛ But snow I never want to feel again. ❜ ❨119❩ ❛ Through adversity to the stars. ❜ ❨120❩ ❛ No hero. No sleuth. I am locked in. I am locked out. ❜ ❨121❩ ❛ Thinking hasn't gotten me anywhere so far. ❜ ❨122❩ ❛ The face you give the world tells the world how to treat you. ❜ ❨123❩ ❛ Sometimes I think illness sits inside every woman, waiting for the right moment to bloom. ❜ ❨124❩ ❛ Women get consumed. ❜ ❨125❩ ❛ Sometimes if you let people do things to you, you're really doing it to them. ❜ ❨126❩ ❛ A child weaned on poison considers harm a comfort. ❜ ❨127❩ ❛ Safer to be feared than loved. ❜ ❨128❩ ❛ I ached once, hard, like a period typed at the end of a sentence. ❜ ❨129❩ ❛ It's impossible to compete with the dead. I wish I could stop trying. ❜ ❨130❩ ❛ I always feel sad for the girl that I was. ❜ ❨131❩ ❛ Every time people said I was pretty, I thought of everything ugly swarming beneath my clothes. ❜ ❨132❩ ❛ How do you keep safe when your whole day is as wide and empty as the sky? Anything could happen. ❜ ❨133❩ ❛ See, there I am. I told you I lived. I told you I was. ❜ ❨134❩ ❛ Sometimes I think I won't ever feel safe until I can count my last days on one hand. ❜ ❨135❩ ❛ To refuse has so many more consequences than submitting. ❜ ❨136❩ ❛ I'm here. I don't usually feel that I am. ❜ ❨137❩ ❛ I'm tired of dying. ❜ ❨138❩ ❛ What if you hurt because it feels so good? ❜ ❨139❩ ❛ How confusing to live in the shadow of a shadow. ❜ ❨140❩ ❛ Do you ever feel like bad things are going to happen, and you can’t stop them? You can’t do anything, you just have to wait? ❜ ❨141❩ ❛ Sometimes my scars have a mind of their own. ❜ ❨142❩ ❛ Everyone has their own version of a memory. ❜ ❨143❩ ❛ Isn’t a smile a girl’s best weapon? ❜ ❨144❩ ❛ My sense of weightlessness, I think, comes from the fact that I know so little about my past. ❜ ❨145❩ ❛ Do what I want; I might like you. ❜ ❨146❩ ❛ I feel sorry for Persephone because even when she’s back with the living, people are afraid of her because of where’s she’s been. ❜ ❨147❩ ❛ She has never told me she loved me, and I never assumed she did. ❜ ❨148❩ ❛ The sight of it actually does something to you, makes you less human. ❜ ❨149❩ ❛ It infects you. It ruined me. ❜ ❨150❩ ❛ Your health is not a debt you just cancel. The body collects. ❜ ❨151❩ ❛ Men love to put things inside women, don’t they? ❜ ❨152❩ ❛ We can know only that we know nothing. And that is the highest degree of human wisdom. ❜ ❨153❩ ❛ Nothing is so necessary for a young man as the company of intelligent women. ❜ ❨154❩ ❛ The strongest of all warriors are these two — time and patience. ❜ ❨155❩ ❛ If everyone fought for their own convictions there would be no war. ❜ ❨156❩ ❛ There is no greatness where there is not simplicity, goodness, and truth. ❜ ❨157❩ ❛ The whole world is divided for me into two parts: one is she, and there is all happiness, hope, light; the other is where she is not, and there is dejection and darkness. ❜ ❨158❩ ❛ Let the dead bury the dead, but while I'm alive, I must live and be happy. ❜ ❨159❩ ❛ It's not given to people to judge what's right or wrong. People have eternally been mistaken and will be mistaken, and in nothing more than in what they consider right and wrong. ❜ ❨160❩ ❛ You can love a person dear to you with a human love, but an enemy can only be loved with divine love. ❜ ❨161❩ ❛ If we admit that human life can be ruled by reason, then all possibility of life is destroyed. ❜ ❨162❩ ❛ We are asleep until we fall in love! ❜ ❨163❩ ❛ I simply want to live; to cause no evil to anyone but myself. ❜ ❨164❩ ❛ Everything I know, I know because of love. ❜ ❨165❩ ❛ Man cannot possess anything as long as he fears death. But to him who does not fear it, everything belongs. ❜ ❨166❩ ❛ If there was no suffering, man would not know his limits, would not know himself. ❜ ❨167❩ ❛ Yes, love, but not the love that loves for something, to gain something, or because of something, but that love that I felt for the first time, when dying, I saw my enemy and yet loved him. ❜ ❨168❩ ❛ How can one be well...when one suffers morally? ❜ ❨169❩ ❛ Kings are the slaves of history. ❜ ❨170❩ ❛ God is the same everywhere. ❜ ❨171❩ ❛ Pure and complete sorrow is as impossible as pure and complete joy. ❜ ❨172❩ ❛ One must be cunning and wicked in this world. ❜ ❨173❩ ❛ We love people not so much for the good they've done us, as for the good we've done them. ❜ ❨174❩ ❛ When one's head is gone one doesn't weep over one's hair! ❜ ❨175❩ ❛ For what, for whom, must I kill and be killed? ❜ ❨176❩ ❛ He did what heroes do after their work is accomplished; he died. ❜ ❨177❩ ❛ Life is too long to say anything definitely; always say perhaps. ❜ ❨178❩ ❛ Everything ends in death, everything. Death is terrible. ❜ ❨179❩ ❛ The distant and impossible suddenly became near, possible, and inevitable. ❜ ❨180❩ ❛ How often we sin, how much we deceive, and all for what? ❜ ❨181❩ ❛ The wolves should be fed and the sheep kept safe. ❜ ❨182❩ ❛ When I was a child, adults would tell me not to make things up, warning me of what would happen if I did. ❜ ❨183❩ ❛ My memory is a patchwork of occurrences, of discontinuous events roughly sewn together: the parts I remember, I remember precisely, whilst other sections seem to have vanished completely. ❜ ❨184❩ ❛ Would it be worse to love someone who is no longer there, or not to love someone who is? ❜ ❨185❩ ❛ Like mirrors stories prepare us for the day to come. They distract us from the things in darkness. ❜ ❨186❩ ❛ It is not that I was credulous, simply that I believed in all things dark and dangerous. ❜ ❨187❩ ❛ Sometimes you do things you regret, but there's nothing you can do about them. Times change. Doors close behind you. You move on. ❜ ❨188❩ ❛ Love will be an impulse that will inspire and ruin in equal measure. ❜ ❨189❩ ❛ He died alone. It don't matter a rat's ass whether there was anyone with him or not. He died alone. ❜ ❨190❩ ❛ It was love, I knew, and it tasted like champagne in my mind. ❜ ❨191❩ ❛ The end of the world is a strange concept. The world is always ending, and the end is always being averted, by love or foolishness or just plain old dumb luck. ❜ ❨192❩ ❛ She was my dream; and if you touch a dream it vanishes, like a soap bubble. ❜ ❨193❩ ❛ Daylight is always safe. ❜ ❨194❩ ❛ If not for death, they'd be content to simply exist, but with death, well, their lives will have meaning. ❜ ❨195❩ ❛ You want to know the future, love? Then wait. ❜ ❨196❩ ❛ There are things in the darkness beneath us that wish us harm. ❜ ❨197❩ ❛ Fairy tales are more than true. Not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be defeated ❜ ❨198❩ ❛ But sometimes you leave blood on your instruments. ❜ ❨199❩ ❛ I'd like to be a wolf. Not all the time. Just sometimes. In the dark. I would run through the forests. ❜ ❨200❩ ❛ You've seen them. They have mouths that twitch, and eyes that stare, and they babble and they mewl and they whimper. ❜ ❨201❩ ❛ They are not mad, or rather, the loss of their sanity is the lesser of their problems. ❜ ❨202❩ ❛ Good a reason for writing as I know: releasing demons, letting them fly. ❜ ❨203❩ ❛ That miserable state in which everything seems flat and of equal importance; when nothing matters, and in which reality seems scraped thin and threadbare. ❜ ❨204❩ ❛ Someone had scrawled graffiti in black marker on the metal: JUST DIE, it said. Like it is easy. ❜ ❨205❩ ❛ Winter started today. The sky turned grey and the snow began to fall and it did not stop falling until well after dark. ❜ ❨206❩ ❛ Memory is the great deceiver. ❜ ❨207❩ ❛ Silly things do cease to be silly if they are done by sensible people in an impudent way. ❜ ❨208❩ ❛ I may have lost my heart, but not my self-control.  ❜ ❨209❩ ❛ If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more. ❜ ❨210❩ ❛ I always deserve the best treatment because I never put up with any other. ❜ ❨211❩ ❛ But you know what I am. You hear nothing but truth from me. ❜ ❨212❩ ❛ I have blamed you, and lectured you, and you have borne it as no other would have borne it. ❜ ❨213❩ ❛ There are people, who the more you do for them, the less they will do for themselves. ❜ ❨214❩ ❛ One half of the world cannot understand the pleasures of the other. ❜ ❨215❩ ❛ Better be without sense than misapply it as you do. ❜ ❨216❩ ❛ You must be the best judge of your own happiness. ❜ ❨217❩ ❛ Were I to fall in love, indeed, it would be a different thing ; but I have never been in love ; it is not my way, or my nature ; and I do not think I ever shall. ❜ ❨218❩ ❛ Indeed, I am very sorry to be right in this instance. I would much rather have been merry than wise. ❜ ❨219❩ ❛ If I have not spoken, it is because I am afraid I will awaken myself from this dream. ❜ ❨220❩ ❛ If a woman doubts as to whether she should accept a man or not, she certainly ought to refuse him. ❜ ❨221❩ ❛ Faultless in spite of all her faults. ❜ ❨222❩ ❛ A heroine whom no one but myself will much like. ❜ ❨223❩ ❛ There is no charm equal to tenderness of heart. ❜ ❨224❩ ❛ Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, and waste its fragrance on the desert air. ❜ ❨225❩ ❛ I pity you. I thought you cleverer. ❜ ❨226❩ ❛ Evil to some is always good to others. ❜ ❨227❩ ❛ I certainly will not persuade myself to feel more than I do. ❜ ❨228❩ ❛ She is loveliness itself. ❜ ❨229❩ ❛ Time does not compose me. ❜ ❨230❩ ❛ A man always imagines a woman to be ready for anybody who asks her. ❜ ❨231❩ ❛ I do not find myself making any use of the word sacrifice. ❜ ❨232❩ ❛ I am quite enough in love. I should be sorry to be any more. ❜ ❨233❩ ❛ I must tell you what you will not ask, though I may wish it unsaid the next moment. ❜ ❨234❩ ❛ I examined my own heart. And there you were. Never, I fear, to be removed. ❜ ❨235❩ ❛ With all your little faults, you are an excellent creature. ❜ ❨236❩ ❛ You have another long walk before you. ❜ ❨237❩ ❛ The child's laughter is pure until he first laughs at a clown. ❜ ❨238❩ ❛ What is marriage but prostitution to one man instead of many? ❜ ❨239❩ ❛ Out of the frying pan into the fire! ❜ ❨240❩ ❛ We must all make do with the rags of love we find flapping on the scarecrow of humanity. ❜ ❨241❩ ❛ She sleeps. And now she wakes each day a little less. ❜ ❨242❩ ❛ And, oh, God . . . how frequently I weep! ❜ ❨243❩ ❛ From the coffin of your madness there is no escape. ❜ ❨244❩ ❛ I am feeling supernatural tonight. I want to eat diamonds. ❜ ❨245❩ ❛ All the same there is a chance that if we keep on shaking our chains, one day, some day, the clasps upon the shackles will part. ❜ ❨246❩ ❛ It was sad music fit to make you cut your throat. ❜ ❨247❩ ❛ Nothing is more boring than being forced to play. ❜ ❨248❩ ❛ Amongst the monsters, I am well hidden; who looks for a leaf in a forest? ❜ ❨249❩ ❛ Wherein does a woman’s honour reside? In her vagina or in her spirit? ❜ ❨250❩ ❛ Perhaps...I could not be content with mere contentment! ❜ ❨251❩ ❛ Have you ever stared stark failure in the face? The trick is to outstare it. ❜ ❨252❩ ❛ Sometimes it seems that the faces exist of themselves, in a disembodied somewhere, waiting for the one who will wear them, who will bring them to life. ❜ ❨253❩ ❛ I have the febrile gaiety of a being without a past, without a present, yet I exist. ❜ ❨254❩ ❛ I felt myself turning, willy-nilly, from a woman into an idea. ❜ ❨255❩ ❛ She looks wonderful, but she doesn't look right. ❜ ❨256❩ ❛ The one-eyed man will be King in the country of the blind. ❜ ❨257❩ ❛ I raised you up to fly to the heavens, not to brood over a clutch of eggs! ❜ ❨258❩ ❛ I love to hear my bones rattle. That’s how I know I’m alive. ❜ ❨259❩ ❛ I learnt, first, as the birds do, from the birds. ❜ ❨260❩ ❛ Inside and outside match exactly, but both are badly wrong. ❜ ❨261❩ ❛ During the less-than-blink of time it took the last chime to die, there came a vertiginous sensation. ❜ ❨262❩ ❛ I fear a wound not of the body but the soul, an irreconcilable division between myself and the rest of humankind. ❜ ❨263❩ ❛ I fear the proof of my own singularity. ❜ ❨264❩ ❛ Still nothing could calm the fearful storm in my erupting skin. ❜ ❨265❩ ❛ Petersburg, loveliest of all hallucinations. ❜ ❨266❩ ❛ A breathless second between black forest and the frozen sea. ❜ ❨267❩ ❛ I'm beginning to feel totally cut off from the world. ❜ ❨268❩ ❛ What does this all mean? Where are we? ❜ ❨269❩ ❛ Sometimes I bleed. ❜ ❨270❩ ❛ If you see a ghost, you say "hello". ❜ ❨271❩ ❛ The war is not over. ❜ ❨272❩ ❛ You're not going. You left us once already. ❜ ❨273❩ ❛ You can’t go! ❜ ❨274❩ ❛ I loved you, but that wasn't enough, was it? ❜ ❨275❩ ❛ If you're dead, then leave me in peace. ❜ ❨276❩ ❛ The only thing that moves here is the light, but it changes everything. ❜ ❨277❩ ❛ I won't ask for forgiveness for something I didn't do! ❜ ❨278❩ ❛ Sometimes the world of the living gets mixed up with the world of the dead. ❜ ❨279❩ ❛ Death of a loved one can lead people to do the strangest things. ❜ ❨280❩ ❛ Sooner or later, they will find you. ❜ ❨281❩ ❛ They're everywhere - they say this house is theirs. ❜ ❨282❩ ❛ You're always teasing me, and telling lies. I'm sick of it. ❜ ❨283❩ ❛ Others will come. Sometimes we'll sense them. Other times, we won't. ❜ ❨284❩ ❛ No crying now. No crying. Stop that. Here. Look what an awful face you've got when you cry. ❜ ❨285❩ ❛ You listen to me. I've seen them too. ❜ ❨286❩ ❛ You'll see. There are going to be some big surprises. There are going to be... changes. ❜ ❨287❩ ❛ Why did you go and fight that stupid war that had nothing to do with us? Why didn't you stay like the others did? ❜ ❨288❩ ❛ Your place was here with your family. ❜ ❨289❩ ❛ So you say you know this house well? ❜ ❨290❩ ❛ I wasn't expecting you so soon. ❜ ❨291❩ ❛ What's the matter? Has the cat got your tongue? ❜ ❨292❩ ❛ You mean they just vanished? Into thin air? ❜ ❨293❩ ❛ No door must be opened without the previous one being closed first. ❜ ❨294❩ ❛ Here, most of the time, you can hardly see your way. ❜ ❨295❩ ❛ Whatever you do, don't open the curtains. ❜ ❨296❩ ❛ Now, come on. Eyes closed. ❜ ❨297❩ ❛ We start off with high hopes, then we bottle it. We realise that we’re all going to die, without really finding out the big answers. ❜ ❨298❩ ❛ By definition, you have to live until you die. Better to make that life as complete and enjoyable an experience as possible, in case death is shite, which I suspect it will be. ❜ ❨299❩ ❛ I chose not to choose life. I chose somethin’ else. ❜ ❨300❩ ❛ And the reasons? There are no reasons. ❜ ❨301❩ ❛ Love does not exist, it's like religion, made to control you. ❜ ❨302❩ ❛ After all, we're not fucking stupid. At least, we're not that fucking stupid. ❜ ❨303❩ ❛ You fucking knew that fucking cunt would fuck some cunt. ❜ ❨304❩ ❛ Everything in the street today seems soft focus. ❜ ❨305❩ ❛ What does that make us? The lowest of the low. ❜ ❨306❩ ❛ Take your best orgasm, multiply the feeling by twenty, and you're still fuckin’ miles off the pace. ❜ ❨307❩ ❛ It’s as if everything is a copy of what you knew before, similar, yet somehow lacking in its usual qualities, a bit like the way things are in a dream. ❜ ❨308❩ ❛ It’s all okay, it’s all beautiful; but I fear that this internal sea is going to subside soon, leaving this poisonous shite washed up, stranded up in my body. ❜ ❨309❩ ❛ It cuts me up. It confuses me. ❜ ❨310❩ ❛ It's not funny laughter. This is lynch mob laughter. ❜ ❨311❩ ❛ Protect me from those who wish to help us. ❜ ❨312❩ ❛ They mean well, and they mean well to me, but there's no way under the sun that they can appreciate what I feel, what I need. ❜ ❨313❩ ❛ The pit of melancholy is a bottomless one, and I am descending fast. ❜ ❨314❩ ❛ Living like this is a full-time business. ❜ ❨315❩ ❛ I’ll stand or fall alone. ❜ ❨316❩ ❛ We are no wiser now than at the start. ❜ ❨317❩ ❛ This is pathetic, and fucking boring. ❜ ❨318❩ ❛ Death is usually a process, rather than an event. ❜ ❨319❩ ❛ We're ruled by effete arseholes. What does that make us? ❜ ❨320❩ ❛ We are all acquaintances now. ❜ ❨321❩ ❛ The problem is that this beautiful ocean carries with it loads of poisonous flotsam and jetsam. ❜ ❨322❩ ❛ Life is beautiful. I'm going to enjoy it, and I'm going to have a long life. ❜ ❨323❩ ❛ The grim reality of impending death can be talked away by trying to invest in the present reality of life. ❜ ❨324❩ ❛ There must be more to life than this. ❜ ❨325❩ ❛ We all see what we want to see. ❜ ❨326❩ ❛ Statistically speaking, you're more likely to be killed by a member of your own family or a close friend, than by anyone else. ❜ ❨327❩ ❛ What am I living for and what am I dying for are the same question. ❜ ❨328❩ ❛ Maybe that's what love is: it's being pissed off. ❜ ❨329❩ ❛ You can forget who you are if you're alone too much. ❜ ❨330❩ ❛ Any religion is a shadow of God. But the shadows of God are not God. ❜ ❨331❩ ❛ Human understanding is fallible, and we see through a glass, darkly.  ❜ ❨332❩ ❛ We must be a beacon of hope, because if you tell people there's nothing they can do, they will do worse than nothing. ❜ ❨333❩ ❛ Everyone wants to feel like a princess, and princesses are selfish and overbearing. ❜ ❨334❩ ❛ We shouldn't have been so scornful; we should have had compassion. But compassion takes work, and we were young. ❜ ❨335❩ ❛ How easy it is, treachery. You just slide into it. ❜ ❨336❩ ❛ Amazing how the heart clutches at anything familiar, whimpering: Mine! Mine! ❜ ❨337❩ ❛ All creatures know that some must die ; that all the rest may take and eat. ❜ ❨338❩ ❛ Is this the image of a god? My tooth for yours, your eye for mine? ❜ ❨339❩ ❛ Without the light, no chance; without the dark, no dance. ❜ ❨340❩ ❛ Why are we designed to see the world as supremely beautiful just as we're about to be snuffed? Do rabbits feel the same as the fox teeth bite down on their necks? Is it mercy? ❜ ❨341❩ ❛ Love is useless, it leads you into dumb exchanges in which you give too much away, and then you get bitter and mean. ❜ ❨342❩ ❛ Maybe sadness is a kind of hunger. Maybe the two go together. ❜ ❨343❩ ❛ Now I can see how that can happen. You can fall in love with anybody -- a fool, a criminal, a nothing. There are no good rules. ❜ ❨344❩ ❛ If you really want to stay the same age you are now forever and ever, try jumping off the roof: death's a sure-fire method for stopping time. ❜ ❨345❩ ❛ You couldn’t leave words lying around where our enemies might find them. ❜ ❨346❩ ❛ I'm fine, for the moment. And the moment is the only time we can be fine in. ❜ ❨347❩ ❛ Because if you can't wish, why bother? ❜ ❨348❩ ❛ It's better to hope than mope! ❜ ❨349❩ ❛ Reality has too much darkness in it. Too many crows. ❜ ❨350❩ ❛ In any case, time is not a thing that passes, it’s a sea on which you float. ❜ ❨351❩ ❛ I know I’m deceiving myself, but I prefer to deceive myself. I desperately need to believe such pure joy is still possible. ❜ ❨352❩ ❛ Too much God and you overdose. God needs to be filtered. ❜ ❨353❩ ❛ Behind my eyelids I saw an animal. It was golden colour, with gentle green eyes and canine teeth, and curly wool instead of fur. It opened its mouth, but it did not speak. Instead, it yawned. ❜ ❨354❩ ❛ ‘Why can't I believe?’ I asked the darkness. ❜ ❨355❩ ❛ Everyone’s too sad for everything. ❜ ❨356❩ ❛ If you can’t stop the waves, go sailing. ❜ ❨357❩ ❛ I would like to be the air that inhabits you for a moment only. I would like to be that unnoticed and that necessary. ❜ ❨358❩ ❛ Men are afraid that women will laugh at them. Women are afraid that men will kill them. ❜ ❨359❩ ❛ In the end, we'll all become stories. ❜ ❨360❩ ❛ I am inadequate and stupid, without worth. I might as well be dead. ❜ ❨361❩ ❛ If you knew what was going to happen, if you knew everything that was going to happen next—if you knew in advance the consequences of your own actions—you'd be doomed. You'd be ruined as God. ❜ ❨362❩ ❛ If you can't go through an obstacle, go around it. ❜ ❨363❩ ❛ Stupidity is the same as evil if you judge by the results. ❜ ❨364❩ ❛ Time in dreams is frozen. You can never get away from where you've been. ❜ ❨365❩ ❛ Male fantasies, male fantasies, is everything run by male fantasies? ❜ ❨366❩ ❛ We still think of a powerful man as a born leader and a powerful woman as an anomaly. ❜ ❨367❩ ❛ If I love you, is that a fact or a weapon? ❜ ❨368❩ ❛ You fit into me like a hook into an eye. ❜ ❨369❩ ❛ Knowing too much about other people puts you in their power, they have a claim on you, you are forced to understand their reasons for doing things and then you are weakened. ❜ ❨370❩ ❛ Farewells can be shattering, but returns are surely worse. ❜ ❨371❩ ❛ Women have curious ways of hurting someone else. ❜ ❨372❩ ❛ This is the one song everyone would like to learn: the song that is irresistible: the song that forces men to leap overboard in squadrons. ❜ ❨373❩ ❛ Get rid of death. Make it be spring. ❜ ❨374❩ ❛ You are innocent as a bathtub full of bullets. ❜ ❨375❩ ❛ I am the space you desecrate as you pass through. ❜ ❨376❩ ❛ Favour me and give me riches, destroy my enemies. Save me from death. ❜ ❨377❩ ❛ She is a raw voice loose in the rooms beneath me. ❜ ❨378❩ ❛ Isn't the moon warm enough for you, why do you need the blanket of another body? ❜ ❨379❩ ❛ This is a torch song. Touch me and you'll burn. ❜ ❨380❩ ❛ If you look long enough eventually you will see me. ❜ ❨381❩ ❛ I would like to sleep with you, to enter your sleep as its smooth dark wave slides over my head. ❜ ❨382❩ ❛ I would like to give you the silver branch, the small white flower, the one word that will protect you from the grief. ❜ ❨383❩ ❛ But some people can't tell where it hurts. They can't calm down. They can't ever stop howling. ❜ ❨384❩ ❛ How else can we live, these days, except in the midst of ruin? ❜ ❨385❩ ❛ What am I living for and what am I dying for are the same question. ❜ ❨386❩ ❛ Gods always come in handy, they justify almost anything. ❜ ❨387❩ ❛ We loved with a love that was more than love. ❜ ❨388❩ ❛ Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before. ❜ ❨389❩ ❛ The boundaries which divide life from death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins? ❜ ❨390❩ ❛ There is no exquisite beauty without some strangeness in the proportion. ❜ ❨391❩ ❛ Never to suffer would never to have been blessed. ❜ ❨392❩ ❛ Believe only half of what you see and nothing that you hear. ❜ ❨393❩ ❛ And all I loved, I loved alone. ❜ ❨394❩ ❛ Years of love have been forgot, in the hatred of a minute. ❜ ❨395❩ ❛ The best things in life make you sweaty. ❜ ❨396❩ ❛ There are some secrets which do not permit themselves to be told. ❜ ❨397❩ ❛ Anything is better than this agony. ❜ ❨398❩ ❛ You fancy me mad. ❜ ❨399❩ ❛ I hear all things in the heaven and in the earth. ❜ ❨400❩ ❛ Who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery? ❜ ❨401❩ ❛ Leave my loneliness unbroken! ❜ ❨402❩ ❛ A more than fiendish malevolence, gin-nurtured, thrills every fibre of my frame. ❜ ❨403❩ ❛ The fury of a demon instantly possessed me. I knew myself no longer. ❜ ❨404❩ ❛ Let my heart be still a moment. ❜ ❨405❩ ❛ You call it hope —  It is but agony of desire. ❜ ❨406❩ ❛ Who has not, a hundred times, found himself committing a vile or silly action for no other reason than because he knows he should not? ❜ ❨407❩ ❛ To die laughing must be the most glorious of all glorious deaths! ❜ ❨408❩ ❛ The beating of a drum stimulates the soldier into courage. ❜ ❨409❩ ❛ Oh what a tangled web we weave when first we practise to deceive. ❜ ❨410❩ ❛ I have been happy, though in a dream. ❜ ❨411❩ ❛ Nevermore. ❜ ❨412❩ ❛ The truth is, I am heartily sick of this life. ❜ ❨413❩ ❛ I am convinced that every thing is going wrong. ❜ ❨414❩ ❛ The scariest monsters are the ones that lurk within our souls. ❜ ❨415❩ ❛ And if I died, at least I will have died for you! ❜ ❨416❩ ❛ It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain; but once conceived, it haunted me day and night. ❜ ❨417❩ ❛ Hurt and humiliation — But this, I can not take. ❜ ❨418❩ ❛ The walls in there have ears. ❜ ❨419❩ ❛ This is for your ears only. ❜ ❨420❩ ❛ What is it? You have me scared. ❜ ❨421❩ ❛ Whoever isn’t for us, is against us. ❜ ❨422❩ ❛ You are just a body; to be dumped, disposed of like a carcass, left out for the birds to feed on. ❜ ❨423❩ ❛ The dead will have to forgive me. ❜ ❨424❩ ❛ From now on and no matter how your mind may I change, I will not accept your help. ❜ ❨425❩ ❛ If death comes, so be it. There will be glory in it. ❜ ❨426❩ ❛ Live, then; and live with your choice. ❜ ❨427❩ ❛ I am doing what has to be done. ❜ ❨428❩ ❛ Nothing is going to stop the ones that love you from keeping on loving you. ❜ ❨429❩ ❛ Worst is the man who has all the good advice, and then because his nerve fails, fails to act in accordance with it, as a leader should. ❜ ❨430❩ ❛ Only a loony would walk himself into this. ❜ ❨431❩ ❛ Why do you need such fences and defences? ❜ ❨432❩ ❛ Enough. Do not anger me. ❜ ❨433❩ ❛ The gods, you think, will side with the likes of him? ❜ ❨434❩ ❛ Watch it. You are over stepping. ❜ ❨435❩ ❛ I warn you. You should keep a civil tongue. ❜ ❨436❩ ❛ There is no such thing as an oath the can not be broken. ❜ ❨437❩ ❛ Every now and then, the things you’d hardly let yourself imagine, actually happen. ❜ ❨438❩ ❛ And you stand over this? This is the truth? ❜ ❨439❩ ❛ The bigger the resistance, the bigger the collapse. ❜ ❨440❩ ❛ Iron that’s forged the hardest, snaps the quickest. ❜ ❨441❩ ❛ Even the wildest horses come to heel when they are reined & bitted right. ❜ ❨442❩ ❛ That’s how guilt affects some people. They break and everything comes out. ❜ ❨443❩ ❛ Will it be enough for you? To see me executed? ❜ ❨444❩ ❛ So you know something no one else knows? ❜ ❨445❩ ❛ They know it too. They are just too afraid to say it. ❜ ❨446❩ ❛ If you die, how will I keep on living? ❜ ❨447❩ ❛ There was a star riding through clouds one night, & I said to the star, 'Consume me'. ❜ ❨448❩ ❛ How much better to sit by myself like the solitary sea-bird that opens its wings on the stake. ❜ ❨449❩ ❛ Alone, I often fall down into nothingness. I have to bang my head against some hard door to call myself back to the body. ❜ ❨450❩ ❛ I am made and remade continually. Different people draw different words from me. ❜ ❨451❩ ❛ For this moment, this one moment, we are together.  ❜ ❨452❩ ❛ Come, pain, feed on me. Bury your fangs in my flesh. Tear me asunder. ❜ ❨453❩ ❛ I am as neat as a cat in my habits. ❜ ❨454❩ ❛ Everything falls in a tremendous shower, dissolving me. ❜ ❨455❩ ❛ I am the foam that sweeps and fills the uttermost rims of the rocks with whiteness; I am also a girl, here in this room. ❜ ❨456❩ ❛ We are cut, we are fallen. We are become part of that unfeeling universe ❨457❩ that sleeps when we are at our quickest and burns red when we lie ❨458❩ asleep. ❜ ❨459❩ ❛ These moments of escape are not to be despised. They come too seldom. ❜ ❨460❩ ❛ Up here my eyes are green leaves, unseeing. ❜ ❨461❩ ❛ The moment is all; the moment is enough. ❜ ❨462❩ ❛ I do not want to be admired. I want to give, to be given. ❜ ❨463❩ ❛ I am not one and simple, but complex and many. ❜ ❨464❩ ❛ And if you are dead, I shall weep. ❜ ❨465❩ ❛ But beauty must be broken daily to remain beautiful. ❜ ❨466❩ ❛ But our hatred is almost indistinguishable from our love. ❜ ❨467❩ ❛ I desired always to stretch the night and fill it fuller and fuller with dreams. ❜ ❨468❩ ❛ Life is a dream surely. ❜ ❨469❩ ❛ I think sometimes I am not a woman, but the light that falls on this gate, on this ground. I am the seasons, I think sometimes, January, May, November; the mud, the mist, the dawn. ❜ ❨470❩ ❛ Oh, I am in love with life! ❜ ❨471❩ ❛ I have been knotted; I have been torn apart. ❜ ❨472❩ ❛ There was no freedom in life, and certainly there was none in death. ❜ ❨473❩ ❛ I do not know. I do not know myself sometimes, or how to measure and name and count out the grains that make me what I am. ❜ ❨474❩ ❛ I ride rough waters, and shall sink with no one to save me. ❜ ❨475❩ ❛ I am above the earth now. I am no longer upright, to be knocked against and damaged. ❜ ❨476❩ ❛ I see it all. I feel it all. ❜ ❨477❩ ❛ Death is woven in with the violets. Death and again death. ❜ ❨478❩ ❛ We have been walking for hours it seems. But where? I cannot remember. ❜ ❨479❩ ❛ If we were all on trial for our thoughts, we would all be hanged. ❜ ❨480❩ ❛ When you are in the middle of a story it isn't a story at all, but only a confusion; a dark roaring, a blindness, a wreckage of shattered glass. ❜ ❨481❩ ❛ Murderess is a strong word to have attached to you. It has a smell to it, that word; - musky and oppressive, like dead flowers in a vase.  ❜ ❨482❩ ❛ Sometimes at night I whisper it over to myself: Murderess, murderess. It rustles, like a taffeta skirt across the floor. ❜ ❨483❩ ❛ If the world treats you well, you come to believe you are deserving of it. ❜ ❨484❩ ❛ If I am good enough and quiet enough, perhaps after all they will let me go. ❜ ❨485❩ ❛ It’s not easy being quiet and good, it’s like hanging on to the edge of a bridge when you’ve already fallen over; you don’t seem to be moving, just dangling there, and yet it is taking all your strength. ❜ ❨486❩ ❛ There is no fool like an educated fool. ❜ ❨487❩ ❛ There are many dangerous things that may take place in a bed. ❜ ❨488❩ ❛ I am afraid of falling into hopeless despair, over my wasted life, and I am still not sure how it happened. ❜ ❨489❩ ❛ Underneath it all is another feeling, a feeling of being wide-eyed awake and watchful. ❜ ❨490❩ ❛ And underneath all that is another feeling still, a feeling like being torn open; not like a body of flesh, it is not painful as such, but like a peach; and not even torn open, but ripe and splitting open of its own accord.  ❜ ❨491❩ ❛ The small details of life often hide a great significance. ❜ ❨492❩ ❛ Guilt comes to you not from the things you've done, but from the things that others have done to you. ❜ ❨493❩ ❛ I wonder, how can I be all of these different things at once? ❜ ❨494❩ ❛ It is always a mistake to curse back openly at those who are stronger than you unless there is a fence between. ❜ ❨495❩ ❛ Some call this "Eve's curse," but I think that is stupid because the real curse of Eve was having to put up with the nonsense of Adam. ❜ ❨496❩ ❛ I don't know why they are all so eager to be remembered. What good will it do them? There are some things that should be forgotten by everyone, and never spoken of again. ❜ ❨497❩ ❛ I would never blame a human creature for feeling lonely. ❜ ❨498❩ ❛ If they want a monster so badly they ought to be provided by one. ❜ ❨499❩ ❛ It’s as if I never existed, because no trace of me remains, I have left no marks. And that way I cannot be followed. It is almost the same as being innocent. ❜ ❨500❩ ❛ Today you wear your habitual expression of strained anxiety; you smell of violets. ❜ ❨501❩ ❛ Of course you have always been an idealist, and filled with your optimistic dreams; but reality must at some time obtrude. ❜ ❨502❩ ❛ I wonder what would become of me, and comfort myself that in a hundred years I will be dead and at peace. ❜ ❨503❩ ❛ For it is not always the one that strikes the blow that is the actual murderer. ❜ ❨504❩ ❛ There is a “do this” or “do that” with God, but not any “because”. ❜ ❨505❩ ❛ If you have a need and they find it out, they will use it against you. The best way is to stop from wanting anything. ❜ ❨506❩ ❛ They say, why don’t you ever smile or laugh, we never see you smiling, and I say I suppose I have gotten out of the way of it, my face won’t bend in that direction any more. ❜ ❨507❩ ❛ I was shut up inside that doll of myself, and my true voice could not get out. ❜ ❨508❩ ❛ I see what you’re after. You are a collector. You think all you have to do is give me an apple, and then you can collect me. ❜ ❨509❩ ❛ If you want to be an asshole, it's a free country. Millions before you have made the same life choice. ❜ ❨510❩ ❛ Then there's the future. Sheer vertigo. ❜ ❨511❩ ❛ Nature is to zoos as God is to churches. ❜ ❨512❩ ❛ After everything that's happened, how can the world still be so beautiful? ❜ ❨513❩ ❛ There's something to be said for hunger: at least it lets you know you're still alive. ❜ ❨514❩ ❛ These things sneak up on me for no reason, these flashes of irrational happiness. It's probably a vitamin deficiency. ❜ ❨515❩ ❛ Toast cannot be explained by any rational means. Toast is me. I am toast. ❜ ❨516❩ ❛ You can’t buy it, but it has a price. Everything has a price. ❜ ❨517❩ ❛ As a species were doomed by hope, then? You could call it hope. That, or desperation. ❜ ❨518❩ ❛ I am not my childhood. ❜ ❨519❩ ❛ Human beings hope they can stick their souls into someone else and live on forever. ❜ ❨520❩ ❛ “I'll make you mine”, lovers said in old books. They never said, “I'll make you me.” ❜ ❨521❩ ❛ How much is too much, how far is too far? ❜ ❨522❩ ❛ Expectation isn't the same as desire. ❜ ❨523❩ ❛ Why not cut to the chase? ❜ ❨524❩ ❛ Maybe there aren't any solutions. Human society, corpses and rubble. ❜ ❨525❩ ❛ I thought you didn’t believe in God. ❜ ❨526❩ ❛ I need at least the illusion of being understood. ❜ ❨527❩ ❛ What change would have altered the course of events? In the big picture, nothing. In the small picture, so much. ❜ ❨528❩ ❛ You are only looking at the dirt under your feet. It's not good for you. ❜ ❨529❩ ❛ I like to keep only the bright side of myself turned towards you.  ❜ ❨530❩ ❛ Grief in the face of inevitable death. The wish to stop time. The human condition. ❜ ❨531❩ ❛ So many crucial events take place behind people’s backs, when they aren’t in a position to watch: birth and death, for instance. ❜ ❨532❩ ❛ Would you kill someone you loved to spare them pain? ❜ ❨533❩ ❛ When the water’s moving faster than the boat, you can’t control a thing. ❜ ❨534❩ ❛ Don't be so fucking sentimental. ❜ ❨535❩ ❛ Wrong, as usual. ❜ ❨536❩ ❛ Why do you want to talk about ugly things? ❜ ❨537❩ ❛ I understand why serial killers send helpful clues to the police. ❜ ❨538❩ ❛ Take your time, leave mine alone. ❜ ❨539❩ ❛ You will hear thunder and remember me. ❜ ❨540❩ ❛ If you were music, I would listen to you ceaselessly. ❜ ❨541❩ ❛ I seem to myself an accidental guest in this dreadful body. ❜ ❨542❩ ❛ Call me a sinner, mock me maliciously. ❜ ❨543❩ ❛ I, from the very beginning, seemed to myself like someone's dream or delirium. Or a reflection in someone else's mirror. Without flesh, without meaning, without a name. ❜ ❨544❩ ❛ I knew the list of crimes that I was destined to commit. ❜ ❨545❩ ❛ The future ripens in the past, so the past rots in the future. ❜ ❨546❩ ❛ You are untranslatable into any one tongue. ❜ ❨547❩ ❛ I was hoping my silence would fit yours. ❜ ❨548❩ ❛ See, we were never about butterflies. All about us is unearthly and radiant. ❜ ❨549❩ ❛ You do not know just what you've been forgiven. ❜ ❨550❩ ❛ I need to slaughter my memory.  ❜ ❨551❩ ❛ Forgive me that I appeared to you in waking dreams. ❜ ❨552❩ ❛ I will condemn, I will forget, I will give comfort to the enemy. ❜ ❨553❩ ❛ I know beginnings, I know endings too, and life-in-death. ❜ ❨554❩ ❛ Wild honey smells of freedom. But gold smells of nothing. ❜ ❨555❩ ❛ You are three times more beautiful than angels. ❜ ❨556❩ ❛ I will kill you without spilling your blood on the ground, not touching you with my hand, not giving you one glance. ❜ ❨557❩ ❛ You invented me. There is no such earthly being. ❜ ❨558❩ ❛ You’re late. Way too late. I’m glad to see you, nonetheless. ❜ ❨559❩ ❛ Forgive me that I felt forsaken. Forgive me that I kept mistaking too many others for you. ❜ ❨560❩ ❛ Real tenderness can’t be confused, it’s quiet and can’t be heard. ❜ ❨561❩ ❛ What else lived in that house besides us? ❜ ❨562❩ ❛ How unhappy we are together! ❜ ❨563❩ ❛ I defend not my voice, but my silence. ❜ ❨564❩ ❛ Without love, I'm more at ease, I'm sure. ❜ ❨565❩ ❛ I've got no more tears or explanations. ❜ ❨566❩ ❛ I’m not complaining. Happiness is not for me. ❜ ❨567❩ ❛ Are you not the only tie between good and evil, earthly pits and paradise? ❜ ❨568❩ ❛ In the morning we shall find out who has died in the night. ❜ ❨569❩ ❛ I was not a lovable child, and I've grown into a deeply unlovable adult. ❜ ❨570❩ ❛ The truly frightening flaw in humanity is our capacity for cruelty - we all have it. ❜ ❨571❩ ❛ I have a meanness inside me, real as an organ. Slit me at my belly and it might slide out, meaty and dark. ❜ ❨572❩ ❛ I am not angry or sad or happy to see you. I could not give a shit. You don't even ripple. ❜ ❨573❩ ❛ I was raised feral, and I mostly stayed that way. ❜ ❨574❩ ❛ I can feel a better version of me somewhere in there - hidden behind a liver or attached to a bit of spleen. But the meanness usually wins out. ❜ ❨575❩ ❛ I felt something loosen in me, that shouldn't have loosened. A stitch come undone. ❜ ❨576❩ ❛ Everyone who keeps a secret, itches to tell it. ❜ ❨577❩ ❛ Coffee goes great with sudden death. ❜ ❨578❩ ❛ I should just listen to my gut and then do the opposite. ❜ ❨579❩ ❛ “Smile, it can't be that bad!” Yeah, actually, it can, jackwad. ❜ ❨580❩ ❛ Everything bad in the world already did happen. ❜ ❨581❩ ❛ You’re going to find peace? Like knowing is somehow going to fix you? ❜ ❨582❩ ❛ Instead of asking yourself what happened, just accept that it happened. ❜ ❨583❩ ❛ Homesick for a place I've never been. ❜ ❨584❩ ❛ Worries find you easily enough without inviting them. ❜ ❨585❩ ❛ It is always consoling to think of suicide. It's what gets one through many a bad night. ❜ ❨586❩ ❛ Do you understand this is serious? ❜ ❨587❩ ❛ Sometimes it feels good to fuck with something. Instead of always being fucked with. ❜ ❨588❩ ❛ How could you kill something you cared enough to name? ❜ ❨589❩ ❛ Draw a picture of my soul, and it’d be a scribble with fangs. ❜ ❨590❩ ❛ We have the same chemicals in our blood: shame, anger, greed. Unjustified nostalgia. ❜ ❨591❩ ❛ I appreciate a straightforward apology the way a tone-deaf person enjoys a fine piece of music. ❜ ❨592❩ ❛ The phrase fuck you may not rest on the tip of my tongue, but it’s near. Midtongue. ❜ ❨593❩ ❛ Nothing to it but to do it. ❜ ❨594❩ ❛ There are a lot of people who deserve a lesson, deserve to really understand, that nothing comes easy, that most things are going to go sour. ❜ ❨595❩ ❛ If ifs and buts were candies and nuts we’d all have a very Merry Christmas. ❜ ❨596❩ ❛ Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change. ❜ ❨597❩ ❛ What does it do to a girl who knows her mother is a murderer? ❜ ❨598❩ ❛ That mean old bitch across the street bit it. ❜ ❨599❩ ❛ Survival is a talent. ❜ ❨600❩ ❛ Crazy isn't being broken or swallowing a dark secret. It’s you or me amplified. If you ever told a lie and enjoyed it. If you ever wished you could be a child forever. ❜ ❨601❩ ❛ Who has the courage to burn themselves? ❜ ❨602❩ ❛ Is insanity just a matter of dropping the act? ❜ ❨603❩ ❛ Have you ever confused a dream with life? Or stolen something when you have the cash? Have you ever been blue? Or thought your train moving while sitting still? ❜ ❨604❩ ❛ You need to be well fed, clothed, and housed to have time for this much self-pity. ❜ ❨605❩ ❛ When I am supposed to be awake, I am asleep; when I am supposed to speak, I am silent. When a pleasure offers itself to me, I avoid it. ❜ ❨606❩ ❛ There is thought, and then there is thinking about thoughts, and they don't feel the same. ❜ ❨607❩ ❛ In a strange way we are free. We've reached the end of the line. We have nothing more to lose. ❜ ❨608❩ ❛ The world won’t stop because we aren’t in it anymore. ❜ ❨609❩ ❛ I can't answer the real question. All I can tell you is, it's easy. ❜ ❨610❩ ❛ I am lighter, airier than I’ve been in years. ❜ ❨611❩ ❛ I am not dead, yet something in me definitely is. ❜ ❨612❩ ❛ You meant that as an insult but I am taking it as a compliment. ❜ ❨613❩ ❛ What life can recover from that? ❜ ❨614❩ ❛ It's a fairly accurate portrait of me. It's accurate but it isn't profound. ❜ ❨615❩ ❛ Pull yourself together! There's nothing wrong with you. ❜ ❨616❩ ❛ It's quiet. It's like― I don't know. It's like falling off a cliff. ❜ ❨617❩ ❛ Once you start parsing a face, it's a peculiar item: squishy, pointy, with lots of air vents and wet spots. ❜ ❨618❩ ❛ I lost him. I did it on purpose. ❜ ❨619❩ ❛ It’s a mean world. There’s nobody to take care of you out there. ❜ ❨620❩ ❛ Reality is getting too dense. ❜ ❨621❩ ❛ I'm ambivalent. In fact that's my new favourite word. ❜ ❨622❩ ❛ I can't come up with reassuring answers to the terrible questions you raise. ❜ ❨623❩ ❛ A spring day, the sort that gives people hope: all soft winds and delicate smells of warm earth. Suicide weather. ❜ ❨624❩ ❛ Twenty-five chocolate chip cookies would be the perfect dinner. ❜ ❨625❩ ❛ A thought is a hard thing to control. ❜ ❨626❩ ❛ Life demands skills I don’t have. ❜ ❨627❩ ❛ Light like this does not exist, but we wish it did. We wish the sun could make us young and beautiful. Most of all, we wish that everyone we knew could be brightened simply by our looking at them. ❜ ❨628❩ ❛ It never stops, even at night, it’s my lullaby. ❜ ❨629❩ ❛ Love blurs your vision; but after it recedes, you can see more clearly than ever. ❜ ❨630❩ ❛ This is the kind of thing you see if you sit in the darkness with open eyes. ❜ ❨631❩ ❛ I have done something wrong, something so huge I can't even see it, something that's drowning me. ❜ ❨632❩ ❛ Whatever is happening to me is my own fault. ❜ ❨633❩ ❛ Hatred is easier. Hatred is clear, metallic, one-handed, unwavering; unlike love. ❜ ❨634❩ ❛ Potential has a shelf life. ❜ ❨635❩ ❛ Don’t move. Stay like that, let me have that. ❜ ❨636❩ ❛ I have come to the edge, of the land. I could get pushed over. ❜ ❨637❩ ❛ Never pray for justice, because you might get some. ❜ ❨638❩ ❛ It disturbs me to learn I have hurt someone unintentionally. I want all my hurts to be intentional. ❜ ❨639❩ ❛ We have been shark to one another, but also lifeboat. That counts for something. ❜ ❨640❩ ❛ This is what I miss, not something that’s gone, but something that will never happen. ❜ ❨641❩ ❛ I am not good. I know too much to be good. I know myself. I know myself to be vengeful, greedy, secretive and sly. ❜ ❨642❩ ❛ You are amazing. Amazing and agonising and almost lethal. ❜ ❨643❩ ❛ In my dreams of this city I am always lost. ❜ ❨644❩ ❛ I don't know where these feelings have come from, I don’t know what I've done. ❜ ❨645❩ ❛ I am not the centre of your story, you are.  ❜ ❨646❩ ❛ I’m mad because you’re an asshole. ❜ ❨647❩ ❛ It's enormously pleasing to me, walking away. It's like being able to make people appear and vanish, at will. ❜ ❨648❩ ❛ There is never only one of anyone. ❜ ❨649❩ ❛ I can't do this without feeling I'm acting. ❜ ❨650❩ ❛ I am prepared for almost anything; except absence, except silence. ❜ ❨651❩ ❛ I’m losing my appetite for strangers. ❜ ❨652❩ ❛ You wear your cravings on the outside, like the suckers on a squid. You want it all. ❜ ❨653❩ ❛ Knowing too much about other people weakens you. You are forced to understand their reasons for doing things. ❜ ❨654❩ ❛ I have lost confidence: perhaps all I will ever be is what I am now. ❜ ❨655❩ ❛ Echoes of light, shining out of the midst of nothing. It's old light, and there's not much of it. But it's enough to see by. ❜ ❨656❩ ❛ Whoever cares the most will lose. ❜ ❨657❩ ❛ Young women need unfairness, it’s one of their few defences.  ❜ ❨658❩ ❛ Time has gone on without you. ❜ ❨659❩ ❛ Don't let the bastards grind you down. ❜ ❨660❩ ❛ Who can remember pain, once it’s over? Pain marks you, but too deep to see. Out of sight, out of mind. ❜ ❨661❩ ❛ Better never means better for everyone. It always means worse, for some. ❜ ❨662❩ ❛ There is more than one kind of freedom. Freedom to and freedom from. ❜ ❨663❩ ❛ Remember that forgiveness too is a power. ❜ ❨664❩ ❛ I am not your justification for existence. ❜ ❨665❩ ❛ I want to be valued, in ways that I am not; I want to be more than valuable. ❜ ❨666❩ ❛ If it's a story I'm telling, then I have control over the ending. ❜ ❨667❩ ❛ All you have to do is keep your mouth shut and look stupid. It shouldn't be that hard. ❜ ❨668❩ ❛ Truly amazing, what people can get used to, as long as there are a few compensations. ❜ ❨669❩ ❛ I want everything back, the way it was. ❜ ❨670❩ ❛ You can't help what you feel, but you can help how you behave. ❜ ❨671❩ ❛ Nothing changes instantaneously: in a gradually heating bathtub you'd be boiled to death before you knew it. ❜ ❨672❩ ❛ To want is to have a weakness. ❜ ❨673❩ ❛ There isn't even an enemy you could put your finger on. ❜ ❨674❩ ❛ The past is a great darkness, filled with echoes. ❜ ❨675❩ ❛ Ordinary is what you are used to. This may not seem ordinary to you now, but after a time it will. It will become ordinary. ❜ ❨676❩ ❛ I wish this story were different. I wish it were more civilised. I wish it showed me in a better light. ❜ ❨677❩ ❛ The night is mine, my own time, to do with it as I will, as long as I am quiet. As long as I don't move. As long as I lie still. ❜ ❨678❩ ❛ By telling you anything at all I'm at least believing in you. ❜ ❨679❩ ❛ Whatever is silenced will clamour to be heard. ❜ ❨680❩ ❛ Don't worry about forgiving me right now. There are more important things. ❜ ❨681❩ ❛ Keep the others safe. Don't let them suffer too much. If they have to die, let it be fast. ❜ ❨682❩ ❛ The body is so easily damaged, so easily disposed of, water and chemicals is all it is, hardly more to it than a jellyfish, drying on sand. ❜ ❨683❩ ❛ The world is full of weapons if you're looking for them. ❜ ❨684❩ ❛ Nobody's heart is perfect. ❜ ❨685❩ ❛ One false move and I'm dead. ❜ ❨686❩ ❛ Watch out. I've got my eye on you. ❜ ❨687❩ ❛ Fear is a powerful stimulant. ❜ ❨688❩ ❛ I couldn't afford to lose you. ❜ ❨689❩ ❛ Name one hero who was happy. ---- You can’t. ❜ ❨690❩ ❛ I feel like I could eat the world raw. ❜ ❨691❩ ❛ We are like gods at the dawning of the world. ❜ ❨692❩ ❛ I could recognise him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world. ❜ ❨693❩ ❛ There are no bargains between lion and men. I will kill you and eat you raw. ❜ ❨694❩ ❛ You can use a spear as a walking stick, but that will not change its nature. ❜ ❨695❩ ❛ He is a weapon, a killer. Do not forget it. ❜ ❨696❩ ❛ Some men gain glory after they die, others fade. ❜ ❨697❩ ❛ I am made of memories. ❜ ❨698❩ ❛ Will you come with me? ❜ ❨699❩ ❛ I wish I had let you all die. ❜ ❨700❩ ❛ It is right to seek peace for the dead. You and I both know there is no peace for those who live after. ❜ ❨701❩ ❛ Bury us. Let us be free. ❜ ❨702❩ ❛ Go. He waits for you. ❜ ❨703❩ ❛ Nothing could eclipse the stain of this dirty, mortal mediocrity. ❜ ❨704❩ ❛ I know I have told you of this. ❜ ❨705❩ ❛ I don't know how you remember them all. I swear they look the same to me. ❜ ❨706❩ ❛ Perhaps you should get some new stories, so I don’t fucking kill myself of boredom. ❜ ❨707❩ ❛ I yearn for the darkness and silence of the underworld, where I can rest. ❜ ❨708❩ ❛ There is no honour in betraying your friends. ❜ ❨709❩ ❛ There is no answer. Whichever you choose, you are wrong. ❜ ❨710❩ ❛ Divine blood flows differently. ❜ ❨711❩ ❛ How is there glory in taking life? We die so easily. ❜ ❨712❩ ❛ This is what I will miss, I think. I will kill myself rather than miss it. ❜ ❨713❩ ❛ How long do we have? ❜ ❨714❩ ❛ Do you think we fight hopeless wars? ❜ ❨715❩ ❛ There is no law that gods must be fair. ❜ ❨716❩ ❛ I do not fear ridicule. I never have. ❜ ❨717❩ ❛ You were always better with words than I. ❜ ❨718❩ ❛ Who can be ashamed to lose to such beauty? ❜ ❨719❩ ❛ When you see beauty in desolation it changes something inside you. ❜ ❨720❩ ❛ That's how the madness of the world tries to colonise you: from the outside in, forcing you to live in its reality. ❜ ❨721❩ ❛ The shadows of the abyss are like the petals of a monstrous flower that shall blossom within the skull and expand the mind beyond what any man can bear. ❜ ❨722❩ ❛ Silence creates violence. ❜ ❨723❩ ❛ Some questions will ruin you if you are denied the answer long enough. ❜ ❨724❩ ❛ There are certain kinds of connections that are so deep that when broken you feel the snap of it inside you. ❜ ❨725❩ ❛ Nothing that ever lived and breathed was truly objective—even in a vacuum, even if all that possessed the brain was a self-immolating desire for the truth. ❜ ❨726❩ ❛ We all live in a kind of continuous dream. ❜ ❨727❩ ❛ You can either waste time worrying about a death that might not come or concentrate on what’s left to you. ❜ ❨728❩ ❛ What can you do when your five senses are not enough? ❜ ❨729❩ ❛ We will neither be what we had been nor what we would become once we reach our destination. ❜ ❨730❩ ❛ Perhaps my only real expertise, my only talent, is to endure beyond the endurable. ❜ ❨731❩ ❛ When you are too close to the centre of a mystery there is no way to pull back. ❜ ❨732❩ ❛ I long ago stopped believing in promises. Biological imperatives, yes. Environmental factors, yes. Promises, no. ❜ ❨733❩ ❛ I look not for shooting stars but for fixed ones, and I try to imagine what kind of life lives in those celestial tidal pools so far from us. ❜ ❨734❩ ❛ I hesitated for just a moment. Some part of me wanted to see the creature, I think. If so, it was a very small part. I ran. ❜ ❨735❩ ❛ I don’t require any of this to have a deeper meaning. ❜ ❨736❩ ❛ All of this speculation is incomplete, inexact, inaccurate, useless. ❜ ❨737❩ ❛ We don’t have real answers, because we still don’t know what questions to ask. Our instruments are useless, our methodology broken, our motivations selfish. ❜ ❨738❩ ❛ This part I will do alone. Don’t follow. ❜ ❨739❩ ❛ People my entire life have told me I am too much in control, but that has never been the case. I have never truly been in control. ❜ ❨740❩ ❛ Has there always been someone like me to bury the bodies, to have regrets, to carry on after everyone else was dead? ❜ ❨741❩ ❛ I loved them, but I didn’t need them, and I thought that was the way it was supposed to be. ❜ ❨742❩ ❛ Places can impress themselves upon me, and I can become part of them with ease. ❜ ❨743❩ ❛ There is no one with me. I am all by myself. ❜ ❨744❩ ❛ Pretending often leads to becoming a reasonable facsimile of what you mimic. ❜ ❨745❩ ❛ I think you're confusing suicide with self-destruction, and they're very different. Almost none of us commit suicide, whereas almost all of us self-destruct. ❜ ❨746❩ ❛ What did you eat? You had rations for only two weeks. You were there for nearly four months. ❜ ❨747❩ ❛ Something here is making giant waves in the gene pool. ❜ ❨748❩ ❛ I need to know what’s inside. ❜ ❨749❩ ❛ These aren't decisions. They're impulses ❜ ❨750❩ ❛ What do you think I do when you’re away? Do you think I’m out in the garden pinning, looking up at the sky? ❜ ❨751❩ ❛ If I know what’s happened I can save their life. ❜ ❨752❩ ❛ They either went crazy or something in here killed them. ❜ ❨753❩ ❛ Something is coming through the fence! ❜ ❨754❩ ❛ Nothing is written in the stars. Not these stars, nor any others. No one controls your destiny. ❜ ❨755❩ ❛ People who claim that they're evil are usually no worse than the rest of us. ❜ ❨756❩ ❛ Happy endings are still endings. ❜ ❨757❩ ❛ We believe in all sorts of things that aren't true; -- we call it history. ❜ ❨758❩ ❛ Does the devil ever struggle to be good again, or if so is he not a devil? ❜ ❨759❩ ❛ In the lives of children, pumpkins turn into coaches, mice and rats turn into men. When we grow up, we realise it is far more common for men to turn into rats. ❜ ❨760❩ ❛ Girls need cold anger. They need the cold simmer, the ceaseless grudge, the talent to avoid forgiveness, the side stepping of compromise.  ❜ ❨761❩ ❛ Love makes hunters of us all. ❜ ❨762❩ ❛ There is much to hate in this world and way too much to love. ❜ ❨763❩ ❛ You confuse not speaking with not listening. ❜ ❨764❩ ❛ As long as people are going to call you a lunatic anyway, why not get the benefit of it? It liberates you from convention. ❜ ❨765❩ ❛ The eye is always caught by light, but shadows have more to say. ❜ ❨766❩ ❛ Not everyone is born a witch or a saint. Not everyone is born talented, or crooked, or blessed; some are born definite in no particular at all. ❜ ❨767❩ ❛ We are a fountain of shimmering contradictions, most of us. ❜ ❨768❩ ❛ The wickedness of men is that their power breeds stupidity and blindness. ❜ ❨769❩ ❛ I know you don't want to hear this but someone has to say it! You are out of control! ❜ ❨770❩ ❛ Even at the very worst - there is always choice. ❜ ❨771❩ ❛ Maybe the definition of home is the place where you are never forgiven. So you may always belong there, bound by guilt. And maybe the cost of belonging is worth it. ❜ ❨772❩ ❛ Cross a man and you struggle, one of you wins, you adjust and go on -- or you lie there dead. Cross a woman and the entire universe is changed. ❜ ❨773❩ ❛ That was such a wonderful time, even in its strangeness and sadness. Life isn't the same now. It's wonderful, but it isn't the same. ❜ ❨774❩ ❛ I don't care for approval, and I don't mind doing without. ❜ ❨775❩ ❛ It's where I live. A permanent state of bereavement. This is nothing new. ❜ ❨776❩ ❛ Always the bridesmaid, never the bride. Always the godfather, never the god. ❜ ❨777❩ ❛ The world unwraps itself to you, again and again as soon as you are ready to see it anew. ❜ ❨778❩ ❛ Evil is an act, not an appetite. Everyone has the appetite. If you give in to it, that act is evil. The appetite is normal. ❜ ❨779❩ ❛ How many haven't wanted to slash the throat of some boor across the dining room table?  ❜ ❨780❩ ❛ Even God used silence as a strategy. ❜ ❨781❩ ❛ I learned failure early and mastered it. ❜ ❨782❩ ❛ It isn't whether you do it well or ill, it's that you do it all. ❜ ❨783❩ ❛ This is why you shouldn't fall in love, it blinds you. Love is a very wicked distraction. ❜ ❨784❩ ❛ Wisdom is not the understanding of mystery. Wisdom is accepting that mystery is beyond understanding. That's what makes it mystery. ❜ ❨785❩ ❛ Wrong takes an awful long time to be proven, in my experience. ❜ ❨786❩ ❛ Such brightness, as you know, decays brilliantly. ❜ ❨787❩ ❛ I take responsibility only for the future, not the past. The past can't hurt you the way the future can. ❜ ❨788❩ ❛ Tell me to mind my own business, tell me to go fuck myself, to piss off, go on, say it, but don’t tell me nothing’s wrong. ❜ ❨789❩ ❛ The truth isn't a thing of fact or reason. It is simply what everyone agrees on. ❜ ❨790❩ ❛ One can't make peace with another by force. ❜ ❨791❩ ❛ I am a forgettable leaf on a tree. ❜ ❨792❩ ❛ That's all I want; --- to do no harm. ❜ ❨793❩ ❛ I only believe in the opposite of luck, whatever that is. ❜ ❨794❩ ❛ Human beings are not born once and for all on the day their mothers give birth to them, life obliges them over and over again to give birth to themselves. ❜ ❨795❩ ❛ You’re too young to know that the heart's memory eliminates the bad and magnifies the good, and thanks to that we manage to endure the burden of the past. ❜ ❨796❩ ❛ Love, no matter what else it might be, is a natural talent. You are either born knowing how, or you never know. ❜ ❨797❩ ❛ Whatever you do, you will be sorry all the rest of your life. ❜ ❨798❩ ❛ There is no God worth worrying about. ❜ ❨799❩ ❛ The only regret I will have in dying is if it is not for love. ❜ ❨800❩ ❛ Wisdom comes to us when it can no longer do any good. ❜ ❨801❩ ❛ Think of love as a state of grace, not the means to anything, but the very end in itself. ❜ ❨802❩ ❛ Only God knows how much I love you. ❜ ❨803❩ ❛ There is no greater glory than to die for love. ❜ ❨804❩ ❛ Nothing resembles a person as much as the way he dies. ❜ ❨805❩ ❛ Take advantage of it now, while you are young, and suffer all you can, because these things don't last your whole life. ❜ ❨806❩ ❛ Today, when I saw you, I realised that what is between us is nothing more than an illusion. ❜ ❨807❩ ❛ I have waited for this opportunity for more than half a century. ❜ ❨808❩ ❛ I want to be myself again, to recover all that I was obliged to give up. ❜ ❨809❩ ❛ The only thing worse than bad health is a bad name. ❜ ❨810❩ ❛ This soup tastes like windows. ❜ ❨811❩ ❛ Why do you insist on talking about what does not exist? ❜ ❨812❩ ❛ One has to live a long time to know a man's true nature. ❜ ❨813❩ ❛ No, not rich, I am a poor man with money, which is not the same thing. ❜ ❨814❩ ❛ My heart has more rooms than a whorehouse. ❜ ❨815❩ ❛ That may be the reason he does so many things, so that he will not have to think. ❜ ❨816❩ ❛ Love if it exists, is something separate: another life. ❜ ❨817❩ ❛ Things did not go as badly for me as they would for you. ❜ ❨818❩ ❛ There are things you do only for love. ❜ ❨819❩ ❛ I’ll have plenty of time to rest when I die. ❜ ❨820❩ ❛ There is no innocence more dangerous than the innocence of age. ❜ ❨821❩ ❛ You treat me as if I were just anybody. ❜ ❨822❩ ❛ The symptoms of love are the same as those of cholera. ❜ ❨823❩ ❛ There is no law, human or divine, that you have not ignored. ❜ ❨824❩ ❛ Why is it that I feel I've known you so many years? ❜ ❨825❩ ❛ Stuff your eyes with wonder, live as if you'd drop dead in ten seconds. See the world. It's more fantastic than any dream made or paid for in factories. ❜ ❨826❩ ❛ It doesn't matter what you do, so long as you change something from the way it was before you touched it into something that's like you after you take your hands away. ❜ ❨827❩ ❛ We need to be really bothered once in a while. How long is it since you were really bothered? About something important, about something real? ❜ ❨828❩ ❛ There must be something, something we can’t imagine, to make a woman stay in a burning house; there must be something there. You don’t stay for nothing. ❜ ❨829❩ ❛ If you hide your ignorance, no one will hit you and you'll never learn. ❜ ❨830❩ ❛ If you drown, at least die knowing you were heading for shore. ❜ ❨831❩ ❛ You can't make people listen. They have to come round in their own time, wondering what happened and why the world blew up around them. ❜ ❨832❩ ❛ It was a pleasure to burn. ❜ ❨833❩ ❛ I'm antisocial, they say. I don't mix. It's so strange. I'm very social indeed. It all depends on what you mean by social, doesn't it? ❜ ❨834❩ ❛ Being with people is nice. But I don't think it's social to get a bunch of people together and then not let them talk, do you? ❜ ❨835❩ ❛ Do you notice how people hurt each other nowadays? ❜ ❨836❩ ❛ Who knows who might be the target of the well-read man? ❜ ❨837❩ ❛ I don't talk things. I talk the meaning of things. ❜ ❨838❩ ❛ I'll hold on to the world tight some day. I've got one finger on it now; that's a beginning. ❜ ❨839❩ ❛ I just want someone to hear what I have to say. And maybe if I talk long enough it'll make sense. ❜ ❨840❩ ❛ That's the good part of dying; when you've nothing to lose, you run any risk you want. ❜ ❨841❩ ❛ Someday we'll build the biggest goddamn steamshovel in history and dig the biggest grave of all time and shove war in it and cover it up. ❜ ❨842❩ ❛ You're not like the others. I've seen a few; I know. When I talk, you look at me. ❜ ❨843❩ ❛ You're afraid of making mistakes. Don't be. Mistakes can be profited by. ❜ ❨844❩ ❛ When they give you lined paper, write the other way. ❜ ❨845❩ ❛ The sun burnt every day. It burnt time. ❜ ❨846❩ ❛ We have everything we need to be happy but we aren't happy. Something is missing. ❜ ❨847❩ ❛ I feel I'm doing what I should've done a lifetime ago. ❜ ❨848❩ ❛ I'm not afraid. Maybe it's because I'm doing the right thing at last. Maybe it's because I've done a rash thing and don't want to look the coward to you. ❜ ❨849❩ ❛ Good God, who were those men? I never saw them before in my life! ❜ ❨850❩ ❛ How do you get so empty? Who takes it out of you? ❜ ❨851❩ ❛ It must be right. It seems so right. ❜ ❨852❩ ❛ To everything there is a season. Yes. A time to break down, and a time to build up. A time to keep silence and a time to speak. ❜ ❨853❩ ❛ It's my game. And no one can help me. Not even you. ❜ ❨854❩ ❛ What makes earth feel like hell is our expectation that it should feel like heaven. Earth is earth. Dead is dead. You’ll find out for yourself soon enough. ❜ ❨855❩ ❛ Death is a long process. Your body is just the first part of you that croaks. Beyond that, your dreams have to die. Then your expectations. Your anger and memories must die. Your ego. Your pride and shame and ambition and hope. ❜ ❨856❩ ❛ Help me give up my addiction to hope. ❜ ❨857❩ ❛ Life is short, death is forever. ❜ ❨858❩ ❛ Hope is something really tough and tenacious you have to give up. It’s an addiction to break. ❜ ❨859❩ ❛ If the living are haunted by the dead, then the dead are haunted by their own mistakes. ❜ ❨860❩ ❛ We all wish to be pursued. We all long to be desired. ❜ ❨861❩ ❛ All the demons of hell formerly reigned as gods in previous cultures. No it's not fair, but one man's god is another man's devil. ❜ ❨862❩ ❛ I can become someone else, not out of pressure and desperation, but merely because a new life sounds fun or interesting or joyful. ❜ ❨863❩ ❛ It's my petty fear of personal rejection that allows so many true evils to exist. My cowardice enables atrocities. ❜ ❨864❩ ❛ You fucked up. Game over. So just relax. ❜ ❨865❩ ❛ The greatest weapon any warrior can carry into battle is absolute certainty of her eternal soul. ❜ ❨866❩ ❛ If killing you will end my existence as well, be it. Small loss. Such a life, as your puppet, is not worth living. ❜ ❨867❩ ❛ I might be a touch of a sadist and a little bit jejune but at least I'm not a victim, not any longer. I hope. ❜ ❨868❩ ❛ Dying seems like the greatest weakness, and in a world where people say you're lazy for not shaving your legs, then being dead seems like the ultimate character flaw. ❜ ❨869❩ ❛ Any concept of right versus wrong, is merely a cultural construct relative to one specific time and place. ❜ ❨870❩ ❛ To prove that I exist I must kill you. ❜ ❨871❩ ❛ I'd say that my life has been a way-too-long case history of chasing rainbows. ❜ ❨872❩ ❛ The world is a battle for attention, a war to be heard. ❜ ❨873❩ ❛ Every garden looks beautiful in May. ❜ ❨874❩ ❛ When we neglect to fear such brittle monstrosity, we render it powerless. ❜ ❨875❩ ❛ My taste for power continues to grow, as does my ability to accrue it. ❜ ❨876❩ ❛ Such language! Why don't you just take a dump in my ears? ❜ ❨877❩ ❛ You’d be foolish to count on people displaying high standards of honesty. ❜ ❨878❩ ❛ Depending on her mood, she can be more frightening than any demon or devil you might ever run across. ❜ ❨879❩ ❛ Cross your fingers! Maybe death won't happen to you. ❜ ❨880❩ ❛ Do not die while wearing cheap shoes. ❜ ❨881❩ ❛ Old habits die hard. ❜ ❨882❩ ❛ It's our attachments to a fixed identity that torture us. ❜ ❨883❩ ❛ What do I think I am? In a thousand words; I don't have a clue. ❨884❩ ❛ If I am to be saved it is because your love redeems me. ❜ ❨885❩ ❛ All I wanted was to be loved for myself. ❜ ❨886❩ ❛ I have tasted all the happiness the world can offer. ❜ ❨887❩ ❛ Shall we pity him? Shall we curse him? ❜ ❨888❩ ❛ You have a heart that can hold the entire empire of the world. ❜ ❨889❩ ❛ Look, I am not laughing now, crying, crying for you. ❜ ❨890❩ ❛ Tonight I gave you my soul, and I am dead. ❜ ❨891❩ ❛ You are afraid of me! And yet I am not really wicked. Love me and you shall see! ❜ ❨892❩ ❛ Are people so unhappy when they love? --- Yes, when they love and are not sure of being loved. ❜ ❨893❩ ❛ Your soul is a beautiful thing. No emperor received so fair a gift. The angels wept tonight. ❜ ❨894❩ ❛ Blood!...Blood!... That's a good thing! ❜ ❨895❩ ❛ Now I want to live like everybody else. I want to have a life like everybody else. ❜ ❨896❩ ❛ You will be the happiest of women. And we will sing, all by ourselves, till we swoon away with delight. ❜ ❨897❩ ❛ I should be as gentle as a lamb; and you could do anything with me that you pleased. ❜ ❨898❩ ❛ I am going to die of love, I am dying of love. That's how it is. I loved you so. I still love you so. ❜ ❨899❩ ❛ I am dying of love for her, I tell you! If only you knew how beautiful she was when she let me kiss her. ❜ ❨900❩ ❛ He fills me with horror but I do not hate him. How can I hate him? ❜ ❨901❩ ❛ Holy angel, in Heaven blessed, my spirit longs with thee to rest. ❜ ❨902❩ ❛ Nothing is colder or more dead than my heart. ❜ ❨903❩ ❛ I had loved an angel and now I despise a woman. ❜ ❨904❩ ❛ Our lives are one masked ball. ❜ ❨905❩ ❛ Why do you condemn a man whom you have never met, whom no one knows and about whom even you yourself know nothing? ❜ ❨906❩ ❛ He would commit murder for me. ❜ ❨907❩ ❛ If I don't save her from the hands of that humbug, she is lost. But I shall save her. ❜ ❨908❩ ❛ We will go from here together or die together. ❜ ❨909❩ ❛ Your fear, your terror, all of that is just love and love of the most exquisite kind, the kind which people do not admit even to themselves. The kind that gives you a thrill, when you think of it. ❜ ❨910❩ ❛ Destiny has chained you to me forever. ❜ ❨911❩ ❛ You must never ask me that. ❜ ❨912❩ ❛ Are you afraid that you will change your mind? ❜ ❨913❩ ❛ You must come and fetch me in my dressing room at midnight exactly. ❜ ❨914❩ ❛ The holes in your life are permanent. You have to grow around them, like tree roots around concrete; you mould yourself through the gaps. ❜ ❨915❩ ❛ I have never understood how people can blithely disregard the damage they do by following their hearts. ❜ ❨916❩ ❛ There’s something comforting about the sight of strangers safe at home. ❜ ❨917❩ ❛ I have lost control over everything, even the places in my head. ❜ ❨918❩ ❛ It’s possible to miss what you’ve never had, to even mourn for it. ❜ ❨919❩ ❛ There’s nothing so painful, so corrosive, as suspicion. ❜ ❨920❩ ❛ When did you become so weak? ❜ ❨921❩ ❛ I don’t know where that strength went, I don’t remember losing it. I think that over time it got chipped away, bit by bit, by life, by the living of it. ❜ ❨922❩ ❛ Let’s be honest: women are still only really valued for two things—their looks and their role as mothers. ❜ ❨923❩ ❛ Sadness gets boring after a while, for the sad person and for everyone around them. ❜ ❨924❩ ❛ I’m playing at real life instead of actually living it. ❜ ❨925❩ ❛ I’ve just got to let myself feel the pain, because if I don’t, if I keep numbing it, it’ll never really go away. ❜ ❨926❩ ❛ I am not the girl I used to be. I am no longer desirable, I’m off-putting in some way. It’s as if people can see the damage written all over me, can see it in my face, the way I hold myself, the way I move. ❜ ❨927❩ ❛ Who was it that said following your heart is a good thing? It is pure egotism, a selfishness to conquer all. ❜ ❨928❩ ❛ It’s impossible to resist the kindness of strangers. ❜ ❨929❩ ❛ Sometimes I catch myself trying to remember the last time I had meaningful physical contact with another person, just a hug or a heartfelt squeeze of my hand, and my heart twitches. ❜ ❨930❩ ❛ I have to find a way of making myself happy, I have to stop looking for happiness elsewhere. ❜ ❨931❩ ❛ How did I find myself here? I wonder where it started, my decline; I wonder at what point I could have halted it. Where did I take the wrong turn? ❜ ❨932❩ ❛ Now look -- Now look what you made me do. ❜ ❨933❩ ❛ It’s okay, whatever you did, whatever you’ve done: you suffered, you hurt, you deserve forgiveness. ❜ ❨934❩ ❛ They’re what I lost, they’re everything I want to be. ❜ ❨935❩ ❛ You broke me and I broke us. ❜ ❨936❩ ❛ I’ve been the fool. If he does it with you, he’ll do it to you. ❜ ❨937❩ ❛ I’d never realised, not until now, how shameful it is to be pitied. ❜ ❨938❩ ❛ Sometimes, I don’t want to go anywhere, I think I’ll be happy if I never have to set foot outside the house again. ❜ ❨939❩ ❛ I don’t believe in soul mates, but there’s an understanding between us that I just haven’t felt before, or at least, not for a long time. ❜ ❨940❩ ❛ There can be no greater agony, nothing can be more painful than the not knowing, which will never end. ❜ ❨941❩ ❛ Being the other woman is a huge turn-on, there’s no point in denying it: you’re the one he can’t help but betray his wife for, even though he loves her. That’s just how irresistible you are. ❜ ❨942❩ ❛ I feel a rush of gratitude so strong, it feels almost like love. ❜ ❨943❩ ❛ You don’t know how determined I can be. Once I’ve made my mind up, I’m a force to be reckoned with. ❜ ❨944❩ ❛ The more I want to be oblivious, the less I can be. Life and light will not let me be. ❜ ❨945❩ ❛ You don’t have to be afraid of being alone. It’s not the worst thing, is it? ❜ ❨946❩ ❛ I have felt this way before. On a larger scale, to a more intense degree, of course, but I remember the quality of the pain. You don’t forget it. ❜ ❨947❩ ❛ If he thinks I’m going to sit around crying, he’s got another thing coming. ❜ ❨948❩ ❛ I don’t like to lose. It’s not like me. None of this is like me. I don’t get rejected. I’m the one who walks away. ❜ ❨949❩ ❛ I don’t remember anger, raging fury. I remember fear. ❜ ❨950❩ ❛ I can’t sleep. I haven’t slept in days. I hate it, hate insomnia more than anything, just lying there, brain going round, tick, tick, tick, tick. ❜ ❨951❩ ❛ Maybe the courage I need has nothing to do with telling the truth and everything to do with walking away. ❜ ❨952❩ ❛ I’m not beautiful, and I can’t have kids, so what does that make me? Worthless. ❜ ❨953❩ ❛ Failure cloaked me like a mantle, it overwhelmed me, dragged me under and I gave up hope. ❜ ❨954❩ ❛ It’s an odd thing to say, but I think this all the time; I don’t feel bad enough. ❜ ❨955❩ ❛ Some battles aren’t worth fighting. ❜ ❨956❩ ❛ I never felt guilty. I pretended I did. I had to. ❜ ❨957❩ ❛ I never meant for any of this to happen, we fell in love, what could we do? ❜ ❨958❩ ❛ What bothers me most is that I haven’t got to the end of my story, and I can’t start over with someone else, it’s too hard. ❜ ❨959❩ ❛ A person is, among all else, a material thing, easily torn and not easily mended. ❜ ❨960❩ ❛ It isn’t only wickedness and scheming that make people unhappy, it is confusion and misunderstanding. ❜ ❨961❩ ❛ Falling in love can be achieved in a single word—a glance. ❜ ❨962❩ ❛ Though you think the world is at your feet, it can rise up and tread on you. ❜ ❨963❩ ❛ I’ve never had a moment’s doubt. I love you. I believe in you completely. You are my dearest one. My reason for life. ❜ ❨964❩ ❛ It might hurt, it is horribly inconvenient, no good might come of it, but it is what it is to be in love. ❜ ❨965❩ ❛ It was always an impossible task, and that was precisely the point. ❜ ❨966❩ ❛ Come back, come back to me. ❜ ❨967❩ ❛ In my thoughts I make love to you all day long. ❜ ❨968❩ ❛ The truth is I feel rather light headed and foolish in your presence and I don’t think I can blame the heat. ❜ ❨969❩ ❛ Beauty occupies a narrow band. Ugliness, on the other hand, has infinite variation. ❜ ❨970❩ ❛ Is there any meaning in my life that the inevitable death awaiting me does not destroy? ❜ ❨971❩ ❛ However, withered, I still feel myself to be exactly the same person I’ve always been. ❜ ❨972❩ ❛ Hate is a feeling as pure as love, but dispassionate and icily rational. ❜ ❨973❩ ❛ I’m going mad. Let me not be mad. ❜ ❨974❩ ❛ Is everyone really as alive as I am? ❜ ❨975❩ ❛ Every now and then, quite unintentionally, someone teaches you something about yourself. ❜ ❨976❩ ❛ Something has happened, hasn’t it? ❜ ❨977❩ ❛ I like to think that it isn’t weakness or evasion, but a final act of kindness. ❜ ❨978❩ ❛ Is it possible that I am, in the modern term, in denial? ❜ ❨979❩ ❛ How could anyone presume to know the world through the eyes of an insect? ❜ ❨980❩ ❛ Not everything has a cause. Some things are simply so. ❜ ❨981❩ ❛ I’ll be quite honest with you. I’m torn between breaking your neck here and throwing you down the stairs. ❜ ❨982❩ ❛ How old do you have to be before you know the difference between right and wrong? ❜ ❨983❩ ❛ It was never meant to be read. ❜ ❨984❩ ❛ If I fell in the river, would you save me? ❜ ❨985❩ ❛ That was an incredibly bloody stupid thing to do. ❜ ❨986❩ ❛ I want to thank you for saving my life. I’ll be eternally grateful to you. ❜ ❨987❩ ❛ I’m very, very sorry for the terrible distress that I have caused. I’m very, very sorry. ❜ ❨988❩ ❛ Don’t call me that! – Please don’t call me that. ❜ ❨989❩ ❛ It may be the wrong decision, but fuck it, it’s mine. ❜ ❨990❩ ❛ Like patience, passion comes from the same Latin root: pati. It does not mean to flow with exuberance. It means to suffer. ❜ ❨991❩ ❛ No one ever really gets used to nightmares. ❜ ❨992❩ ❛ I still get nightmares. In fact, I get them so often I should be used to them by now. I’m not. ❜ ❨993❩ ❛ Sublime is something you choke on after a shot of tequila. ❜ ❨994❩ ❛ Some people reflect light, some deflect it, you by some miracle, seem to collect it. ❜ ❨995❩ ❛ Beautiful women are always drawn to men they think will keep them beautiful. ❜ ❨996❩ ❛ The ruminations are mine, let the world be yours. ❜ ❨997❩ ❛ You will fulfil a promise I made years ago but failed to keep. ❜ ❨998❩ ❛ Darkness never satisfies. Especially if it takes something away which it almost always invariably does. ❜ ❨999❩ ❛ I want something else. I’m not even sure what to call it anymore. ❜ ❨1000❩ ❛ What can I say, I’m a sucker for abandoned stuff, misplaced stuff, forgotten stuff, any old stuff. ❜ ❨1001❩ ❛ Is it possible to love something so much, you imagine it wants to destroy you only because it has denied you? ❜ ❨1002❩ ❛ It’s just silent, no sound at all. It’s like something’s waiting. ❜ ❨1003❩ ❛ I guess I’m hoping the weapons will make me feel better, grant me some kind of fucking control. ❜ ❨1004❩ ❛ Oh and something else: – Fuck you. ❜ ❨1005❩ ❛ God I’ve never been afraid like this. ❜ ❨1006❩ ❛ I miss you. I love you. There’s no second I’ve lived that you can’t call your own. ❜ ❨1007❩ ❛ I’m so tired. Sleep’s been stalking me for too long to remember. Inevitable I suppose. ❜ ❨1008❩ ❛ Not seeing the rip doesn’t mean you automatically get to keep clear of the Hey-I’m-Bleeding part. ❜ ❨1009❩ ❛ These days fantasies flourish and die like summer flies. ❜ ❨1010❩ ❛ Yeah I know, I know. This shit’s getting ridiculous. ❜ ❨1011❩ ❛ ‘Fuck’ and 'fall for’ have very different meanings. The first one you do as much as you can. The second one you never ever, ever do. ❜ ❨1012❩ ❛ It’s a nice idea but it reeks of hope. False hope. ❜ ❨1013❩ ❛ It’s, well…one thing in two words: fucked up…very fucked up. Okay three words, four words, who the hell cares…very very fucked up. ❜ ❨1014❩ ❛ Do you think I could spend the night at your place?  ❜ ❨1015❩ ❛ Any fool can pray. ❜ ❨1016❩ ❛ I feel like I haven’t slept in months. My neighbours are scared of me. ❜ ❨1017❩ ❛ I’ve lost my mind? Maybe, maybe, maybe. Maybe I’m just really drunk. ❜ ❨1018❩ ❛ Perhaps by cleaning out my system I’ll come to a clearing where I can ease myself into peace. ❜ ❨1019❩ ❛ I should be dead. Why am I still here? ❜ ❨1020❩ ❛ Fuck if I know. Your guess is as good as mine. ❜ ❨1021❩ ❛ You are my flesh. You are my bones. I know you too well. I read you too perfectly. ❜ ❨1022❩ ❛ Not all complex problems have easy solutions. ❜ ❨1023❩ ❛ Do you believe in God? I don’t think I ever asked you that one. ❜ ❨1024❩ ❛ We all create stories to protect ourselves. ❜ ❨1025❩ ❛ Are you kidding me? This place is scary. ❜ ❨1026❩ ❛ These days the only thing that gets me outside is when I say: Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck you. Fuck me. Fuck this. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. ❜ ❨1027❩ ❛ You like that crap because it reminds you of you. ❜ ❨1028❩ ❛ You may suddenly realise things are not how you perceived them to be at all. ❜ ❨1029❩ ❛ The two hardest tests are the patience to wait for the right moment and the courage not to be disappointed with what we encounter. ❜ ❨1030❩ ❛ People never learn anything by being told, they have to find out for themselves. ❜ ❨1031❩ ❛ Be crazy! But learn how to be crazy without being the center of attention. Be brave enough to live different. ❜ ❨1032❩ ❛ You are someone who is different, but who wants to be the same as everyone else. And that in my view is a serious illness. ❜ ❨1033❩ ❛ God chose you to be different. ❜ ❨1034❩ ❛ Why are you disappointing God with this kind of attitude? ❜ ❨1035❩ ❛ You have two choices, to control your mind or to let your mind control you. ❜ ❨1036❩ ❛ Everyone is indeed crazy, but the craziest are the ones who don't know they're crazy; they just keep repeating what others tell them to. ❜ ❨1037❩ ❛ Haven't you learned anything, not even with the approach of death?  ❜ ❨1038❩ ❛ If people don't like it, they can complain. And if they don't have the courage to complain, that's their problem. ❜ ❨1039❩ ❛ Nothing in this world happens by chance. ❜ ❨1040❩ ❛ I want to continue living my life the way I dream it, and not the way the other people want it to be. ❜ ❨1041❩ ❛ Be like the fountain that overflows, not like the cistern that merely contains. ❜ ❨1042❩ ❛ Collective madness is called sanity. ❜ ❨1043❩ ❛ Consider each day a miracle - which indeed it is, when you consider the number of unexpected things that could happen in each second of our fragile existences. ❜ ❨1044❩ ❛ You say they create their own reality, but what is reality? ❜ ❨1045❩ ❛ Many people don't allow themselves to love because there are a lot of things at risk. A lot of future and a lot of past. ❜ ❨1046❩ ❛ Death frees from the fear of dying. ❜ ❨1047❩ ❛ The danger of an adventure is worth a thousand days of ease and comfort. ❜ ❨1048❩ ❛ The happier people can be, the unhappier they are. ❜ ❨1049❩ ❛ Life is always a matter of waiting for the right moment to act. ❜ ❨1050❩ ❛ It's best to accept life as it really is and not as you imagined it to be. ❜ ❨1051❩ ❛ You don't seem mad at all. ❜ ❨1052❩ ❛ We’re allowed to make a lot of mistakes in our lives, except the mistake that destroys us. ❜ ❨1053❩ ❛ You’re what you are, not what others make of you. ❜ ❨1054❩ ❛ Am I cured? ❜ ❨1055❩ ❛ Real love changes and grows with time and discovers new ways of expressing itself. ❜ ❨1056❩ ❛ A lot of people think something is right, and so that thing becomes right. Is that it? ❜ ❨1057❩ ❛ They think they're normal, because they all do the same thing. ❜ ❨1058❩ ❛ I didn't know that other ‘me’s existed inside me, ‘Me’s that I could love. ❜ ❨1059❩ ❛ I have no idea what's awaiting me. ❜ ❨1060❩ ❛ What will happen when this all ends? ❜ ❨1061❩ ❛ I know that you are capable of great deeds. ❜ ❨1062❩ ❛ A loveless world is a dead world, and always there comes an hour when one is weary of prisons, of one's work, and of devotion to duty, and all one craves for is a loved face, the warmth and wonder of a loving heart. ❜ ❨1063❩ ❛ The truth is that everyone is bored. ❜ ❨1064❩ ❛ I feel more fellowship with the defeated than with saints. Heroism and sanctity don't really appeal to me, I imagine. ❜ ❨1065❩ ❛ If there is one thing one can always yearn for, and sometimes attain, it is human love. ❜ ❨1066❩ ❛ Who would dare to assert that eternal happiness can compensate for even a single moment's suffering? ❜ ❨1067❩ ❛ It's not easy. I've been thinking it over for years. ❜ ❨1068❩ ❛ While we loved each other we didn't need words to make ourselves understood. ❜ ❨1069❩ ❛ People are more often bad than good. ❜ ❨1070❩ ❛ I don't believe in heroism; I know it's easy and I've learned that it can be murderous. ❜ ❨1071❩ ❛ What interests me is living and dying for what one loves. ❜ ❨1072❩ ❛ In fact, nobody is capable of really thinking about anyone, even in the worst calamity. ❜ ❨1073❩ ❛ Nothing in the world is worth turning one's back on what one loves. ❜ ❨1074❩ ❛ Again and again there comes a time in history when the man who dares to say that two and two make four is punished with death. ❜ ❨1075❩ ❛ There are more things to admire in men then to despise. ❜ ❨1076❩ ❛ It is in the thick of calamity that one gets hardened to the truth - in other words, to silence. ❜ ❨1077❩ ❛ What on earth prompted you to take a hand in this? ❜ ❨1078❩ ❛ Your code of morals? What code, if I may ask? ❜ ❨1079❩ ❛ I'm fumbling in the dark, struggling to make something out. But I've long ceased finding anything. ❜ ❨1080❩ ❛ No doubt our love is still there, but quite simply it is unusable, heavy to carry, inert inside of us, sterile as crime or condemnation. ❜ ❨1081❩ ❛ I’m not happy to go, but one needn't be happy to make another start. ❜ ❨1082❩ ❛ I am incapable of suffering for a long time, or being happy for a long time. Which means that I am incapable of anything really worth while. ❜ ❨1083❩ ❛ I should have found the words to keep her with me. ❜ ❨1084❩ ❛ We can't stir a finger in this world without the risk of bringing death to somebody. ❜ ❨1085❩ ❛ The evil that is in the world comes out of ignorance, and good intentions may do as much harm as malevolence, if they lack understanding. ❜ ❨1086❩ ❛ There are always flies and itches. That’s why life is difficult to live. ❜ ❨1087❩ ❛ The best protection against anything is a good bottle of wine. ❜ ❨1088❩ ❛ There is no peace without hope. ❜ ❨1089❩ ❛ It's enough for me to be sure that you and I exist at this moment. ❜ ❨1090❩ ❛ There is always something left to love. ❜ ❨1091❩ ❛ A person doesn’t die when he should but when he can. ❜ ❨1092❩ ❛ Things have a life of their own. It's simply a matter of waking up their souls. ❜ ❨1093❩ ❛ Tell me something: why are you fighting? ❜ ❨1094❩ ❛ I've come to realise only just now that I'm fighting because of pride. ❜ ❨1095❩ ❛ One minute of reconciliation is worth more than a whole life of friendship. ❜ ❨1096❩ ❛ It's better than not knowing why you're fighting. Or fighting, like you, for something that doesn't have any meaning for anyone. ❜ ❨1097❩ ❛ Holy Mother of God! ❜ ❨1098❩ ❛ A person does not belong to a place until there is someone dead under the ground. ❜ ❨1099❩ ❛ I was born a son of a bitch and I'm going to die a son of a bitch. ❜ ❨1100❩ ❛ Bad luck doesn't have any chinks in it. ❜ ❨1101❩ ❛ I plead youth as a mitigating circumstance. ❜ ❨1102❩ ❛ Get those bad thoughts out of your head. You're going to be happy. ❜ ❨1103❩ ❛ Children inherit their parents' madness. ❜ ❨1104❩ ❛ I'll turn to ashes in here but I won't give this miserable town the pleasure of seeing me weep. ❜ ❨1105❩ ❛ You would be good in a war. Where you put your eye, you put your bullet. ❜ ❨1106❩ ❛ Men demand much more than you think. ❜ ❨1107❩ ❛ Even the craziest and most persistent love is just a temporary truth. ❜ ❨1108❩ ❛ If we’re alone you can whisper in my ear any crap you can think of. ❜ ❨1109❩ ❛ You have taken this horrible game very seriously and you have done well because you are doing your duty. ❜ ❨1110❩ ❛ We have the right to pull down your pants and give you a whipping at the first sign of disrespect. ❜ ❨1111❩ ❛ What worries me is not your shooting me, because after all, for people like us it's a natural death. ❜ ❨1112❩ ❛ What worries me is that you've ended up as bad as they are. ❜ ❨1113❩ ❛ It is characteristic of men to deny hunger once their appetites are satisfied. ❜ ❨1114❩ ❛ Dying is much more difficult than one imagines. ❜ ❨1115❩ ❛ If you have to go crazy, please go crazy all by yourself! ❜ ❨1116❩ ❛ We have still not had a death. ❜ ❨1117❩ ❛ How awful, the way time passes. ❜ ❨1118❩ ❛ You may be in command of your war, but I'm in command of my house. ❜ ❨1119❩ ❛ I missed you every hour. ❜ ❨1120❩ ❛ You know what the worst part was? It caught me completely by surprise. ❜ ❨1121❩ ❛ I’ve risked my life for you. ❜ ❨1122❩ ❛ The problem with wanting is that it makes us weak. ❜ ❨1123❩ ❛ I love you, even the part of you that loved him. ❜ ❨1124❩ ❛ I’m sorry it took me so long to see you. ❜ ❨1125❩ ❛ I never really belonged anywhere. ❜ ❨1126❩ ❛ Thanks for being my best friend and making my life bearable.  ❜ ❨1127❩ ❛ Thanks for finding me. ❜ ❨1128❩ ❛ You and I are going to change the world. ❜ ❨1129❩ ❛ I’ve been waiting for you a long time. ❜ ❨1130❩ ❛ I’m not used to people trying to kill me. ❜ ❨1131❩ ❛ You’re shaking. ❜ ❨1132❩ ❛ There's nothing wrong with being a lizard. Unless you were born to be a hawk. ❜ ❨1133❩ ❛ Make me your villain. ❜ ❨1134❩ ❛ Just you and me. It’s always just you and me. ❜ ❨1135❩ ❛ Do you blame me for every mistake I made? For every dumb thing I’ve said? ❜ ❨1136❩ ❛ Well, if it gets too bad, give me a signal. ❜ ❨1137❩ ❛ Did you tell him what I showed you in the dark? ❜ ❨1138❩ ❛ Did you miss me when you were gone? ❜ ❨1139❩ ❛ What is infinite? The universe and the greed of men. ❜ ❨1140❩ ❛ You’re interfering with my plan. ❜ ❨1141❩ ❛ Too much champagne? ❜ ❨1142❩ ❛ I hope you don’t expect fairness from me. It isn’t one of my specialties. ❜ ❨1143❩ ❛ There is something more powerful than any army. Something strong enough to topple kings. Faith. ❜ ❨1144❩ ❛ All you said was that I had to kill you. You didn’t say how. ❜ ❨1145❩ ❛ What is she? She’s everything, you dumb son of a bitch. ❜ ❨1146❩ ❛ She’s an ugly little thing. No child should look like that. Pale and sour, like a glass of milk that’s turned. ❜ ❨1147❩ ❛ I wouldn’t make that mistake again. ❜ ❨1148❩ ❛ It’s a great honor, to save a life. You saved many. ❜ ❨1149❩ ❛ In this world, there are things you can only do alone. ❜ ❨1150❩ ❛ What seems like a reasonable distance to one person might feel too far to somebody else. ❜ ❨1151❩ ❛ If you really want to know something, you have to be willing to pay the price. ❜ ❨1152❩ ❛ Why should you be interested in me? ❜ ❨1153❩ ❛ I have been told I've got a darkish personality. A few times. ❜ ❨1154❩ ❛ It's not as if our lives are divided simply into light and dark. There's shadowy middle ground. ❜ ❨1155❩ ❛ I'll write to you. A super-long letter, like in an old-fashioned novel. ❜ ❨1156❩ ❛ The spotlight doesn't suit me. I'm more of a side dish. ❜ ❨1157❩ ❛ The ground we stand on looks solid enough, but if something happens it can drop right out from under you.  ❜ ❨1158❩ ❛ So once you're dead there's just nothing? ❜ ❨1159❩ ❛ If only I could fall sound asleep and wake up in my old reality. ❜ ❨1160❩ ❛ Is action merely the incidental product of thought, or is thought the consequential product of action? ❜ ❨1161❩ ❛ Nobody can shake off their own shadow. ❜ ❨1162❩ ❛ The silence is so deep it hurts. ❜ ❨1163❩ ❛ I may not look it, but I can be a very patient guy. ❜ ❨1164❩ ❛ Killing time is one of my specialities. ❜ ❨1165❩ ❛ You can't fight it. ❜ ❨1166❩ ❛ Tell me something,—do you believe in reincarnation? ❜ ❨1167❩ ❛ I can’t understand nothingness. I can’t understand it and I can’t imagine it. ❜ ❨1168❩ ❛ I can hardly breathe, and my whole body wants to shrink into a corner.  ❜ ❨1169❩ ❛ I do have a few things wrong with me, but those are strictly problems I keep inside. ❜ ❨1170❩ ❛ I can't take it any more, I can't go on any more. ❜ ❨1171❩ ❛ You don't really have it together. ❜ ❨1172❩ ❛ Is it against the law for me to know it? ❜ ❨1173❩ ❛ I keep having the same dream. ❜ ❨1174❩ ❛ Are you asking because you really want an answer? ❜ ❨1175❩ ❛ I hate this! I don't want to be changed this way! ❜ ❨1176❩ ❛ No contradictions, no irony. They do everything according to numerical formulas. ❜ ❨1177❩ ❛ Want to hear the rest? If you’re not interested, I can stop. ❜ ❨1178❩ ❛ If I didn’t have these memories inside me, I would’ve snapped a long time ago. I would’ve curled up in a ditch somewhere and died. ❜ ❨1179❩ ❛ I don’t know what you’re feeling. I won’t even pretend. ❜ ❨1180❩ ❛ What are you doing here, honey? ❜ ❨1181❩ ❛ You're not even old enough to know how bad life gets. ❜ ❨1182❩ ❛ You don't understand me. ❜ ❨1183❩ ❛ All wisdom ends in paradox. ❜ ❨1184❩ ❛ It is love that overthrows empire. Love that binds two hearts together, come hellfire & brimstone. ❜ ❨1185❩ ❛ I have lost my gift. ❜ ❨1186❩ ❛ Winter is the season of alcoholism and despair. ❜ ❨1187❩ ❛ The seeds of death get lost in the mess that God made us. ❜ ❨1188❩ ❛ They're just memories now. It’s time to forget. ❜ ❨1189❩ ❛ The time has to be right and the heart willing. ❜ ❨1190❩ ❛ The world, a tired performer, offers us another half-assed season. ❜ ❨1191❩ ❛ Capitalism has resulted in material well-being but spiritual bankruptcy. ❜ ❨1192❩ ❛ Grief is natural, overcoming it is a matter of choice. ❜ ❨1193❩ ❛ I want out of that decorating scheme. ❜ ❨1194❩ ❛ With most people suicide is like Russian roulette. Only one chamber has a bullet. ❜ ❨1195❩ ❛ You never get over it but you get where it doesn't bother you so much. ❜ ❨1196❩ ❛ Don't waste your time on life. ❜ ❨1197❩ ❛ I'm a teenager. I've got problems! ❜ ❨1198❩ ❛ Adolescents tend to seek love where they can find it. ❜ ❨1199❩ ❛ Obviously, you've never been a thirteen-year-old girl. ❜ ❨1200❩ ❛ It was a mistake. ❜ ❨1201❩ ❛ It seemed like we were supposed to feel sorry for everything that ever happened, ever. ❜ ❨1202❩ ❛ Buffeted but not broken. ❜ ❨1203❩ ❛ Shit. What have kids got to be worried about now? ❜ ❨1204❩ ❛ If they want trouble, they should go live in Bangladesh. ❜ ❨1205❩ ❛ I can't wait until I get out of here. ❜ ❨1206❩ ❛ When she jumped she probably thought she’d fly. ❜ ❨1207❩ ❛ I do not think the patient truly meant to end her life. Her act was a cry for help. ❜ ❨1208❩ ❛ You're a stone fox. ❜ ❨1209❩ ❛ It was love at first sight, at last sight, at ever and ever sight. ❜ ❨1210❩ ❛ Light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. ❜ ❨1211❩ ❛ He broke my heart. You merely broke my life. ❜ ❨1212❩ ❛ I'm sorry to have deceived you so much, but that's how life is. ❜ ❨1213❩ ❛ Words without experience are meaningless. ❜ ❨1214❩ ❛ I loved you. I was a monster, but I loved you. ❜ ❨1215❩ ❛ Come just as you are. ❜ ❨1216❩ ❛ If a violin string could ache, i would be that string. ❜ ❨1217❩ ❛ Perhaps, somewhere, some day, at a less miserable time, we may see each other again. ❜ ❨1218❩ ❛ What's so dreadful about dying is that you are completely on your own. ❜ ❨1219❩ ❛ Don't touch me; I'll die if you touch me. ❜ ❨1220❩ ❛ You took advantage of my disadvantage. ❜ ❨1221❩ ❛ I walk in a maze I cannot get out of. ❜ ❨1222❩ ❛ Life is just one small piece of light between two eternal darknesses. ❜ ❨1223❩ ❛ Imagine me; I shall not exist if you do not imagine me. ❜ ❨1224❩ ❛ There is no harm in smiling. ❜ ❨1225❩ ❛ There is no point in staying here. There is no point in staying anywhere. ❜ ❨1226❩ ❛ There is nothing more atrociously cruel than an adored child. ❜ ❨1227❩ ❛ I am so tired of being cynical. ❜ ❨1228❩ ❛ Come to live with me, and die with me, and everything with me. ❜ ❨1229❩ ❛ This is the only immortality that you and I may share. ❜ ❨1230❩ ❛ I loved her more than anything I had ever seen or imagined on earth, or hoped for anywhere else. ❜ ❨1231❩ ❛ I was despicable and brutal, and turpid, and everything, mais je t’aimais, je t’aimais! ❜ ❨1232❩ ❛ Years of secret suffering has taught me superhuman self-control. ❜ ❨1233❩ ❛ Solitude is corrupting me. I need company and care. ❜ ❨1234❩ ❛ I've missed you terribly. ❜ ❨1235❩ ❛ I've been revoltingly unfaithful to you. ❜ ❨1236❩ ❛ It doesn't matter a bit, because you've stopped caring anyway. ❜ ❨1237❩ ❛ What makes you say I've stopped caring for you? ❜ ❨1238❩ ❛ Nowadays you have to be a scientist if you want to be a killer. ❜ ❨1239❩ ❛ The sun climbs high in the sky, then starts down. People come, then go. ❜ ❨1240❩ ❛ Tell me, have you ever thought of killing me? ❜ ❨1241❩ ❛ I can not believe you are the same human being. ❜ ❨1242❩ ❛ Just how urgent is it? ❜ ❨1243❩ ❛ It is time for you to be going. ❜ ❨1244❩ ❛ How is it you know something like that? ❜ ❨1245❩ ❛ I don’t mind. Your mess is my mess. ❜ ❨1246❩ ❛ Everybody has one thing they do not want to lose. ❜ ❨1247❩ ❛ I’ll be late tonight, so don’t wait up for me. ❜ ❨1248❩ ❛ Nothing I’ve tried to do by myself has ever come off. ❜ ❨1249❩ ❛ I am not catching you in the middle of anything important, am I? ❜ ❨1250❩ ❛ Some things are forgotten, some things disappear, some things die. ❜ ❨1251❩ ❛ My biggest fault is that the faults I was born with grow bigger each year. ❜ ❨1252❩ ❛ To get irritated is to lose our way in life. ❜ ❨1253❩ ❛ A friend to kill time is a friend sublime. ❜ ❨1254❩ ❛ I don't really know if it's the right thing to do. ❜ ❨1255❩ ❛ Faster cars and more cats run over? Who needs it? ❜ ❨1256❩ ❛ Most of everything you think you know about me is nothing more than memories. ❜ ❨1257❩ ❛ Your fate is and will always be the fate of a dreamer. ❜ ❨1258❩ ❛ You’re loads better than you think you are. ❜ ❨1259❩ ❛ You’re only half-living, the other half is still untapped somewhere. ❜ ❨1260❩ ❛ The song is over. But the melody lingers on. ❜ ❨1261❩ ❛ You are extraordinary. ❜ ❨1262❩ ❛ We tend to fool ourselves into thinking that time is our size, but it really goes on and on. ❜ ❨1263❩ ❛ It could be five years or ten years or one month. It's all the same. ❜ ❨1264❩ ❛ I’m forever realising things too late. ❜ ❨1265❩ ❛ I’m not complaining when I say my life is boring. ❜ ❨1266❩ ❛ Weakness is something that rots in the body. ❜ ❨1267❩ ❛ Coming from your mouth, it has the ring of truth, but I doubt anyone would believe me if I told them. ❜ ❨1268❩ ❛ You can't expect something unreal to last anyway, can you? ❜ ❨1269❩ ❛ A wise man does not step betwixt the beast and his meat. ❜ ❨1270❩ ❛ So, kill me. Tell the others I attacked you so you killed me. ❜ ❨1271❩ ❛ Should never have come here. ❜ ❨1272❩ ❛ Hard to guess my tastes. ❜ ❨1273❩ ❛ Can’t it wait until the morning? ❜ ❨1274❩ ❛ You’ll find temper tantrums won’t help you here. ❜ ❨1275❩ ❛ It must have taken courage to return. ❜ ❨1276❩ ❛ It all sounds grimly dystopian. ❜ ❨1277❩ ❛ I am not afraid of you! ❜ ❨1278❩ ❛ All this could be avoided! ❜ ❨1279❩ ❛ You consider me a murderer? ❜ ❨1280❩ ❛ Gross way to die. ❜ ❨1281❩ ❛ What sparks wars? The will to power, the backbone of human nature. ❜ ❨1282❩ ❛ My life amounts to no more than one drop in a limitless ocean. Yet what is any ocean, but a multitude of drops? ❜ ❨1283❩ ❛ Our lives are not our own. We are bound to others. ❜ ❨1284❩ ❛ I believe there is another world waiting for us. A better world. And I'll be waiting for you there. ❜ ❨1285❩ ❛ You are allowed to feel messed up and inside out. It doesn't mean you're defective - it just means you're human. ❜ ❨1286❩ ❛ Power, time, gravity, love. The forces that really kick ass are all invisible. ❜ ❨1287❩ ❛ Unlimited power in the hands of limited people always leads to cruelty. ❜ ❨1288❩ ❛ Truth is singular. Its 'versions' are mistruths. ❜ ❨1289❩ ❛ Dreams are all I have ever truly owned. ❜ ❨1290❩ ❛ Your version of the truth is the only thing that matters. ❜ ❨1291❩ ❛ I believe death is only a door. One closes, and another opens. ❜ ❨1292❩ ❛ By each crime and every kindness, we birth our future. ❜ ❨1293❩ ❛ The healthy can't understand the emptied, the broken. ❜ ❨1294❩ ❛ Lying's wrong, but when the world spins backwards, a small wrong may be a big right. ❜ ❨1295❩ ❛ The weak are meat the strong do eat. ❜ ❨1296❩ ❛ Do whatever you can't not do. ❜ ❨1297❩ ❛ What precipitates outcomes? Vicious acts & virtuous acts. ❜ ❨1298❩ ❛ I remain thankful to God for all his mercies. ❜ ❨1299❩ ❛ You can maintain power over people, as long as you give them something. Rob a man of everything, and that man will no longer be in your power. ❜ ❨1300❩ ❛ Power. The ability to determine another man's luck. ❜ ❨1301❩ ❛ Pain is strong, aye - but friends' eyes, more strong. ❜ ❨1302❩ ❛ Perhaps those deprived of beauty perceive it most instinctively. ❜ ❨1303❩ ❛ Why ask a question whose answer would demand ten more questions? ❜ ❨1304❩ ❛ You can’t lie to your soul. ❜ ❨1305❩ ❛ Why would I want to do a thing like that? ❜ ❨1306❩ ❛ We start off with high hopes, then we bottle it. ❜ ❨1307❩ ❛ Better to make life as complete and enjoyable an experience as possible, in case death is shite, which I suspect it will be. ❜ ❨1308❩ ❛ I’m not running away, I’m moving on. ❜ ❨1309❩ ❛ The reasons? There are no reasons. ❜ ❨1310❩ ❛ Some people are easier to love when you don’t have to be around them. ❜ ❨1311❩ ❛ Love does not exist. ❜ ❨1312❩ ❛ Fuck that ‘regrets’ bullshit. ❜ ❨1313❩ ❛ How does it make you feel? ❜ ❨1314❩ ❛ It’s horrible how we always die alone, but no worse than living alone. ❜ ❨1315❩ ❛ Choose us. Choose life. ❜ ❨1316❩ ❛ You fucking knew that fucking cunt would fuck some cunt. ❜ ❨1317❩ ❛ I’m more of a warrior than you’ll ever be. ❜ ❨1318❩ ❛ What does that make us? The lowest of the low, the scum of the earth. ❜ ❨1319❩ ❛ You don’t have to run away.  ❜ ❨1320❩ ❛ I tried to stop because it was only causing pain. I couldn’t. ❜ ❨1321❩ ❛ I’m not going to get crushed. ❜ ❨1322❩ ❛ I love doubt in a woman. It’s nearly as sexy as determination. ❜ ❨1323❩ ❛ Take your best orgasm, multiply the feeling by twenty. ❜ ❨1324❩ ❛ You’re a mess. ❜ ❨1325❩ ❛ I know that it’s never left you alone. ❜ ❨1326❩ ❛ Are you asking me or telling me? ❜ ❨1327❩ ❛ You just get used to all the shit. ❜ ❨1328❩ ❛ You can’t afford a conscience in this life. ❜ ❨1329❩ ❛ None of us are saints and scapegoats are always handy. ❜ ❨1330❩ ❛ Doing things doesn’t hurt you; you get hurt by avoiding them. ❜ ❨1331❩ ❛ What was that? ❜ ❨1332❩ ❛ Protect me from those who wish to help us. ❜ ❨1333❩ ❛ You can’t love yourself if you want to hurt things like that. ❜ ❨1334❩ ❛ What happens when people open their hearts? ❜ ❨1335❩ ❛ Nobody likes being alone that much. ❜ ❨1336❩ ❛ I don’t go out of my way to make friends, that’s all. It just leads to disappointment.” ❨1337❩ ❛ Don’t feel sorry for yourself. Only assholes do that. ❜ ❨1338❩ ❛ You need to grab whatever chance you have of happiness where you find it, and not worry about other people too much. ❜ ❨1339❩ ❛ I want you always to remember me. ❜ ❨1340❩ ❛ Despite your best efforts, people are going to be hurt when it’s time for them to be hurt. ❜ ❨1341❩ ❛ What stays in your heart will stay; keep them, and what vanishes will vanish. ❜ ❨1342❩ ❛ All I want in this world is you. ❜ ❨1343❩ ❛ I want the two of us to begin everything from the beginning. ❜ ❨1344❩ ❛ No truth can cure the sorrow we feel from losing a loved one. ❜ ❨1345❩ ❛ What a terrible thing it is to wound someone you really care for and to do it so unconsciously. ❜ ❨1346❩ ❛ If you’re in pitch blackness, all you can do is sit tight until your eyes get used to the dark. ❜ ❨1347❩ ❛ I’ve had enough hurt already in my life. More than enough. Now I want to be happy. ❜ ❨1348❩ ❛ People leave strange little memories of themselves behind when they die. ❜ ❨1349❩ ❛ Stop eating yourself up alive. Things will go where they’re supposed to go if you just let them take their natural course. ❜ ❨1350❩ ❛ When your feelings build up and harden and die inside, then you’re in big trouble. ❜ ❨1351❩ ❛ When you fall in love, the natural thing to do is give yourself to it. ❜ ❨1352❩ ❛ If I have left a wound inside you, it is not just your wound but mine as well. ❜ ❨1353❩ ❛ Hey, what is it with you? Why are you so spaced out? You still haven’t answered me. ❜ ❨1354❩ ❛ People are strange when you’re a stranger. ❜ ❨1355❩ ❛ The dead will always be dead, but we have to go on living. ❜ ❨1356❩ ❛ You don’t get it, do you? ❜ ❨1357❩ ❛ I am a flawed human being - a far more flawed human being than you ❨1358❩ realise. ❜ ❨1359❩ ❛ At least let me know whether or not I hurt you. ❜ ❨1360❩ ❛ All of us are imperfect human beings living in an imperfect world. ❜ ❨1361❩ ❛ I’ve never once thought about how I was going to die. ❜ ❨1362❩ ❛ So I’m not crazy after all! ❜ ❨1363❩ ❛ I miss you terribly sometimes, but in general I go on living with all the energy I can muster. ❜ ❨1364❩ ❛ Will you wait for me forever? ❜ ❨1365❩ ❛ I don’t want our relationship to end like this. ❜ ❨1366❩ ❛ When am I going to be able to talk to you? I want you to tell me that much, at least. ❜ ❨1367❩ ❛ It hurts not being able to see you. ❜ ❨1368❩ ❛ I’m not totally mad at you. I’m just sad. ❜ ❨1369❩ ❛ The world is an inherently unfair place. ❜ ❨1370❩ ❛ Life frightens me sometimes. I don’t happen to take that as the premise for everything else though. ❜ ❨1371❩ ❛ I’m a real bargain, don’t you think? If you don’t take me, I’ll end up going somewhere else. ❜ ❨1372❩ ❛ We’re all kind of weird and twisted and drowning. ❜ ❨1373❩ ❛ Don’t you think it would be wonderful to get rid of everything and everybody and just go some place where you don’t know a soul? ❜ ❨1374❩ ❛ You’re not telling me anything I don’t know already. ❜ ❨1375❩ ❛ He who controls the past controls the future. He who controls the present controls the past. ❜ ❨1376❩ ❛ If you want to keep a secret, you must also hide it from yourself. ❜ ❨1377❩ ❛ We shall meet in the place where there is no darkness. ❜ ❨1378❩ ❛ Until they become conscious they will never rebel. ❜ ❨1379❩ ❛ Power is not a means; it is an end. ❜ ❨1380❩ ❛ They are not interested in the good of others; they are interested solely in power, pure power. ❜ ❨1381❩ ❛ Now you begin to understand me. ❜ ❨1382❩ ❛ In the face of pain there are no heroes. ❜ ❨1383❩ ❛ Big Brother is watching you. ❜ ❨1384❩ ❛ Power is tearing human minds to pieces and putting them together again in new shapes of your own choosing. ❜ ❨1385❩ ❛ It’s a beautiful thing, the destruction of words. ❜ ❨1386❩ ❛ The choice for mankind lies between freedom and happiness and for the great bulk of mankind, happiness is better. ❜ ❨1387❩ ❛ Your mind appeals to me. It resembles my own mind. ❜ ❨1388❩ ❛ Reality exists in the human mind, and nowhere else. ❜ ❨1389❩ ❛ We do not merely destroy our enemies; we change them. ❜ ❨1390❩ ❛ How can I help it? How can I help but see what is in front of my eyes? ❜ ❨1391❩ ❛ You must try harder. ❜ ❨1392❩ ❛ Confession is not betrayal. ❜ ❨1393❩ ❛ What you say or do doesn’t matter; only feelings matter. ❜ ❨1394❩ ❛ If they could make me stop loving you —- that would be the real betrayal. ❜ ❨1395❩ ❛ Of pain you can wish only one thing: that it should stop. ❜ ❨1396❩ ❛ To die hating them, that will be freedom. ❜ ❨1397❩ ❛ No one ever seizes power with the intention of relinquishing it. ❜ ❨1398❩ ❛ What can you do against the lunatic who is more intelligent than yourself? ❜ ❨1399❩ ❛ To keep them in control is not difficult. ❜ ❨1400❩ ❛ So long as they are not permitted to have standards of comparison, they never even become aware that they are oppressed. ❜ ❨1401❩ ❛ The consequences of every act are included in the act itself. ❜ ❨1402❩ ❛ The essential act of war is destruction, not necessarily of human lives, but of the products of human labour. ❜ ❨1403❩ ❛ Stupidity is as necessary as intelligence, and as difficult to attain. ❜ ❨1404❩ ❛ I hate purity, I hate goodness! I don’t want virtue to exist anywhere. I want everyone to be corrupt to the bones. ❜ ❨1405❩ ❛ The past is dead, the future is unimaginable. ❜ ❨1406❩ ❛ You know the answer already. Everyone knows it. ❜ ❨1407❩ ❛ You don’t give a damn what they suffer. All you care is yourself. ❜ ❨1408❩ ❛ It is not easy to become sane. ❜ ❨1409❩ ❛ No emotion is pure anymore, because everything is mixed up with fear and hatred. ❜ ❨1410❩ ❛ They say that time heals all things —- they say you can always forget. ❜ ❨1411❩ ❛ The object of waging a war is always to be in a better position in which to wage another war. ❜ ❨1412❩ ❛ I sold you and you sold me. ❜ ❨1413❩ ❛ You do not exist. ❜ ❨1414❩ ❛ How does one man assert his power over another? By making him suffer. ❜ ❨1415❩ ❛ Obedience is not enough. Unless he is suffering, how can you be sure that he is obeying your will and not his own? ❜ ❨1416❩ ❛ Everything else we shall destroy – everything. ❜ ❨1417❩ ❛ Two and two makes five. ❜ ❨1418❩ ❛ Facts, at any rate, can not be kept hidden. ❜ ❨1419❩ ❛ The past is whatever the records and the memories agree upon. ❜ ❨1420❩ ❛ So long as human beings stay human, death and life are the same thing. ❜ ❨1421❩ ❛ If both the past and the external world exist only in the mind, and if the mind itself is controllable—what then? ❜ ❨1422❩ ❛ The lie became the truth. ❜ ❨1423❩ ❛ It is like swimming against a current that sweeps you backwards however hard you struggle. ❜ ❨1424❩ ❛ Turn round and go with the current instead of opposing it. ❜ ❨1425❩ ❛ It’s only after we’ve lost everything that we’re free to do anything. ❜ ❨1426❩ ❛ I don’t want to die without any scars. ❜ ❨1427❩ ❛ This is your life and it’s ending one moment at a time. ❜ ❨1428❩ ❛ You know how they say you only hurt the ones you love? Well, it works both ways. ❜ ❨1429❩ ❛ You are not your job, you’re not how much money you have in the bank. You are not the car you drive. You’re not the contents of your wallet. ❜ ❨1430❩ ❛ You are not special. ❜ ❨1431❩ ❛ You’re not a beautiful and unique snowflake. You’re the same decaying organic matter as everything else. ❜ ❨1432❩ ❛ The things you used to own, now they own you. ❜ ❨1433❩ ❛ Today is the sort of day where the sun only comes up to humiliate you. ❜ ❨1434❩ ❛ Maybe we have to break everything to make something better out of ourselves. ❜ ❨1435❩ ❛ Only after disaster can we be resurrected. ❜ ❨1436❩ ❛ Everything is evolving, everything is falling apart. ❜ ❨1437❩ ❛ We’ve all been raised believe that one day we’d all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars. But we won’t. ❜ ❨1438❩ ❛ Don’t you have other things to do? ❜ ❨1439❩ ❛ Prove you’re alive. If you don’t claim your humanity you will become a statistic. ❜ ❨1440❩ ❛ You have been warned. ❜ ❨1441❩ ❛ If you don’t know what you want, you end up with a lot you don’t. ❜ ❨1442❩ ❛ It’s not love or anything, but I think I like you, too. ❜ ❨1443❩ ❛ If I could wake up in a different place, at a different time, could I wake up as a different person? ❜ ❨1444❩ ❛ Why did I cause so much pain? ❜ ❨1445❩ ❛ The lower you fall, the higher you’ll fly. ❜ ❨1446❩ ❛ Maybe self-improvement isn’t the answer, maybe self-destruction is the answer. ❜ ❨1447❩ ❛ May I never be complete. May I never be content. May I never be perfect. ❜ ❨1448❩ ❛ Everyone smiles with that invisible gun to their head. ❜ ❨1449❩ ❛ We are not special. We are not crap or trash, either. We just are. We just are, and what happens just happens. ❜ ❨1450❩ ❛ The girl is infectious human waste. ❜ ❨1451❩ ❛ I want to destroy everything beautiful I’ll never have. ❜ ❨1452❩ ❛ On a long enough time line, the survival rate for everyone drops to zero. ❜ ❨1453❩ ❛ If you could be either God’s worst enemy or nothing, which would you choose? ❜ ❨1454❩ ❛ It is like you’re never really awake; but you’re never really asleep. ❜ ❨1455❩ ❛ Worker bees can leave. Even drones can fly away. The Queen is their slave. ❜ ❨1456❩ ❛ A moment is the most you could ever expect from perfection. ❜ ❨1457❩ ❛ The people you’re trying to step on, we’re everyone you depend on. ❜ ❨1458❩ ❛ You have to give up! ❜ ❨1459❩ ❛ Reject the basic assumptions of civilisation, especially the importance of material possessions. ❜ ❨1460❩ ❛ Without pain, without sacrifice we would have nothing. ❜ ❨1461❩ ❛ You have to realise that someday you will die, Until you know that, you are useless. ❜ ❨1462❩ ❛ A tiger can smile. A snake will say it loves you. ❜ ❨1463❩ ❛ Lies make us evil. ❜ ❨1464❩ ❛ If you died right now, how would you feel about your life? ❜ ❨1465❩ ❛ You always kill the one you love. ❜ ❨1466❩ ❛ Maybe we should always assume the worst. ❜ ❨1467❩ ❛ Put a gun to my head and paint the wall with my brains. ❜ ❨1468❩ ❛ Which is worse? Hell or nothing? ❜ ❨1469❩ ❛ A minute of perfection is worth the effort. ❜ ❨1470❩ ❛ You’re going to die, tonight. You might die in one second or in one hour, you decide. ❜ ❨1471❩ ❛ Lie to me. Tell me the first thing off the top of your head. Make something up. ❜ ❨1472❩ ❛ I don’t give a shit. I have a gun. ❜ ❨1473❩ ❛ I know who you are. I know where you live. ❜ ❨1474❩ ❛ Tomorrow will be the most beautiful day of your life. ❜ ❨1475❩ ❛ My philosophy of life is that I can die at any moment. And the tragedy of my life is that I do not. ❜ ❨1476❩ ❛ Everything is so far away, a copy of a copy of a copy. You can’t touch anything and nothing can touch you. ❜ ❨1477❩ ❛ There are a lot of things we don’t want to know about the people we love. ❜ ❨1478❩ ❛ We just had a near-life experience. ❜ ❨1479❩ ❛ If people think you are dying, they give you their full attention. They listen instead of just waiting for their turn to speak. ❜ ❨1480❩ ❛ I am nothing, and not even that. ❜ ❨1481❩ ❛ This isn’t really death. —- We’ll be legends. We won’t grow old. ❜ ❨1482❩ ❛ Stop trying to control everything and just let go. Let go. ❜ ❨1483❩ ❛ The amazing miracle of death, when one second you’re walking and talking, and the next second you’re an object. ❜ ❨1484❩ ❛ Only if we’re caught and punished can we be saved. ❜ ❨1485❩ ❛ I never thought about how important the sky was until I didn't have one. ❜ ❨1486❩ ❛ Dreams are like that: they go in and out of memories and scenes, but they're never real. They're never real, and I hate them because they aren't. ❜ ❨1487❩ ❛ Power isn’t control at all — power is strength, and giving that strength to others. ❜ ❨1488❩ ❛ A leader isn’t someone who forces others to make him stronger. ❜ ❨1489❩ ❛ A leader is someone willing to give his strength to others that they may have the strength to stand on their own. ❜ ❨1490❩ ❛ In the end, we are alone. ❜ ❨1491❩ ❛ It is like a piece of my soul is lost, empty. ❜ ❨1492❩ ❛ If my life on Earth must end, let it end with a promise. Let it end with hope. ❜ ❨1493❩ ❛ Sorry? Sorry isn't enough. ❜ ❨1494❩ ❛ Every single thing I ever loved is beyond my reach now. Everything I ever wanted. Everything I ever was. ❜ ❨1495❩ ❛ Will you stay with me? ❜ ❨1496❩ ❛ A leader doesn't make pawns - he makes people. ❜ ❨1497❩ ❛ Do you hear that? The pulse of life from your heart, the slow in-and-out from your lungs? Even when you are silent, even when you block out all noise, your body is still a cacophony of life. Mine is not. ❜ ❨1498❩ ❛ It is the silence that drives me mad. The silence that drives the nightmares to me. ❜ ❨1499❩ ❛ There is nothing between us but rain. There is nothing between us at all. ❜ ❨1500❩ ❛ I like a little chaos. ❜

[thatoneoverlyhornybitch]

Sheet Music

Regulus Black x Fem! Muggle! Pianist! Reader

Warnings: none rlly but kinda short, swearing, poor writing

It was a freezing cold morning, snow coming down heavily onto the streets of London. A very rare sight really, beautiful as well, but I didn't have time to appreciate its beauty. Instead I was angry, angry because I couldn't drive to the venue for my piano recital, and was stuck walking all the way in the snow.

It was approximately 4 miles away, and I had to be there in 30 minutes. I was fucked. Beyond fucked really. I tightened my bulky scarf around my neck, my teeth chattering loudly. "I fucking hate the snow..." I grumbled under my breath, my speed walking turning into full on running.

I lowered my sight to the barely visible sidewalk as I ran, not paying much attention to my surroundings. That was a huge mistake, as I incidentally ran into someone. Not one of those cheesy, I ran into their chest moments. No. This individual must have had their head lowered, as our heads collided into eachother with a loud smack.

"Ow ow ow ow, wait, shit, I'm so sorry!" I exclaimed immediately, backing away as I held my cheek which was definitely going to bruise. I met the grey eyes of a clearly annoyed man with pretty dark curls falling gently over his face.

He sighed, also holding his face as he stood up. "Watch where you're going." He made to walk away, but I yelled out.

"Wait a moment, do I, know you from somewhere?" I asked, feeling like I'd seen him before. He stopped and looked back at me, a clear face of confusion overtaking the annoyance.

"No? Why would I know someone like you?" He asked in a mocking tone, but he glanced about before saying it. Maybe someone he knew was around. I sighed, and shrugged my shoulders.

"Anyways I'm really sorry sir, I can buy you a coffee if you'd like, to apologize I mean." He stared at me, glanced around again, then nodded. "It will have to be quick but I could use a coffee, it'd warm me up some for sure."

"Oh yeah, same here, I'm in a hurry to my piano recital." He perked up a bit at that, as we began to walk in the direction of a coffee shop.

"You play?"

"Yepyep! Have since I was like, shit, 6? Maybe younger, I don't know, it's as long as I can remember." I scratched my head, cocking my head to the side as I looked at him.

"I've... I've always wanted to play, but my parents aren't the er, 'nicest'. Grades and blood status have always been a big deal to them."

"Blood status? What are you like, nobility or something?" He looked down, but gave a small nod.

"Something like that."

That explained the expensive outfit. "Well thats interesting, but because you now know I play piano, whats something you like to do? We should make conversation while we get coffee, I'd rather it not be too awkward."

He smiled shyly, avoiding eye contact. "I, like reading, and playing chess. Although I really wish I could play piano, I suppose I'll learn one day."

"I mean, I know we're strangers and all, but I'd be willing to teach you. Only if you want." His eyes widened, and a light flush went over his skin.

"W-would you? Are you sure? You don't have to, but I... I'd love that." A wide smile was now on his face, and hes somehow absolutely ethereal when hes happy.

"Of course, also what kind of coffee do you want?" I asked as we had already made our way to the shop.

"Um, the sweetest one available." I quirked a brow, and chuckled internally, kinda cute. We got our coffee and sat down at a table, discussing me teaching him.

"Oh yeah, I might as well skip out on my recital for today. I'd be late if I left now anyways." I murmured sipping from my coffee, he nodded absentmindedly seeming to have spaced out. "Oh yeah I forgot to introduce myself, I'm (Y/n) (L/n). Aspiring Pianist." I added the last bit with a chuckle.

His attention was back to me, and he gave a cute smile. "Regulus. Regulus Black."

-

I will be writing more parts! I wanted to make this one longer, but I have other drafts I'm working on right now. Hope you liked it<3

[professorrw]

Don't Fake It

marvel masterlist

Pairing: female reader x Peter Quill

Request: peter starts getting frisky with the reader but shes tired and isn’t really in the mood. He would never pressure her or anything but she wants to make him happy and feels bad saying no, so she does it and fakes her orgasm just to get it over with. Later, he somehow finds out (or knew all along, you decide) that she faked it and of course his ego is bruised and he’s kinda annoyed, but also feels guilty she didn’t tell him how she felt. So the next night, she starts coming onto him and he makes damn sure she never fakes it again. Then after, she apologizes for faking it and it gets kinda fluffy because hes like “hey, its not good for me if you’re not having as much fun as I am. I have a right hand if i’m that desperate.”

Warnings: smut, 18+, fluff, faking an orgasm, protected sex, rough sex

A/N: Requests open, taglist open, inbox open! Please like, comment, and reblog!

Sleep was calling your name, digging its claws into you and dragging you into the dark depths of slumber. But there was something stopping it. That thing was Peter. He was wide awake and his sex drive was in full throttle. You weren’t feeling up to it though. The long day at work had taken a toll on you, and the only thing you wanted to do was go to sleep.

You loved Peter, everything about him. You didn’t want to deny him sex, especially when he was being so sweet about it. Your back was to him so he could cuddle you while you slept, but he started to kiss your shoulders and the part of your back that was exposed by your tank top.

“Mmm what is it baby?” you asked groggily.

“I want you,” he replied unashamedly. You could feel Quill shifting his weight behind you. He was peering over your shoulder, trying to look at you. He had missed you all day and you were finally home. What he didn’t know was that you were tired, and not in the mood.

“Oh really?” you mumbled.

“Mhm, I missed you today.” You couldn’t see him but by his sweet tone of voice you could tell that he was sticking his bottom lip out and giving you puppy dog eyes. You smiled and turned around, cupping his face in your hands.

"You know you're adorable right?" you teased.

He smiled, "I know, that's why you can't resist all of this." He wiggled his eyebrows, making you laugh. He was just too cute. You didn't want to tell him no.

When you stopped laughing he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. The kiss quickly elevated, his hand snaking up your tight shirt and pressing heat against your lower abdomen. While your eyes were closed, sleep called your name once more, but you ignored it.

Peter pulled back for a minute and reached over to the night stand. He grabbed a condom and pulled his boxers down and put it on, tossing the wrapper back onto the table. He switched positions and crawled on top of you. His face drew closer and he kissed you while he pulled down your sweat shorts.

He got the lube too and squirted some on his covered dick and rubbed the leftovers around near your entrance. With dick in hand he guided his length into you, easing it in as to not hurt you. He let out a long sigh when he got to moving. At least he was feeling good, you thought. Peter was making you feel good too, but you were so tired that if it weren't for the movement you would have fallen asleep.

The pleasure wasn't building like it usually did. You wanted to cum, you wanted to show Peter that he was doing a good job. But you weren't feeling it, and you knew you weren't going to cum. You didn't want to hurt Peter's feelings so as he reached his peak speed and his head lolled back you moaned extra loud, "I'm gonna cum!"

"Me too," he groaned back. His hips pounded into you and his balls slapped against you as he came in his condom. You kept on moaning a little, acting like you had actually cum too.

Peter slowed then pulled out. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and went to the bathroom to clean up. He went to take his condom off and realized there was no cum on the outside of it. You said you had cum, but there wasn't anything other than lube on there. Quill didn't want to assume you had faked it, but he didn't want to ask right away either.

He threw the condom away and went back to your bedroom. You were already out cold, and when Peter saw he sighed and crawled into bed, completely dejected. He was embarrassed that he couldn’t make you cum, and a little annoyed that you wouldn’t just tell him. But he let those thoughts drift away so he could fall asleep.

The next morning you woke up early for work again. Peter was still asleep so you didn’t wake him and instead went about your morning routine. Three minutes before you needed to leave you wrote a little note on the refrigerator for him, “I hope you slept well hunny, I’ve already left for work by the time you wake up but I just wanted to say I love you and I’ll see you later <3”

About an hour later Quill rolled out of bed and dragged himself into the kitchen. He wasn’t a morning person by any means. The coffee machine beeped and he pushed himself off of the counter to pour himself a cup. He set his mug down on the counter and went to the refrigerator to get milk and creamer. Your note, which he noticed just then, made him stop mid pull. He shut the refrigerator and took the note off so he could get a better look at it. A tired smile spread on his face.

Then he remembered last night. It was odd that there wasn’t anything on his condom, and you didn’t get up to clean yourself off right after he did. Now that he thought about it, you went straight to sleep. How unusual. He pushed the thought aside and decided he would bring it up later. It wasn’t making him mad, but he was a little wounded that you had faked it, or if you even did fake it.

Lucky for you, work was slow and you got off early. On the way home you picked up lunch for you and Peter. It was in a way an apology for your tiredness last night and faking your orgasm, whether he knew about it or not.

Keys jingling together you unlock the door and step in with takeout in hand. “Quill I’m home!” you shout.

He power walks out of the bedroom and just about tackles you into a bear hug. You giggle and kiss his stubbled cheek. “I missed you,” you say into his ear.

“I missed you moooore,” he replies. “How was work?”

“Better than yesterday, I’ll tell you that. Plus I got off early, so that’s even better. I get to spend more time with you.” You kiss his cheek again and he smiles before setting you back down. The food gets set on the kitchen counter and you pull out the chinese you got. You hand Peter his usual order and take out your own.

There’s only the quiet sound of eating for a few minutes before Peter says something. “Y/N I need to ask you something.”

You look over at him. He rarely calls you by your first name. That means he’s being serious. “What is it?”

He wants to ask about your orgasm but you’re right in the middle of eating and he doesn’t want to interrupt you. He can just ask later, he thinks to himself. He thinks of something else to ask and quickly thinks of, “Can you pass me some soy sauce?”

You quirk an eyebrow at him but hand him a few packs and go back to eating.

Later that night, a few hours later, you were laying in bed doing nothing in particular. Thoughts of last night were filling both your heads. Peter was set on trying to ask you about it, and you were set on trying to make up for it.

The both of you were sitting up in bed and you set your phone down on your bedside table and leaned over. You set a hand on Peter’s bare chest and he instantly stopped what he was doing. His eyes shot to yours, a sly smile on your face. He could tell exactly what it was you wanted.

“Peter,” you whispered against his lips. Your mouth was an inch away from his and your eyes were drifting between his and his lips. He parted his mouth and leaned forward, capturing you before you could make a move. You were trying to take the lead, but he wasn’t letting you.

He overpowered you, flipping you around and putting you on your knees. His bulge was against your ass and he was rubbing circles against it. The intensity he was showing was like nothing before. Whatever it was that was riling him up you needed to find out. It would have to wait until later though, because your panties being dragged down your thighs was the only thing you could think of.

A condom and lube had already been taken out of the drawer, and Peter was putting them on. The room was silent other than the rustling of sheets and your heart hammering in your chest. Then there was the squirting of the lube and you knew it was about to come. The cold goo was smeared on your folds and slightly inside of them by Quill’s rough fingers.

His tip, covered by a condom, was right at your entrance in a second, and in just one more, it was inside you. Your whole body was pushed forward with the force that Peter was thrusting. You were moaning and panting, and he was smiling between his own groans. His goal was to make sure you never had to fake an orgasm again. And with the way things were going you wouldn’t need to.

“Oh- Oh my god!” The way he was slamming into you was so quick and hard the pressure inside of you was building like a balloon being blown up.

His hands were holding you and keeping you from falling over. If they weren’t you would have smacked into the headboard. You couldn’t stay on your hands any longer, you dropped to your elbows, back making a beautiful arch for Quill.

The unbearable speed was tiring Quill out, but it was also making his orgasm come even quicker. He grabbed your shoulders, giving himself even more leverage to thrust with.

Your knees were trembling, jelly below you. But you wouldn’t have to hold that position for much longer. That balloon inside you popped like too much air had been blown into it. Your walls clenched around Peter’s cock, and the cum he was searching for yesterday covered his condom. He kept his pace, legs killing him and pelvis hitting your ass.

He let out a loud groan, and cum leaked and squirted from his tip. He let go of your shoulders, seeing a red handprint there. He pulled out of you, your cum dribbling out when he did. He smiled, satisfied that he had done what he set out to do.

Your lower half ached and you all but collapsed onto your pillows. You flipped over and saw Peter above you, buttcheeks against the heels of his feet and catching his breath. You laughed just a little and he opened his eyes.

“What?” he asked.

“That was something else,” you admitted with a smile.

“Good.” He crawled onto his stomach and laid next to you with his head on his arms. You scooted over closer to him, laying on your back with your hands set on your stomach.

“Y/N,” he sat up, “last night,” he started.

“I already know what you’re going to say. I’m sorry. I should have told you. I was just super tired last night and I didn’t want to deny you.” You looked down at your stomach but Peter turned your face back to his with his thumb.

“It’s okay, really. I’m sorry I didn’t catch that you weren’t in the mood. If you ever don’t want to do stuff just tell me okay? I won’t be upset. Besides, it’s not good for me if you aren’t having as much fun as I am. I have a right hand if I get that desperate.” He waved his right hand and grinned.

You giggled, “I promise I won’t do it again.”

[c-e-d-dreamer]

Okay, I know hockey player versus figure skater is a super cliché rivalry, but all day today, my brain was like “hockey player Cassian! Hockey player Cassian! Hockey player Cassian,” so here we are. Also, fun fact, this exact event actually happened to my little brother at one of his games. TW for blood and injuries. Hope you enjoy :) @nessianweek

The cool rush of the air conditioning is the first thing that hits Cassian as he pushes through the doors. The throwback pop song pumping out of the speakers and the smell of popcorn from the snack bar hits him next. He shifts the strap of his bag on his shoulder, resettling the weight, his sticks clacking together in his other hand. He makes his way over to the board declaring the locker room assignments for the day, squinting until he finds the Illyrians. He's about to head off toward their locker room when his eyes snag on someone. 

Nesta is perched like a queen on one of the benches in the lobby, her white skates resting beside her. She has a sweatshirt pulled on, but the red skirts of her dress skim across her thighs, and Cassian can see the jeweled embellishments peeking out under the collar. Unsurprising, she has a book opened in her hands, probably another of her smutty romances. Even in the harsh fluorescent lighting, Cassian finds himself drawn into her eyes, the way they glint as they dance across the pages. 

Cassian doesn't have to think twice before he's sauntering over to her. He drops his bag with a loud thump at her feet, a smile pulling across his face at her answering glower. He loves this game they play. The way he pushes her buttons and she pushes his always leaves flames licking up his skin in the most delicious way. He's sure they make quite the sight, the hockey player and the figure skater, but he'll never stop going back for more. 

"What do you want, Cassian?" 

"Love the outfit today, Nes. The sparkles really contrast well with your dark soul." 

"Don't you have to go smash someone into the boards?"

"I'd love to press you up against the boards." 

Cassian throws a wink her way for extra good measure, and the way Nesta's eyes narrow has his heart ticking up slightly in his chest. 

"Prick," Nesta mumbles, opening back up her book. 

With a chuckle, Cassian takes it for the cue that it is, picking back up his bag and heading for the locker room. He offers Azriel an easy grin as he passes him, his brother merely shaking his head at his antics yet again. 

~ * * * ~ 

Nesta hears her sister before she sees her, Feyre's laughing bouncing off the walls of the lobby. She closes her book and grabs her skates, but as she heads for the door, her steps falter and pause as she takes in Elain walking in beside Feyre. 

"Since when does it take both of you to pick me up?" Nesta asks once her sisters are close enough to hear. 

"Actually," Feyre starts slowly. "We were thinking we could stick around for the game." 

"What," Nesta deadpans, taking in both her sisters' expressions and inwardly sighing when she sees they're both actually serious. "Fine. Give me the keys, and I'll pick you both up later." 

"Oh, Nesta," Elain says, taking Nesta's hand in her own. "It'll be fun. Besides, you and Cassian are friends. Don't you want to see him play?" 

"We are not friends." 

"That's for sure," Feyre pipes in. "There is way too much sexual tension for that to be considered friendship." 

Nesta shoots a glare Feyre's way, but her sister merely smiles innocently. The mischievous glint swirling in her eyes tells Nesta she's not getting the keys from her youngest sister anytime soon. Which is how Nesta ends up pressed between her two sisters, the cold of the metal bleachers biting into the underside of her thighs and a shared blanket draped across their three laps. Elain keeps clapping excitedly to her right while Feyre shouts, "go, baby, go" every time Rhysand cuts up the ice on her left. Nesta thinks her eyes might actually get stuck from rolling them so much. 

Despite the equipment and jerseys making it hard to tell the players apart, the whole team blending together into a mash of blues and gold's, Nesta finds she can pick Cassian out fairly easily. She tells herself it's because he's clearly the biggest guy on the team and the hair sticking out the back of his helmet is a dead giveaway. But either way, her eyes always seem to find him any time he's on the ice, whether he’s sweeping along the blue line to make a play or throwing his body against the other team. 

They’re into the third period when Nesta watches Cassian jump over the boards, joining the rush before falling back into the neutral zone as the other team gains possession. He guards his man well as the play shifts to their defensive zone, the other player trying and failing to shake Cassian loose. The player tries to deke around him, but Cassian is quicker, their sticks clashing together. 

It's like it all unfolds in slow motion. The puck popping up into the air between them. The other player raising his stick like he plans to bat the puck down. The stick colliding with Cassian's head. 

There's a collective gasp from the crowd watching the game as Cassian crumbles to the ice, falling onto all fours. And then there's red. A few drops at first, but soon it's a steady stream. It seeps into the ice, spreading out around Cassian like a crimson puddle. 

"Oh my gods," Feyre whispers.

"I hope he's alright," Elain chimes in. 

Nesta knows that her sisters keep speaking, but all she can hear is a ringing in her ears, like a high pitched screaming sinking its claws into her mind. Her hands fist into the blanket in her lap, and she watches with wide eyes as a trainer walks onto the ice, pulling the cage of Cassian's helmet up and sliding a towel under. With the help of two teammates, Cassian's on his feet and skates back to the bench. Nesta's stomach roils as one of the rink staffers and the referees scrape Cassian's blood from the ice, and even when the game resumes, she can't take her eyes off Cassian slumped over his knees on the bench. 

~ * * * ~ 

Cassian can't help but poke at the bandage on his forehead as he checks himself in the locker room mirror. It's still tender, and he winces at the pain that radiates from that spot. Definitely going to leave a scar. At least he got a goal tonight. Small victories. With a sigh, he shoulders his bag, grabbing his sticks by the door and heading for the rink exit. 

When he steps into the lobby, he finds Nesta standing there. Cassian knew that both her sisters were here earlier, but a quick sweep of his eyes around the room shows them nowhere to be found. When his eyes dance back to Nesta, she's already looking at him, something intense brewing in her eyes like storm clouds rolling in. It leaves Cassian captivated, and in a few strides, He’s standing in front of her, dropping his bag at their feet. 

"What are you still doing here, sweetheart?" 

Cassian throws as much cheek as he can into the question, letting that cocky grin he knows gets under her skin slide across his face. He expects Nesta to scowl, to make some snide remark back, to pick up their game right where they left off, but Nesta's face remains serious. He watches in confusion as she crosses and then uncrosses her arms across her chest, takes a deep breath like she's steeling herself. 

"I just wanted to make sure you're alright," Nesta explains, her eyes glancing up to the bandage before settling back on his own. 

"Oh," Cassian says dumbly, blinking down at Nesta a few times before his brain finally catches up. "It was just bad luck. Stick hit just right for one of the screws in my helmet to go right into my head." 

"It looked… bad." 

"Well, head wounds bleed a lot." 

Nesta nods and silence falls like a blanket between them. Cassian's brain kicks into overdrive, suddenly desperate to keep whatever this precarious moment is going, keep her talking to him, keep those eyes on his. It sparks in his chest like a piece of flint, fire burning under his skin. He's so busy floundering, trying to will his head and mouth to produce actual words, that he almost misses the frown that takes over Nesta's face, her eyes caught on his hand. 

"You're not thinking of driving, are you?" 

The sudden question takes Cassian by surprise, and Cassian’s brow furrows in confusion until he remembers his car keys are in his hand. 

"How else would I get home?" 

"You can't drive with a concussion."

"What makes you think I have a concussion?"

"How could you not have a concussion?" 

"If I had a concussion, why would I have gone back out on the ice to finish the game?"

"Because you're an idiot." 

Before Cassian can even splutter out a protest at the insult, Nesta is reaching forward and snatching the keys out of his hand. Then, for good measure, she reaches out and takes his sticks out of his hand too. 

"There's an Urgent Care like five miles away that should still be open." 

With that and a final, firm nod, as if she's decidedly made up her mind and Cassian can't change it, Nesta turns on her heel and makes for the doors. Cassian is left there gaping, blinking dumbly after her retreating form, while his sluggish brain tries to grasp what exactly is happening. Maybe he is concussed. Not giving himself another second to contemplate, Cassian scrambles to pick up his bag, tossing the strap over his shoulder as he hurries after Nesta. 

"Can I at least buy you dinner after?"

[falcqns]

Hi i have a request like a Chris Evans x reader and like the reader clean they’re house and chris have this book that he put like important stuff and the reader put that book on their coffee table and proceed to clean and when chris got home chris took a shower and find his book and he ask the reader and the reader said it was in the coffee table but when chris check it wasn’t there and chris got all mad bc it’s important and the reader said she will buy him a new one but chris said i will never be the same or something like that and chris stormed off and a few mins the reader saw the book but dodger have it he was ripping all the pages and stuff and the reader and dodge go to the shops and buy a new book for chris and when they got home chris was already there still mad and the reader gave the book to chris and the reader say something like “I know you said its not gonna be the same but I bought you a new one bc dodge kinda uh play with it” something like that and the reader apologized you can do whatever you want there, pls end it with a happy ending thankyou!

better than the original

pairing: Chris Evans x sensitive!Reader

warnings: angst, mentions of a DDLG relationship and little space, but no actual DDLG in this one, fluff, super sensitive reader (aka me, I cry over everything)

a/n: kind of a part two to "wrong person"?? readers not little in this, but its in the same universe!

you thought he would have been appreciative of you cleaning the house while he was on set, but to your surprise, he got mad.

"where's my book?" he asked, looking around the living room, disregarding all the work you'd done.

"I'm sure it's around here somewhere." you said, helping him look for his favourite book and trying to ignore the upset feeling in your stomach at the way he ignored the clean house.

he rounded the couch, and you heard him exclaim. "oh for fucks sake." he said, before storming off towards the bedroom. you furrowed your brow and walked around the couch. you sighed when you saw Dodger chewing on it, and ripping out the pages.

"Dodger! No!" you said. you took it away from him and placed it on the counter before going after Chris.

"we can always get a new one," you offered, but you knew that was the wrong decision when Chris turned around.

"that's not the fucking point, y/n! that was my favourite book, and even if we replace it it won't be the same!" he said, and he slammed the bedroom door shut behind him.

you felt tears coming to your eyes. you were insanely sensitive, and Chris knew that. he knew better than to yell at you, because you would start crying and wouldn't stop until you he assured you over and over that you weren't in trouble, and he wasn't mad or disappointed. you understood that he was upset, but it still hurt that he got mad and yelled at you, when you clearly didn't mean it.

you walked away and back to the living room and sat back down on the couch, where you remained for the rest of the night, your tears never ceasing. you were just trying to help, and show him you could be a good girlfriend and eventually wife, but instead you made him mad, and angry at you.

you spent a cold and lonely night on the couch, shivering from the cold that the knitted blanket couldn't block out, not wanting to anger Chris any further by joining him in the nice warm bed upstairs. just the thought of the bed made you eyes well up again, wanting nothing more than to cuddle up to him.

eventually, you woke from a restless slumber, and your tears retuned when you remembered that Chris was still mad at you. you glanced over to the book that still laid chewed up on the counter, and decided to go and try to find him a new one.

you stood up and grabbed your wallet and car keys, before leaving the house with Dodger on a leash.

you drove into town and found the first bookstore you could find. you walked in, and your eyes lit up when you saw they had just gotten a new shipment of them. for $15 you could get the regular book, or for $25 you could get a signed copy with a bookmark. you thought about it for a moment, but decided to get the signed copy, even though it cost more.

you paid for the book, and made the quick drive home, hoping that the book would put Chris in a better mood, if his sleep hadn't.

but, when you walked in the door, you knew that wasn't the case. the door shut behind you, and Chris came barrelling into the room.

"where the fuck were you?" he demanded, and your eyes widened. "ive been calling your phone, only to find out that you left it here, while you left, with my dog, might I add, to god knows where! why the fuck wouldn't you tell me where you're going? do know how stupid and immature that is?" he yelled at you. you tried to will yourself not to cry, but it was useless. he stood in front of you, eyes dark and face red. to you, he looked terrifying, and you wanted nothing more for him to go back to the nice Chris you thought he was.

tears slipped down your cheeks as you handed him the bag and Dodgers leash.

"I-i'm sorry. I k-know how much that b-book meant to you, a-and I just wanted to r-replace it so y-you won't be angry w-w-ith me anymore. I-I got the s-signed one to-o. it comes w-with a book mark. here-s your d-dog." you said before running off trying not to cry even more.

you ran into the bathroom, and to the linen closet where you had your little hideout. you climbed in and shut the curtain behind you, and let the tears come. you could feel your headspace approaching but you pushed it away.

you'd upset Chris, and he probably hated you for what you did. you knew that the book you bought could never replace the original, but you thought he would have liked it. you took Dodger with you because he needed some fresh air, and he loved going into stores with you.

you just wanted to prove you could be a big girl! that's all! he was really mad at you last night, so you knew even if you were little, you wouldn't get the care that you needed, so you pushed through and remained big for him, but even that wasn't good enough.

you don't know how long you sat there and cried your little heart out, but soon you heard Chris entering the bathroom. he took a seat somewhere and started to speak to you.

"y/n, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have gotten mad at you like I did. you didn't deserve that. you worked so hard on cleaning the house and I didn't even acknowledge it because I was focused on a book. I should've let it go when it happened because its a book. I was wrong. it can be replaced. the one you got me is so much better than the other one, and I love that you got it for me. I shouldn't have yelled at you. you're insanely sensitive, and you were probably already on the verge of tears when you came in the house, and me yelling at you was not the right thing to do. I could have asked you calmly where you were going, instead of getting angry." he explained. he waited to see if you would say anything, and when you didn't, he continued speaking.

"and I'm sorry for saying that Dodger was my dog. he's not. he's ours. you take such good care of him, and I know you were only entertaining him because I was still asleep, because your such a sweet girl. I'm so sorry baby." he said. you sniffled, and slowly crawled out.

you walked over to him, tears still pouring down your face, and leaned against him. he immediately embraced you, and rubbed your back as you cried.

"I didn't mean to make you mad!" you sobbed, and Chris shook his head.

"no baby. you didn't. I could never be mad at you for something like that. you're okay. i'm not mad, i'm not disappointed. you're not a crybaby, its okay to cry." he recited like he always did, squashing all your fears before they could even enter your head. he lifted your head to look in your red and swollen eyes.

"have you stopped crying since last night?" he asked, and you shrugged your shoulders.

"n-not really." you said, and Chris sighed sadly.

"c'mon. let's go back to bed for a little, it's still early." he said, and you followed him into the bedroom.

you drifted off less than a second after your head hit the pillow, and had a peaceful sleep knowing that Chris wasn't mad at you.