#blindsite

[embalmic]

@blindsite || loud & deafening silence || accepting!

indulge. find sweeney drinking to cope (as he always does 🫠)

southern louisiana air comes rolling through the french windows and shuttered doors hanging open on their rusty hinges. thick as molasses and carrying the smell of the mississippi, jasmine, magnolias and ferns from the gardens, and a petrichor from early morning fog. rain. mist rolled in from the river and the spray from half a dozen hoses and a street cleaner outside trying to wipe away the sin and debauchery of the quarter the night before. never help to try and doll up bourbon street a block away before she gets used, abused and tossed aside by a bunch of drunkards within a handful of hours..

new orleans only stops pouring to it's guests as long as it takes to give the bars and cobblestone streets a whore's bath. speaking of pouring and whore's baths? she's come barefoot down into the bar and she sees someone's right back out of the gutter she keeps finding him in and bellied up to the counter of an empty bar. several bottles are gone with the wind and he looks like he's drinking straight out of another one.

a tapered brow crooks up. pale arms that've gotten some of their color back cross over her chest. she won't say she took an extra few minutes staring at them this morning. laura doesn't say anything. she watches. teeth biting against the insides of her lips. until she starts to approach.

she's quiet when she climbs up onto the stool and then continues further and sits on the bar in front of him and to the immediate left avoiding the empty bottles til she reaches over and picks up one. blowing out a breath, she rocks it back and forth in her hand. silently, she sits it off to her side and lifts up the one he's working on now.

the liquor barely warms her throat on the way down. but it does. "did you sleep? or have you been doing this all night?" her bare foot bounces off his side. "you can drink as much of this as you want. i think you're way past the stunting your fucking growth part. sorry to say. you're stuck being a ginger giant forever." her way of saying what the fuck, stop worrying me..but hey..it's her. what do you expect?

[eatenlives]

she doesn't like getting these calls. summoned to a crime scene that yesterday didn't have anything to do with the behavioral analysis unit, or the fbi, but today has a pattern. death and destruction with too few clues to lead them anywhere. but she goes. every time, charlie goes and stares into the void and allows the void to stare back into her. there was very little she hadn't seen, and if she was being honest ( never out loud, never to anyone else ), it was getting harder to compartmentalize. relief washes over her when she realizes no children were involved in this case - she didn't know if that was something she could deal with, today - and then regret follows for feeling any sort of relief at a crime scene. charlie flashes her badge and walks under the yellow tape, stepping up to a familiar face with a greeting nod. 'detective greer,' she nods once before glancing out across the crime scene. 'i'm sure this isn't how either of us wanted to spend our morning. wish i was leaning over a steaming cup off coffee, right about now,' @blindsite.

[elencr]

´ ･ .  ✶ ━━      lips pull into a sad smile  as ellie sits herself down on the ground next to charlie.  her bakery wasn’t exactly in prime real estate (further into the city)  ,  but she was certainly close enough to the few clubs  ,  pubs and restaurants that many patrons would come in after dark for something sweet and/or savoury to eat in order to settle their stomach.  which means that ellie would always close closer to midnight on the weekend.

                         it hadn’t taken ellie too long to notice charlie’s tall form wandering close to the entrance  ,  only for him to turn around  ,  stumble and sit down on the pavement.  a soft laugh left the brunette as she leaned against the taller man’s shoulder.  “  you wanna come inside  ?  ”  ellie asked.  “  give you something for your stomach  ?  ”

╰   ––––––– ✧   @blindsite​​    :      asked      ❨  i got drunk and now i’m sitting on the ground.  ❩˙

[murdcck]

“you’re not dating anyone, are you?” @blindsite

IT WASN'T A PROFOUND QUESTION THAT DEMANDED MUCH THOUGHT, but Matt found himself taken aback & at a loss for words. People didn't ask that question unless they had something in mind, an answer they were hoping for. It'd be easy to say 'no' & be done with it, but it wasn't as simple as that — not with him. For a moment, he thinks back to the college years when Julian's heart would pick up in pace whenever their eyes happened to meet, how Matt always had the passing thought of 'well, this is charming,' but nothing more. At the time, his heart & mind had been consumed by the force of nature that is Elektra Natchios, and even in moments presently, she still lingers in the cracks of his soul. But she wasn't here now.

"I, UH... NO, I'M NOT." He's been asked this just recently in fact, by the prosecutor of the case he & Foggy'd been working on. He won, of course, but that was beside the point. Either way, this wasn't an uncommon query on Matthew's behalf, but it wasn't often he found himself struggling to find the words. This was different after all. Sure, he could tell Julian he was single, then maybe have a torrid affair that'll last a few nights, but that would.... ruin something. Something Matt didn't want to name just yet. Casually — almost too casually —Matt swivels his head to the source of a familiar beating heart. He shifts in his chair, a gesture that seems completely natural if one weren't looking close enough to spot the tension in his shoulders. "I'm not... not the best person to get involved with, Julian. And I don't think that's something I can willingly put you through."

HE STOPS SHORT, FEELS A FLAME BURN IN HIS CHEST. "If that's not what you were getting at, then forget I said anything."

[unbelong]

CHARLIE BAUER: IT'S VERY RUDE TO STARE. this happens, sometimes. definitely more times than honey would like. one of her clients would ask how available she was, start flirting with her during an interview, and sometimes - even when she tried to say she wasn't interested - they pursued her, anyway. and honey, she isn't that confrontational. she could take care of herself, but she liked to let people down gently ; she didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings. this guy just couldn't take a hint, no matter how blunt honey tried to be with him. standing, she had tried ushering the man out of her office, stating she could refer him to a different matchmaking company, but he kept talking over her, asking for her number, nearly commanding her to have dinner with him, all of which honey tried to deter him from with no success. she was beginning to get uncomfortable, and frustrated - cheeks turned pink and she tried to stop angry tears from welling in her eyes. luckily, that's when charlie walked in...

and caught the other man looking where he shouldn't have been. honey realizes that this meeting had taken so long that she was late for lunch with her boyfriend - something entirely uncharacteristic for her, and a notion charlie definitely noticed. thank god. honey takes a deep breath, putting on a polite smile, though it falters a bit when she sees charlie towering over her client. she recognizes the look in his eye, only having seen it once or twice ; never directed at her, of course, but she knew he got angry, sometimes. glancing from him to the other man and back, honey places a hand on charlie's arm, giving a gentle squeeze. ‘ he was just leaving, ’ she says, trying to keep a lightness to her voice. though when her client asks who the hell charlie is, she has to hold her breath, hand tightening just so on charlie's arm. she didn't want him to fight. maybe he could just convince the man to leave. that's all honey really wanted, anyway. @blindsite.

[acidcaught-a]

you don’t want to know what they did to me. / from sel

" you're right, i don't. " but she saw his story. the news blasted it all, the good and the bad, the smiles and the agonizing scream from acid-eating flesh. selina is all mystery, all questions and no answers, a sly black cat with sharper claws than harvey has had to handle on a woman. " but you can't keep that shit in forever, kitty. " he pours a second glass of whiskey on ice and pushes it over the table. " might as well spill it to someone who don't judge. "

[embalmic]

@blindsite || a meme from up in here! || accepting!

[ stormy ] sender arrives at receiver's doorstep soaking wet / from the giant perhaps in the au he meets her before canon events happen? before shadow and all

the storm that rolled is one of those early fall bangers. the kind where summer's fighting like hell to hang on and losing the battle. thunder hits so hard that it makes the wooden framed windows of her house rattle each time it claps. and the rain? the rain pummels the glass on the east side of her house. and the roof? it beats against it in an unending downpour of an orchestral delight. laura loves nights like this. where the power's gone out and she's got dozens of candles lit all around the place. but especially the living room and hallway.

cause she's curled up there with a blanket and a book. mostly reading the novel but more or less simply enjoying watching the lightning dance across the sky and listening to the thunder roar. a battery powered radio says that there's a tornado warning in the county over. best to keep it on and make sure it doesn't spread her way. but she's got a basement and isn't too nervous. devil may care that a tornado warning's gonna put her on edge anyway.

not during her favorite weather.

she barely hears the first knock on the door. chalking it up to the thunder until her cat reacts and goes dashing down the hallway towards it like the dog it thinks it is. a frown of a glance towards the empty hallway and she tugs her blanket up over her shoulders. feet hit the floor. laura goes to the door after the second round. on her tip toes, she looks through the peephole. she's got no idea who the guy is but he's fucking huge. a bang of thunder ends her cat's convictions and sends it skittering back towards the living room. but she fastens the chain lock in place and opens the door..

something in her just has her hand moving. like that chain's gonna keep a guy his size outside if he wants to come in. guess we know she's not surviving the horror movie, after all. fuck. not a smart idea, laura. mentally, she rolls her eyes at herself. outwardly? she moves her gaze up at him. does she know him? a crease forms between her brows. he's soaking wet. there's no huge butcher knife or anything in his hand. that's a plus. "hi...? uhm.. i think you're at the wrong house.." least he's out of the rain for now? her porch might be the first dry spot he's had by the looks of it.

[wuffgang-ameowdeus-moozart]

kaladin: my chemical romance, the mountain goats, simple plan; listens mostly by artist

shallan: hayley williams (solo), femtanyl, the crane wives; 20k+ playlists

adolin: the spice girls, lemon demon, beethoven; everything into one huge heap, no organisation whatsoever, doesn't help that he has an indiscrutable music taste meaning if he gets his hand on the speaker you will be completely blindsited at least once

[unbelong]

HAZEL BALFOURT: WHY ARE YOU TALKING LIKE WE WILL NEVER SEE EACH OTHER AGAIN? there are a few ways omen thought that this could end, and this had been one of the few he hoped it wouldn't come to. he and hazel had been sneaking around for some time, evading the watchful eye of their mentors so that they could be with one another. omen never saw it as fair that crawley and esmeree's enemyship had been passed down to them. and now, omen had been caught, and even the admission of love for hazel to crawley was not enough to keep the wizard from forbidding omen to see hazel again. omen couldn't, however, simply never speak to hazel again. he needed to explain. he needed to see her one last time. ‘ crawley will not allow this to continue. as soon as i return, i'm sure he will keep a watchful eye over me from now until he's gone, ’ omen takes hazel's hands in his own, eyes meeting hers with a deep sadness. ‘ if i have not told you enough, i love you. if this is our last meeting, i want you to know it entirely. and should we meet in the future, when our elders are gone, i want you to know it will remain the same, no matter the time or place, ’ @blindsite.

[acidcaught-a]

“Sorry I was willing to be vulnerable with you. Do you still think I’m hot?” / from sel lmao

" i swear to god, selina. " he rubs his hands over his face, adjusts the patch over the blind eye on the side of his scarred features, and turns his head. the beer in his hand is still icy cold as he brings the bottle to his lips. the other hand reaches for another and he tosses it to selina. it's up to her to drink it. " don't mind me, i was just picturing the leather costume. didn't hear a word you said. " yes he did, selina. yes, he heard every syllable, committing them to a memory that often fails. part of him understands.

[eatenlives]

spooky mulder wasn't so spooky. there were scarier things than aliens, ghosts, and ghouls. the two humans that brought her into life had been so ready to take her out of it at their first chance, which was much worse, in charlie's mind. so as she approached the agent's basement office - goosebumps rising on her arms, not because of the destination, but because of the lack of heat in this particular hallway - she did so with ease. knuckles rap on the door a couple of times, waiting for the go ahead before she opens it and steps inside. 'smells like takeout in here,' charlie says with a hint of a grin ( look away, and you might miss it ). a stack of folders was dropped from her arms onto his desk, away from the current one he was looking at. 'i was told to bring you these. maybe you can tell the others i'm not a secretary. or a messenger,' she sounds sarcastic, but it's not directed at him. @blindsite.

[slasharch2]

omen & hazel.   @blindsite.

[bendableparts]

selina kyle  ,  ( city view ) our muses getting frisky up against a window. + i won’t bite. unless you’re into that sort of thing.

♡  ˙  *  ✧  their relationship was slow going. selina’s walls were sort of hard to penetrate, and barbie didn’t want to push her. but the blonde slowly began to take down those barriers, brick by brick, and perhaps that’s what has lead to the events of the night. a bottle of wine had been drank. it wasn’t barbie’s favorite, she favored rosé, but he enjoyed the sweet red chardonnay, all the same, because she had been drinking it with selina. barbie found herself giggling into her glass, before too long, the night still young, even when they decided to sit a bit closer on the sofa. barbie was happy to have selina there, away from the center of gotham city, even if it was just for the night. freshly manicured hand had found it’s way onto selina’s leg in a fit of laughter, only for barbie to look at selina for her reaction. when the other woman placed her own hand atop hers, barbie knew that she had finally made some progress.

later in the night, barbie wanted to show selina the view of the city from the windows facing outward. they’re vast, take up most of the wall, and everything looked so small and bright from up there. barbie gave a sigh and turned to selina, only to find the other already looking at her. she doesn’t know who reached out first, who leaned into the other, but now that she was pressed against the window, one of her legs around selina’s waist with her hand on barbie’s thigh, she didn’t care. the words that are murmured into her ear cause another giggle to escape barbie, low and sweet, this time.  ‘ i could be, ’  she practically coos back, glossy bottom lip brought between her teeth as she enjoys selina’s mouth at her neck.  ‘ if you’re the one doing it, i’m sure i’d be into just about anything, ’  the way she blushes only proves her point.     @blindsite.

[betterdcyz]

@blindsite​ ( crowley ) / short starter ( accepting )

              “so,  what do you hide behind those sunglasses,  hm?” 

[conziergearch]

awake .     the sender,  unable to sleep,  gets up to go for a walk,  and finds that the receiver is also unable to sleep.     fox mulder,  @blindsite​.

                   there’s a trail,  following the traffic up to where the forest meets the road :   somewhere between the thicket,   hidden behind towering trees,   she knows is a river.   it pours off a cliff,   plunges its weight into the deep where stone is stripped and bare.   it isn’t home,  no place is.   but as silent footfall follows the reassuring movement of her dogs as they navigate through the dark of the night,   she feels the distant murmur of singing water lure her into something akin of warmth,   like an old friend welcoming her back in steady arms.   eyes catch sight of him when he recognises the crunching of leaves and the tamaskan responsible for it.   her hands,  she pulls from the pockets of her coat,   leans against the railing of a small bridge overlooking the cascade ;   she’s not spoken to him after her move,   not really ever since that case and what happened ――   between them,  at that motel.   then again,  his apartment.   and even then,   the memory’s burned itself into every inch of her skin :   his arms,  his hands,  his mouth.   as silence persists,   she thinks she could have beckoned her companions to leave him be,   but doesn’t dare to.   doesn’t dare to speak anything for a long time.     “ they like you, ”     it eventually comes murmured.   but whatever it’s meant to be followed with,   dies on her tongue,   and she looks at him.     “ what happened to your sister ?   you mentioned…   losing her.   you never said how. ”