#on the brink of Fine I'll Do It Myself
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hawnks · 3 months ago
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"Possessive lover ML" recs keep letting me down
At no point should the words "If you don't want this, I'll leave you alone" leave his mouth.
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sotc · 7 months ago
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Hurricane Groceries (it is different from regular groceries I assure you lol) has been bought. Some other stuff I have to do around the house to prep but I'll tackle that through the rest of today and tomorrow. Fully expecting a power outage but hoping 1) it won't happen too early into weathering the storm and 2) won't be longer than 24 hours.
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running-with-kn1ves · 10 months ago
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Desperation
A/N: I wrote something very similar to this with the Belsire previously but I couldn't help myself 🙏
Belsire: male equivalent to the Beldam (Coraline)
CW: kidnapping, manipulation, sewing needles
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A beautiful lullaby hummed against your ear, fog-like breath both chilly and thick caressed against its shell.
You never imagined that he could sew; sure, he was keen to cook you extravagant dinners, you never saw him clean despite the crooked house always spotless, and the clothes that were put in your drawers were consistently washed-- but such delicate needlework? You didn't think the creature had it in him. His fingers seemed made for it though, long and spindly and black at the tips, they held the needle at a fine point, without having to lick the end of the thread before putting it through the eye.
"Stab the needle through the eye....wrap two knots around the tongue, and pull it out the mouth."
His low, rasped voice was unlike anything you've heard from the men in the "real" world. Its croaky demure made sound as if his vocal chords were on the brink of snapping. It was very few and far between that his voice resounded throughout the house in a thunder-like boom.
Tonight, was not one of those nights. Not unless you made an effort to wrangle out of between his stick-like forearms in the wooden chair and began yelling ungrateful spiels whilst staying in HIS house. He said it was yours-- your "other home," but since the gateway tunnel back to your original 1-bedroom apartment became nothing but sturdy drywall with a key hole, its been his. It was always his, you were just too blind to see past the beautiful illusions built for you.
"Just like that... mending is simple work."
You feel his left hand, the one once holding your torn cardigan steady, reach up to lay a cold finger beneath your chin. It rubs back and forth, relishing in the warmth of your throat, the soft flesh between your jaw and jugular.
The Belsire seemed to enjoy running his smooth, icy digits along your naked skin, brushing from side to side, up and down to dip against your collar bone. He relished your warm-bloodedness from how often he took advantage of it. It was a wild contrast to his ever-frozen, rigid body draped in fine blacks and bruised shadows.
"C-can you show me again?" You plead, hoping the end of this activity wouldn't be the finale before your demise. Each time you have one of these "bonding" sessions the Belsire encourages you to entertain him with, you anticipate it being your last.
Each day you wait and wait... wondering if he's hungry again, if it'll hurt, if you'll make one more frustrated comment away that'll make him snap and pick your bones clean.
"Again..?" He tapped thrice on your neck, a twitching habit that sent cold shocks through you. "Why don't you try it yourself this time, dear?"
The sweet, affectionate name oozing from his lips was unnatural-- and yet, perfectly normal for the creature of love seduction. How many had fallen for that same adoring title, only to find themselves now locked in his stomach?
You couldn't tell anymore what was genuine adoration, or a disturbing method at getting you to put your guard down. When he was angry with you, for hiding or attempting another escapade to get back home,  'dear' transformed to spits of "insolent one" and "maddening human", at the very least. On his worst days you were a bewitching, dimwitted little creature too stupid to be let free- better off in his hands if not crunched between his teeth.
"I'm not too sure, I might..accidentally stab myself with the needle, you know?"
You shrug in feigned helplessness, hoping your lack of enthusiasm wouldn't tick him closer to the dark side.
"If you do, then I'll lick your wound and we can start again. Give it a try, won't you? I've seen your work on my coats," he mumbles lowly at the rest of his comments, "and that damned quilt you seem keen to keep."
He muses at the mention of your skilled handiwork you sneak to do when he's gone away at "none of your concern" events. However he knew of your activities in this prison cell while he was out didn't surprise you; the house had eyes, in places you'd rather not think of.
You took the needle from within his delicate grasp, mahogany red thread swinging loose and ready to be tightly wound in your wine colored cardigan.
You copy the movements he had done a million times, though you really weren't watching when he had. It was hard to concentrate with your body shivering, waiting for a sharp dagger or set of teeth to find it's way buried in your back.
The Belsire seems to ease up as you begin to complete the torn cardigan hole, placing two abnormally long hands upon the sides of your shoulders.
"Don't move," he grumbles, almost annoyed at the idea. "Smooth and quite warm... I never understood the pleasure of keeping food around longer than it's due date. But you, little button... why, you're almost opening a soft spot inside of me.."
You didn't like the sound of that. A soft spot within him would certainly be something he sought to squash.
"Are you sure you want a soft spot? I'm not even sure where that would be."
You almost laugh at your own joke, imagining his crisp limbs deflated. If you were making a soft spot, you best keep at making it grow.
"It seems you force it in me, whether I like it or not. I enjoy having you to myself, to come home to... even if the idea that you're taking part of me, is... infuriating."
The Belsire leans deeper into you, pressing the inside of his thighs against yours, craning his neck downward.
"The unfortunate part is, I think I may fall apart if you disappear."
You see the looks he gives from the corner of your eye; dark, empty buttons staring into you, awaiting your reaction. Was this another attempt to swoon you?
"Then I guess that means you can't eat me."
You sigh, hoping he'd agree. And oddly enough, he cracks a grin.
"I guess not. Though, don't hold your breath. I can't make any promises as to what my temper will lead to." The bridge of his nose is uncharacteristically pressed against your cheek, black dots boring holes into you. "On the topic, I'd be less inclined to eat you if you accepted my present..."
You round off the last bit of stitching, only to see an all too familiar velvet box on your left. It was open, music box playing a soft melody as a range of colors and sizes in buttons were available to view.
"I... I still can't, give you an answer." You go back to tying an end to the thread, praying for the Belsire's eerily calm mood to stay uninterrupted.
He goes quiet, habitually running a thumb down the shell of your ear. The chill was almost welcoming, soft flesh touching your heated one. It felt... genuine, a form of physical affection that was done for his pleasure more than your own. It would be comforting, if you weren't waiting for him to explode.
"I expected as much," he calmly huffs, shutting the box with a single finger. Its harsh snap made you drop the thread. "But you can't expect me to wait forever; you aren't going home. You will remain here, either as my slave, or my spouse. The difference is whether I have to force these buttons on you, or you take them willingly."
"I.. I just need a little more time. I haven't-- I'm not-- done adjusting. I'm not used to this world, like you."
You've given up pleading; for all you knew, there was no way back home that either of you could conjure. This was your fate.
Like a doll he dressed and cleaned and made a perfect dollhouse for, you were to sit here and provide him the comfort he could not create on his own. Like a god, creating his creatures of free will, he relished in the uniqueness you offered without him having to fabricate it first, the obedience you gave from fear in your own desire rather than a direct command.
A long silence left the air hanging stagnant, your patchwork sitting in front of you, finished and yet not quite the same as it once was. Why couldn't you go to the store and buy a new one, spend frivolous money and speak to the miserable cashier that reminded you humanity was still alive?
"...Fine. But not much longer, my sweet button...this-- mortal flesh still tying you to your world, has kept me at a distance I do not wish to stand at." A soft kiss, from creased, inexperienced lips touched the top of your cheekbone. "I want you for myself... I don't like not getting the things I want. And, I want you far more desperately than I imagined."
His voice was stoic, gentle and logical despite the romantic lines that were fed to you. Spindly fingers pulled back pieces of your hair, caressing the skin on your face with soft strokes. Like a human would do to an animal, running his knuckles against your cheek and his fingertips along your jaw.
Just a simple touch and turn of your chin was all it took to make you look at him.
"Don't make me wait. I will have you, and I want it to be because you will it. Please, don't make me do what neither of us want."
His tongue was warmer than his touch, somehow. Maybe it led to his even warmer heart, but you doubted it. Even with the way both his large, balmy palms were gripping beside your ears, pulling your face to touch his in a dance of lips and stolen breath, you wondered if this was just another web of lies spun to create your damnation.
But the desperation in how he swallowed you whole, pulling your hands away from the touchy needlework he was once keen on making you finish-- there was something human about it all, something touchy and irritable and obsessive. If he wanted you desperately then, you could only imagine how horribly ridden he was now, feeling your warmth as he made you colder with his hands and wrists, him never changing.
You peeked an eye open, wondering if those buttons stayed all-seeing, all watching, even when you kissed.
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rottenpumpkin13 · 4 months ago
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Do you think that since Shinra is such a massive company, does SOLDIER have to deal with office buraucracies? I wonder how Sephiroth would fare against endless forms hell
Oh SOLDIER is buried in bureaucratic nonsense just like everyone else. There are at least ten forms to fill out, five meetings to attend, and three "approval processes" standing between you and basic necessities. Some notable mentions include:
• Angeal once requested a new desk after his old one broke. HR demanded visual evidence that the desk was no longer functional. Instead of sending a photo of the broken desk, he sent a picture of Sephiroth sitting cross-legged on the floor, attempting to fill out reports with a clipboard. Approval was immediate.
• The bureaucracy is so profound that Genesis had to fill out three forms to request a form that would allow him to request permission to submit a complaint about there being too many forms.
• Sephiroth was reprimanded for "recklessly abandoning office duties" after taking a walk around Sector 0 to clear his head. HR made him fill out a Behavioral Justification Form, which included the question: "Would you do it again?" Sephiroth, fed up, wrote "Next time, I'll be shirtless, drunk, and loudly negotiating rates with the nearest sex worker." The form was mysteriously approved with a note: "Do not."
• Zack submitted a vacation request to visit home. The system flagged "Gongaga" as an unrecognized destination and required him to submit a "Geographical Verification of Existence" form. When he pointed out that there's literally a reactor in Gongaga, they wrote back and told him that Gongaga doesn't exist. Zack had a nervous breakdown and had to be sedated.
• Angeal had to submit a Proof of Sword Ownership form before being allowed to requisition maintenance supplies for the Buster Sword. When he pointed out that he's literally the only person in the building with a sword that large, he was asked to provide a sworn affidavit from at least two witnesses. Genesis and Sephiroth were the two unhelpful witnesses, and respectively wrote "His sword is big~" and "Give the man his oil."
• Genesis tried to requisition a coffee machine for the SOLDIER lounge but was told he needed to prove "sufficient caffeine demand." In response, he submitted a video of Zack beating the energy drink vending machine with a crowbar when it was broken.
• Speak of the vending machine, Genesis once wrote "Banora White juice" under the refreshment preferences requisition form. This triggered a four-week investigation into whether Banora White products posed a "brand conflict" with Shinra's drinks. Genesis was fined for "improper beverage selection." He then showed up to HR with a pipe bomb the next morning and was consequentially banned from the floor.
• Genesis (this is after he was banned) once had to provide official proof of his own existence to be approved for a company ID renewal. He submitted all his paperwork and was denied. He then threw a can of Banora White juice through the glass doors of the entrance, shattered it, and was banned from filling out forms.
• Sephiroth tried to get the broken lights in the training room fixed. Maintenance requested "Proof of Insufficient Illumination." He sent them a pitch-black photo with the note: In photo: Myself doing "thumbs up" gesture.
• God forbid you need something urgent. Zack needed a first-aid kit for training injuries, and they made him submit a "Medical Incident Form" to prove people actually get hurt during combat simulations. Angeal wasn't having it, so they malicious compliance-d their way out of it by carrying Sephiroth, pretending to be on the brink of death, up to the HR office to show them.
• Sephiroth requested blackout curtains for his quarters to block the constant glare of Shinra floodlights. They asked for proof of "adverse effects caused by lighting." He sent them a picture of himself, showcasing his dark circles and an expression so deranged that they sent him the curtains, along with a wellness check request.
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strayflowersstarsandlove · 8 months ago
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Kiki's delivery service (bangchan)
Rearranging your legs underneath you for the 5th time, you squish your cheek onto Chan's pectoral, breathing in the delicate scent of his laundry detergent and his cologne. Pain will make you miserable and achy but it won't ruin your Friday night with him. It's imperative.
Chan has usually so little time off you jumped at any occasion to spend a quiet night in forcing him to catch up on Studio Ghibili movies. He needed the culture and you needed the lazy late night cuddles on the couch. Period pain be damned.
"You've been quiet an awful lot tonight...", Chan mumbles softly, not fully averting his eyes from the screen as he leans in to kiss your temple, "is everything okay?", he asks, subtly referencing the fact that you and Jisung had basically ganged up on him and forced him to begin his journey through Miyazaki works of art. And also the fact that you'd usually ended up spoiling every single scene for him cause you needed to explain everything into the tiniest little details.
Also also referencing the fact that you tended to go silent whenever you were suffering. Whether it was mental pain or physical pain, you tried your best to power through it, grit your teeth and stubbornly keep going until you were on the brink of another mental breakdown.
He was always there to pick up your pieces and glue them back together. And you loved him for it, even though you felt bad for making him feel like you were another one of his responsibilities, someone he had to take care of, but you were so grateful for him as well and it wasn't like you could really help it, he had this deeply rooted nurturer in him that made him care for you so effortlessly whether you wanted him to or not.
Chan was also super attentive and perceptive. He picked up on every single one of your little details and quirks and peculiarities. Which meant that he definitely knew you weren't okay at the moment, he was just gently letting you know... without letting you know.
You sigh as another stab of pain hits your lower abdomen and it makes you squeeze your eyes shut and hiss in pain, what a perfect timing to just blatantly lie to your very smart very intuitive boyfriend: "yeah, yeah everything's fine. Just tired".
Chan ponders for a second before deciding to just take the matter into his own hands. By literally doing so. He pauses Kiki's Delivery Service just as Kiki's flying on her broom above the ocean with the seagulls and cradles you in his arms until you're sitting in between his thighs.
Which is very normal behavior for cuddle monster Channie.
Until he just stills for a second, hands hovering over your torso, legs pressed firmly against yours so you can't move. And then he attacks you with tickles.
The air in your lungs is sucked out so fast you're crying laughing one second and gasping and wheezing the next: "PLZEASE CH-CHANAHAHAHAHAH I'M HAHAHA I'M - I'M DYING".
And you're not even exaggerating. Your tummy was already aching and your muscles tense that the added strain and effort of catching your breath makes your stomach do somersaults in between the sharp daggers digging at your uterus.
You try to squirm and thrash out of his grasp to no avail, "hahaha tell me the truth and I'll spare you hahaha, that's your only way out", he laughs and squeaks and if it wasn't for the fact that you're currently focusing all your energies on not passing out from the pain and the laughter you would have already jumped at his neck and kissed him silly because of how cute he sounds: "FIN-AHAHA FINE YOU HAHAHA YOU-AH YOU WIN HAHAHA".
He immediately stops and settles you back down in your former spot, hugging your sides and patting your tummy until you calm down your breathing again. You inhale deeply, grimacing a little from the pain, your hand reflexively reaching for his own as you give it a little squeeze.
"I'm about to get my period. I've been silently crying and screaming at myself for the last couple of hours. And you're fucking perceptive and I can't hide anything from you", you pout, finally spitting out the truth, "okay... And you didn't tell me because?", he goads on, sighing you turn to face him, kind eyes and an encouraging smile on his lips as he holds you close, "because... I feel like you already have so many things to worry about, you're always taking care of me and the boys and working over time and stressing about everything, I don't want to add onto that".
The man with impossibly perfect features sighs right back at you, not in an annoyed manner, more a self assured one:"you're not adding onto anything, y/n. You're the only person I can actually fully relax and just be me, just be Chris with. No idol duties, no leader ones, no big brother or producer or captain of everything ones. I don't HAVE to take care of you, I WANT to. I want you to be happy and well looked after and in a way it's even selfish, cause if you're happy and thriving then I'm happy and thriving, it's like an osmosis thing", he giggles.
You turn in your seat and playfully roll your eyes at him as you cup his cheeks and peck his lips, "there's not an ounce of selfishness in your entire body, babe. And you have a pretty god damn gorgeous body, at that".
He giggles so loudly he starts squeaking again, triggering your cuteness aggression. You kiss him all over his face and nibble at his reddened ears, you only stop once he's gone completely silent laughing, breath hitching, the most perfect pearly whites on full show as he smiles brightly at you and pulls you flush to his chest, "my baby girl", he sighs, his voice barely above a whisper, "I promise you don't stress me out at all, and that I like taking care of you", he insists, leaning in to kiss you, "now, is your tummy hurting really bad? Is there anything I can do to help? Belly rubs? A heating pad? Painkillers? ".
You know you'll never win this battle. You know he'll never stop making you feel alllll the butterflies no matter what he says or does cause it's just second nature to him being this kind and wholesome. You shake your head lightly and stroke his cheek, "I'll be okay. You're my heating pad", you snicker, positioning yourself with your back fully resting against his chest, his arms coming around you in a swift move,warm hands flat on your tummy.
You reprise the movie and for a while everything seems to be going smoothly. The pangs in your guts are still very much present but your boyfriend gentle rubs on your stomach are surprisingly soothing.
Eyelids fluttering almost close, you feel yourself relaxing more and more, progressively loosing focus on Kiki, much to your dismay. Up until Chan's hand start shifting closer and closer to the waistband of your pants. He acts completely nonchalant about it, one palm still rubbing soft circles over your tummy and the other inching down... down.
A tingling sensation crawling all over you, a warm rush to your chest, you swallow down quietly, feeling the muscles in your neck tensing up by the second, perhaps in anticipation. The rooms quiet, or the sound of your fast heartbeat has just drowned out any other sound, you're not sure, but Chan's quiet. He's very quiet even as he stealthily slips one finger, and then two fingers down underneath your pants, he traces small stripes over the fabric of your underwear, slow at first, his wrist barely flicking.
Thin fingers but rough, finger pads, he starts running his fingertips in circle motion over the areas he deems more sensitive, letting the hitch in your breathing guide the intensity of his motion, the speed of it, the direction of it. As soon as he's satisfied with the way you're reacting to him, he picks up his pace just slightly, a low, satisfied chuckle finally emerging from his mouth when your thighs visibly start to twitch, a boost to his ego, means he's doing something right, very right.
It's as if all the blood in your body starts running faster and faster, rushing through your veins at incredible speed only to then concentrate all at once, all of it at your centre, and with the friction generated there, you can't help but whimper, your abs contracting and relaxing almost spasmodically, the daggers of pain alternating with pleasure that comes in a wave that builds up and up and up.
A trickle of sweat down your spine, you clutch Chan's unoccupied wrist and squeeze, jolting upwards in an arch as you feel yourself approaching your high more and more, "i-I-", words come out of your mouth in whimpers, you try to articulate a single thought but manage nothing even remotely intelligible, Chan's hums softly and kisses your cheek, his lips lingering on your dewy skin, "yes, baby girl? don't hold back, don't hold back and come for me", he taunts in a sing songy voice, cooing and breathing softly in your ear.
And that's enough to send you over the edge.
Choking on the strangled noise bursting out of you, release washes over you. No more pain twisting your guts, just pure bliss.
You close your eyes and relax back into the arms that hold you, breathing hard and laboriously while Chan taps his fingers around the wetness, a satisfied snicker rolling off his lips, the very same lips now kissing your shoulder and the side of your neck so tenderly, "good girl, such a good girl for me eh? you're feeling all better?", he asks sweetly, moving a wisp of your hair away from your face with his unused hand, to which you nod and smile bashfully, still feeling oh so wonderfully numb and light and darn good.
The movie paused, yourself and the couch all cleaned up, you settle back on the leathery seat cushion and finish up the last few drops of your glass of water while Chan himself is cleaning up in the washroom, a stupid smile on your face that you just can't wipe off, you adjust in your seat and cross your arms over your tummy that gargles with unholy sounds of hunger and unrest, perhaps.
And then gushing. Warmth. Not the feel good kind, though.
You jump on your feet and immediately spot the enlarging smear of blood on the couch, a frenzy on panic immediately taking over you just as your boyfriend walks right in: "oh my god I'm so sorry oh my god oh my god I'm.. I'm-mortified oh my god", you start rambling and shaking and hurriedly pat around your inner thighs, growing exponentially alarmed when your palms come back pinkish.
"Hey hey it's okay, y/n it's okay, I promise", Chan promptly scrambles to you and cups your cheeks, locking eyes with you and immediately reading the discomfort in them, "I think you left some tampons in the third drawer of my nightstand, go check, and grab any of my clothes to change into,you'll be okay, it's okay, don't worry about a thing", he reassures, patting your head, that wonderful encouraging smile of his taking up his whole face.
"B-but your couch and-oh my god this is so embarrassing this is awfu-", you start but Chan merely giggles and gently shakes your shoulders, "BABE!!", he exclaims firmly, making you snap out of your panic and fall silent, "stop apologising, start washing up, this is absolutely fine, the couch is going to be just fine. Go, I got this", he instructs in a gentler tone, even winking at you reassuringly.
And you swear that's all you needed. That fragment of complicity, reassuring gesture that instantly calms you down.
The fabric of his shorts goes swish swosh around your knees but it's so soft from wear and tear that you kind of love it, you think to yourself, jogging downstairs and into the kitchen where you find Chan steeping some deliciously smelling tea.
"There she is, did you find your stuff? Are the pants okay?", he asks as soon as you step into his arms once again, the hugging machine within him just acting out of instinct: "yeah, yeah everything's fine. Thank you, and I apologise again, I hope the couch isn't stained forever", you reply meekly, looking down at your feet, "the stain came right out with a single swipe, and even if it didn't I'd be more worried over you not feeling this awful over something you cannot even control".
Butterflies. In your belly and in your heart. Yeah they're never ever leaving.
You look up into the kindest gaze and smile, bewildered at your immense luck in having Chan as your partner, "how are you so perfect Chris? Like seriously, you're the perfect mix of loving and kind and funny as hell and empathetic and hot and smart and mature and absolute fucking perfection how do you even exist?", you exclaim dramatically, eyes wide and heart shaped over this very man holding you into his arms, who now giggles loudly and leans in to peck your lips," I don't think I'm the perfect boyfriend yet, but I'm working on it. You make it really easy though, you make it a happy process too", he gushes, kissing your lips first and then the tip of your nose.
"Shall we go back to Kiki and her deliveries now? I made us some tea so it'll keep the cramps at bay if they're still bothering you", he suggests then, lacing his arm around your waist so he can lead you into the living room.
You both settle in your former seat arrangement and you smirk to yourself despise the flush creeping up your cheeks just thinking about what happened there not half an hour ago, "oh those?", you reprise the argument about your cramps, "vanished. Disappeared. Non existent. Your little trick earlier... I think you worked some kind of magic on me I don't know", you declare, and Chan bursts into laughs, the tips of his ears going bright red, pride and flustered giddiness both coexisting in him at the moment, the epitome of a perfectly complex man.
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astrophileous · 1 year ago
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ZAHRA I DEMAND (request) A PART TWO OF JEALOUS REID I AM BEGGINGGGGG 🧎‍♀️😩🙏 I am actually in love with the way you write spencer like MY GAWD. MY GAWD.
your request (demand) shall be my command, your majesty 🙏
Warning(s): gn!reader, more jealous spencer bcs apparently it wasn't enough in the first one, a cheesy narration abt "change" 🤢🤢🤢 bcs why not.
This is part two for this blurb.
This blurb was written as a part of the "Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K" celebration.
Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist
If there was one thing Spencer Reid always found peculiar about mankind, it would be the general lack of acceptance when it came to change.
Before today, Spencer never understood the science behind metathesiophobia: the fear of change. Unpredicted and terrifying as it was, change was necessary to keep the ubiquitous balance of the universe. Change existed in the smallest and biggest capacity of the world, and Spencer, for the life of him, had never been able to berate change for doing exactly what it was intended to do.
Until now.
As Spencer stood next to the copy machine just a few feet away from the kitchenette, eavesdropping a discussion he had no business injecting himself into, Spencer finally understood why many people in the world feared change. The noises coming from the machine in front of him were tumultuous, but Spencer craned his neck and ears to the best of his capabilities just so he could listen in better to the conversation.
"JJ," Spencer heard you say, "I'm telling you, I'm not interested."
"I haven't even told you anything about him yet!"
"Jennifer, it's not about the guy. I'm sure your friend is lovely, but I'm just... not looking for anything like that right now."
"C'mon, (Y/N)," JJ nearly whined. "Please, please, please, just think about this? How long has it been since you broke up with that Bran guy, anyway? You've been single for a while now, don't you think it's finally time for a change?"
Change.
The word tasted bitter as Spencer felt it burn all the way down his throat.
There was a beat of pause where Spencer's heart thundered inside its crate; reeling in suspense over what your answer was going to be. He heard your sigh before your voice arose once more, "Fine. Just text me his number and I'll handle the rest myself, okay?"
Spencer tuned everything out after that, safe for JJ's elated squeal that echoed nearly halfway through the bullpen.
The rest of the day unraveled like a tedious nightmare. After collecting his belongings, Spencer headed out of the bullpen with his car keys in hand. He was waiting for the elevator to arrive, internally cursing his decision for having driven to work that morning, when an unfamiliar voice suddenly appeared behind him.
"You're still here, Doctor?"
Spencer turned around to see you approaching from the direction of Penelope's office. The smile on your face reminded him of cotton candy: soft and sweet; just like the scent of your perfume as it engulfed Spencer's whole being.
"I thought you already left," Spencer muttered.
"No, I had things to take care of. How about you?"
"Yeah. Same."
The elevator arrived with a ding. You walked in after him and pressed the button for the lobby, your scent attacking Spencer's senses even more ruthlessly within the tiny metal box.
"You have any plans for the weekend, Doc?" you asked once the elevator started going down. "A hot date, perhaps?"
Spencer loathed the view of your cheeky smile, along with the teasing gesture of your eyebrows at the suggestion of him going on a date with another person. Here he was, propelling himself to the brink of insanity over the idea of you being on a date with anyone else but him, and you didn't even bat an eye at the prospect of Spencer being with someone else.
"No hot dates for me," he responded. The elevator opened with another ding. "Can't say the same about you, though, can I?"
Your inquisitive gaze slid his way.
"I heard you and JJ in the pantry." Spencer opened the lobby doors, allowing you to walk through before falling into step beside you again. "So, are you going?"
"On the date? I honestly don't know." The night breeze blew against your face. Spencer shuffled closer when he noticed your subtle shiver. "I haven't even texted him yet. I don't feel like it, to be honest. But JJ just seemed so excited about it, so the least I could do is try talking to him first, right?"
An interim silence settled between the two of you. Before long, Spencer spotted his Volvo being parked a few paces ahead. "This is me." Spencer gestured to the car.
"Nice ride." You smiled, humming appreciatively at the vehicle. "Well, I'll get going, then. See you Monday, Doc. Drive safe."
Spencer watched as you started to saunter away. A familiar flame had begun raging and licking up his spine since the moment you mentioned the phrase a hot date in Spencer's face, and now, he could feel that same flame taking a hold of the beating organ inside his chest.
"Don't do it."
You stopped in your tracks.
It took Spencer a few seconds to realize that the interruption had come from him.
"Don't text that guy."
You spun around fully to face him. "Why not?"
"Because I don't think you should go out with him."
You looked at Spencer strangely. "You don't even know the guy."
"I don't need to. I just—" Spencer's jaw hardened, "—I need you to swear to me. Please. Swear you won't go on the date."
Your forehead creased in confusion.
You knew what Spencer was saying didn't make sense, but what perplexed you even more were the words that came out of your mouth next, "Okay. I won't go on the date."
Spencer breathed out his relief as if you just granted him fresh air after years of being buried underground. He gripped his satchel tighter and fiddled with the strap, giving you a curt nod before he slipped inside the driver's seat of his car.
Spencer drove away after that, leaving you standing alone in the middle of Quantico's deserted parking lot as you stared feebly at the tire marks on the ground. A foreign fire had suddenly flickered inside your chest, and even if you didn't understand the significance of it yet, you knew that it must've had something to do with a specific genius profiler who just demanded you to back out of a date that hadn't even been planned yet.
After casting one last look towards his speeding Volvo in the distance, you turned around and headed for your own car, feeling the fire in your ribcage burn brighter with every single one of your steps.
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hyperactively-me · 2 years ago
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Princess!reader finally slipping up and insulting King Ghost by calling him a murderer, or saying that she hates him for that reason. King Ghost finally understanding why she doesn't like him. I need the angst and drama aaaA.
In the dimly lit chambers of the royal quarters, a heavy silence settled. King Ghost sat at his desk, surrounded by the flickering light of candles, lost in the weight of his responsibilities. He had always carried the weight of the crown with solemn grace, ruling his kingdom with a firm hand and an unwavering dedication. Ruling with a strong hand was necessary for Kastron to survive, earning the respect of his subjects and the loyalty of his council. Yet, despite his outward strength, there was a void within him that he couldn't quite fill – the strained relationship with his own wife. 
You kept him at a cold distance that seemed impassable. He could feel your eyes on him, could sense the tension in the air whenever you were in the same room. He yearned to bridge the gap between you, to understand the source of your resentment, but it remained unspoken. He knew that you resented him for taking you away from your home, for throwing you into this role that you never asked for. 
That evening, during dinner, you were absentmindedly pushing around your food with your fork. Your posture was tense, your face scrunched up, lost in thought. 
Ghost clears his throat, the sound echoing in the quiet room.
“What are you thinkin’ about?”
“Oh, this question again,” you snap. 
Being immediately met with your hostility, he prepares for a blowout argument to occur. 
“Can I not ask how my wife is doing?”
Your gaze hardened, your fingers curling into fists. You slam your fork down, springing up from your chair.
“Your wife,” you scoff. 
“It’s what you are, are you not?” 
You don’t say anything. 
“Do you want to tell me what you’re thinking about? We’ve been playing this game of back and forth and I’m growing tired of it.” 
“You want to know? You really are asking me this? Fine, I'll tell you.” Your voice trembled with suppressed emotion, a volcano on the brink of eruption. “I hate you for what you do.”
If he wasn’t paying attention before, he definitely is now. He sets down his fork softly. 
“Tell me what I do.” 
His simple response, his nonchalance, his ignorance of the whole situation, of your feelings, enrages you. The anger that had been simmering within you finally bubbled over, and you couldn't hold back the torrent of emotions any longer. Your voice cracked as you unleashed the storm that had been building up for far too long.
“You’re a murder, a killer. You’re a murderer and I can’t stand the thought of being married to someone who has so much blood on their hands.”
Ghost's posture stiffened, his own anger simmering beneath his usually controlled demeanor. “You speak as though I enjoy it. As though I revel in the violence.”
A bitter laugh escaped your lips, devoid of any humor. “Maybe you don't revel in it, but you certainly tolerate it, don't you? You justify it as the cost of maintaining your power. Well, I can't stand it. I can't stand the sight of you, knowing what you've done.”
His gaze bore into yours, the tension between you like a physical weight in the room. He opened his mouth, searching for words to counter your accusations, but you interrupted him. 
“And not to mention, I’m here now. Yeah, I’m all of a sudden the queen of your kingdom, and everyone expects me to tolerate it and to know what I’m doing. I have no fucking idea what I’m supposed to be doing here.”
Ghost's eyes flashed with frustration. “You think I don't carry the weight of every decision I make? You think I don't question myself, every night, about the lives lost under my command?”
Your laughter was harsh, cutting through the air like a blade. "Your remorse doesn't wash the blood on your hands. And it certainly doesn't—”
“You don’t even know what you’re talking about, do you?” he cuts you off, the interruption slicing through the air. 
His voice is low and strained.
“You don't know the weight of these decisions this kingdom has had to face. You don't know the sacrifices I've had to make to protect this kingdom, to ensure its survival. Every choice I make, every life lost, it's a burden I carry with me every day.”
Your breath caught in your throat, his words penetrating the walls of anger you had built up. You looked into his eyes, seeing something raw beneath his exterior. For the first time in a long while, you saw Ghost not as a cold king, but as a man – a man burdened by the choices he had made.
“I never wanted you to see me like this. I never wanted you to be exposed to the violence associated with me, and I sure as hell never wanted you to despise me.”
“You’re too good for me, you don’t deserve to be in this kingdom with me. So I tried my best to shield you from this side of me, from the violence associated with Kastron. I want to work toward a better future, not only for the kingdom, but for us.” 
You take in his words, understanding the weight of it. You’re going to be here for a lifetime. You’re not going anywhere. And who are you if you back down from a challenge? No, you’re a fighter, and you’ll go down fighting for what you think is right until the day you die. 
“I don’t know if I can just…forget everything,” you say slowly. “And I’m not expecting you to.”
“But, I can’t live the rest of my life here resenting you. It’s exhausting. I mean, fuck, I’m the queen of this kingdom,” you shake your head. 
A deep sigh escaped your lips, your shoulders sagging as the weight of your anger began to lift, replaced by a complex mixture of emotions.
"I don’t want to resent you," you admitted, your voice softer now. You twist the wedding ring on your finger. Ghost pretends not to notice.
“How can I close this distance between us?” Ghost pipes up with a calm tone. “How can I be better for you?”
“I… I don’t really know…” you say. “I just want to get to know who you really are. Who Simon is.”  
He’s quiet. 
“I could say the same for you, you know. I want to know who you are as well.” 
You nod slowly. “Okay…”
“After all, we do have a lifetime together,” he grunts. You pick your fork back up and take a bite of food. You think while you chew, taking in the last few moments. 
“I hope, with time, we can find a way to…overcome this. Together.” You nod your head solemnly.
Silence settled between you, a tense quiet that held the hope of change. The journey ahead was uncertain, a path fraught with challenges, but as you looked at him, you saw not just a king with blood on his hands, but a man willing to confront his past.
The anger that had ignited your words was still there, but it was tempered now by a glimmer of understanding, a sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, you could find a way to stand together against the darkness that haunted both of you.
- - - - -
(masterlist)
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faith2wood · 11 months ago
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hey! i just finished beholden. i wanted to ask what got you writing, what had you stop for a decade, and what got you back in?
Ahhhh! Asking me why I write? You wanted word vomit? You're getting word vomit.
(There's a little spoiler for Beholden under the cut.)
What got me writing?
RAGE. 
No, really.
I was a lurker/reader in the Buffy fandom at the time, and I'd only occasionally read HP fics — 95% gen!fic, 4% low rated canon romance, 1% Sirius/OC smut, because the rest of my faves were kids, and I wasn't interested in anything else. 
And then after DH, with Draco getting pushed to the brink of redemption, but not crossing the line, and with Harry's view of him changing — always so sorry, so sad for him, always noting how scared he seemed, even switching to calling him 'Draco' — I was left with such a need to read that pairing. I wanted Draco to cross that line, and I wanted that soft understanding Harry had found for him to get explored. 
So, I tried reading Harry/Draco fics. And OH MAN. 
I was no stranger to character-bashing and unusual interpretations of canon — Buffy fandom was pretty damn crazy — but I knew my way around that place. With Harry/Draco, I stepped into the WILD. Fic after fic, all I could find was everything I loved and everything Harry loved in canon torn apart to pieces. His friends, his girlfriend, his House, his beliefs, his humor, the things that he wanted, the things that he fought for, the things that he was willing to die for, his character growth in DH, the confident brave man he became after Dobby's death, all of it dismissed, usually in a handful of exposition paragraphs. Endless apologies for the pure-blood supremacists. Draco 'redeeming' himself by quoting lines written by his fans on discussion boards, and therefore showing me he's not regretful, just full of excuses. Or he's not even redeemed, just cool and rich and suave (lol) and so much wittier than that bumbling, irrationally angry Harry Potter that felt plucked straight from OotP with all his teen angst painfully exaggerated. And then in those fics Harry just goes with it because he thinks Draco is hot. 
I could go on. I won't. 
So, I had that petulant moment where I thought, "Fine. I'll do it myself. How hard can it be?" 
Well, pretty damn hard, apparently. It's hard to create convincing drama. It's hard to get the characters in the right frame of mind so your plot could work. It's very hard to write smart and witty characters. It's hard to convincingly redeem someone. It's hard to juggle a cast of side-characters. It's hard to spell the word nesscscseary. It's especially hard to take that perfect, plausible, well-thought out story in your head and write it down without losing at least half of what makes it good. It's also hard to find time to write and write well. And of course your personal opinions on canon and fanon can seep through no matter how hard you try not to preach, and it can totally ruin a story.
That realization tempered my rage. It didn't mean I was willing to read the things I don't like, of course; I always liberally use that back button. But I did eventually find fics that I love and reccers I can trust, and learned to forgive when authors cut some corners.
Oh, but the taste of POWER writing gave me. The fact that I can just write the things I want to read. Cater to my own preferences. Simply not include the things I don't like. I want it, it's there; I don't want it, it's not.
So that's why I started writing. So I could read exactly what I wanted to read. Stories perfectly tailored for me. Honestly, I'm my biggest fan. I'm my own writing bitch. It doesn't even matter if I fail to do a good job while writing down the little movie that played out in my head, because I know my own intentions. I thought it all through. What I've written might not make sense to a reader sometimes, but it always makes sense to me. And I can always forgive myself if I feel like I failed. I find it very, very easy to forgive myself. Others, not so much, especially if I start to suspect they don't love Harry enough.
What made me stop writing?
I didn't stop writing. I stopped posting. I stopped interacting with fandom. I felt like I had my fill. I'm happy to recycle plots and read and write similar things over and over again, because I want what I want, and I won't apologize for it, but apparently I've reached a limit after all and felt like I have nothing new to offer.
I kept writing stuff. Fanfic for other fandoms, original stuff, even HP fics. Most of it unfinished and unedited and unpresentable, but enough to satisfy my occasional cravings for specific things. Which, as I said, is the whole point of my writing.
So I'll rephrase your next question: What got me to finally finish a Harry/Draco fic and post it? 
THE CURSED CHILD. lol I haven't seen it. Or read it. I haven't even read the synopsis. Next gen, eh, I was never interested. But I caught some spoilers about it on tumblr and reddit — about Draco's wife being ill and dying. That's some incredible stuff. Draco being so loving and dedicated, standing up to his parents, so heartbroken when the person he loved died but still being a wonderful father to his son. It's like I discovered a whole new Draco to think about. It got me all inspired. It's everything I ever wanted for him, except of course his wife dying. So he got to save his seemingly terminally ill lover in Beholden, and got the chance to be a loving, tender husband I wouldn't dare to even imagine after finishing the books, as it would feel too OOC to soften him up to that degree.
It likely wasn't visible, but in my mind, Beholden is kind of a Cursed Child fix!it fic — for that tiny part of the story. I needed it so desperately, I actually finished and posted it.
I have a few more asks in my tumblr inbox, and I'll very happily answer them, but it might take some time.
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throughthebluesea · 3 months ago
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°°••….••°°..••°°°°••..°°••….••°°..••°°°°••..°°••….••°° pairing: bada lee x fem!reader genre: slight angst but with a happy ending maybe? word count: 1.59k warnings: cursing. not proofread. °°••….••°°..••°°°°••..°°••….••°°..••°°°°••..°°••….••°°
echoes of voices inside the enclosed space can be heard right before she had left the room, and as the door closed, bada sighed before making her way to the locker rooms. it was yet another day with her calendar is filled with classes that takes up most of her hours in a day. she was never workaholic to begin with but she felt the urge to push herself into the brink of exhaustions for various reasons. even her colleagues in the industry has been worried about her current state but what does bada reply everytime one raises their concern over her situation?
"i am okay."
"i'll be fine."
and she would just shrug it off.
the female takes a quick sip from her tumbler as she makes her way to her next class but the staff stopped her and told her that most of her classes after that postponed and requested to move the dates. confused, she asked why and how did she not know this. The staff shrugged and handed her the outline of the new schedules. she sighs, already knew whose idea it is.
a few minutes later, she is in front of howl's desk, who looks at her with an amused expression on his face.
"you need to take a breather." that's what the male had told her, and bada answered with an eyebrow raised. "just because we're good friends doesn't mean i allow you to reschedule all my hard-earned classes without my fucking consent."
the male just chuckled and propped his elbows atop his desk. "what more do you want to prove? you're the most sought-after choreographer in the region. you have proven your worth, now you need to rest before you get burnt out. everyone knows it, EVERYONE."
"what do you mean?"
"you know what i meant."
the oreo-haired girl knew what he meant but she chose to ignore it and just sighed, dismissing the idea. "it's not even about her. i am doing this for myself."
"is it really?"
-
it took a good thirty minutes of exchanging reasons, bickering and such until bada finally submits to the male. and there she was, walking by the sidewalk, on her way to her flat. beneath the overcast night of the city, dim neon lights buzzed softly, their glow almost reflected the snow-covered streets. the city was bustling as it normally did despite the recent snowfall
cars honking, laughter coming from the hidden paths, and the occasional sound of a street musician strumming mellow tunes. never thought that bada would miss the scent of the city as she was stuck inside the enclosed dance studios she comes in. but now, bada was among the commotion, walking in silence, her steps being steady while her heart is in turmoil. it never did until that discussion with howl.
since she was a little girl, bada had loved all aspects of the big city but her favorite spot was that cafe, which happened to be in between the bookshop and the antique shop. aside from the dance studio, the certain cafe mentioned is where she finds solace. she spent her first hard earned money for a slice of cheesecake there, and everytime something good happens to her, the cafe is her go-to spot.
it was the same cafe where she met you on a similar snowy night four years ago. you rushed inside to shelter from the heavy downpour, and it so happened that bada is there, slender fingers wrapped around a warm cup of coffee she is enjoying, looked up as you burst inside covered in snow, shivering and panting. there are no vacant seats inside the cafe except bada's table, to which you went and claimed immediately.
just as you finally settled in, breathing calmed down, you apologized that you sat down without her consent, bada shrugged it off and told you not to apologize given the situation you're in, but instead offered her warm cup of coffee. much to your embarrassment, you refused to get her cup but bada insisted. it was then their friendship bloomed. at a certain day or time, they coincidentally meet. gradually, the more they talked, laughed together, and the more they filled the silence with their presences, they had created memories in that one corner, so much so that their connection had deepened like layers of a well-produced song.
it's an understatement that as their connection deepens, feelings began to grow.
but as life often does, they went their separate ways. you were given the opportunity to explore more of your craft. bada knew that you wanted to be a musician, and she was fully supportive with it. bada was left behind, of course, but the two promised to keep in contact. for the first few months, she had become a distant observer to your journey. you two had had pledged to keep in touch, yet as time goes by, and the messages they sent to each other became fewer and far between.
replies became colder, as to which the two didn't know why. but they went on their own lives. you became a well-known singer-songwriter while bada became a sought-after dancer and choreographer. while on the said industry you two have the chance to meet or cross paths, but you did well in avoiding each other.
-
tonight, the café was conducting an open mic session, a thing bada had not attended since you left. Hher unplanned intention was to come—it was easier to cling to memories than to confront their absence—however, there was this unique feeling in the air tonight. nostalgia successfully lured her to come close, thus she found herself sitting at the familiar table, with the aroma of coffee making her mind rest somehow. the oreo haired girl's fingers idly played with the brim of her cup, the same fidgeting movement she used to do every time she waited for you to arrive. it's different this time, knowing the opposite seat will remain vacant.
the evening passed by in a stream of voices and tunes. some of the performers were in their natural and unprocessed state, and others sang with a self-assurance that uplifted the gymnastics space. bada clapped gently, yet she is feeling upset inside. staying inside only worsened the bubbling thoughts inside her head, so she briefly stands up and was ready to leave. it was then the host appeared behind the backstage, approaching the microphone with a deep smile.
"ladies and gentlemen, we are pleased to announced that our special guest is here. please welcome, our very own… y/n jang!"
The place erupted with cheers, bada stopped from where she stood. her breath hitched and unconsciously clutched on her chest. before she can process everything, you entered the mini stage, waving at the cafe goers with the familiar sincere smile. you seemed more or less the same, but at the same time, different.
grown up, but still possesses that fire bada had recognized.
as you looked around, greeting the people who have come to see her, your eyes found bada's and your smile waned briefly. you cleared your throat and tightened the grip around the microphone. you moved it after, while you try to keep your cool, you leaned forward and spoke, voice calm and soft.
"i wrote this song with this someone in mind, this someone who had reminded me that even when days had gone by, some things stay with you.
the backtrack played, bada felt the first notes of the song which sent a shiver running down her spine. almost, as if by coincidence, the song felt like a memory. the lyrics uttered out from your lips felt like a reflection of love that refused to die, of tears and joy, and a love that continued to live throughout the seasons.
she noticed your vulnerability through your voice, every word uttered is accompanied by some sort of intense and unshown sentiment.
it felt like it was a song dedicated for her. bada didn't want to assume, but it felt like it.
the song kept going until her time on the stage ends and she received applause, commending her heartfelt performance.
the crowd slowly scattered away, leaving them standing face-to-face. for a moment, neither of them spoke, the weight of years and unsaid words hangs in between them.
“Hi”, bada said, finally shattering the comfortable silence between them. your lips began to tremble, the emotions swelled inside you and before you can even reply, tears began to flow down your cheeks.
"the famous y/n jang is still a crybaby?"
she joked, which got out a chuckle from you.
-
the two settled on their familiar table, enjoying a cup of coffee. as they filled up with what they had missed on their lives. the hardships, the successes. it suddenly felt like it returned to their blissful days that had passed. there was silence still, but they tried patching it up slowly.
"i'm sorry, bada."
"for what?"
"for ending things like that. i should've done something to keep ourselves connected."
bada lowered her head. "it's okay, really. we have focused on our dreams and goals. don't blame yourself. i am at fault, too, you know.."
“I… missed this,” you said in a soft manner. "i miss you, bada."
and she missed you too, bada missed you too. she felt hope, suddenly believed that both can still retrieved what was lost between, and whatever they paused can be continued. along with the cup of coffee that thawed the cold lining between them.
maybe this time, things will work out?
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promptcontainmentzone · 1 year ago
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FALLOUT: NEW VEGAS SENTENCE STARTERS. warnings for: guns, violence, death, murder.
What in the goddamn…?
Let's keep this in the groove, hey? Smooth moves, like smooth little babies...
Baby, the odds may look long, but that's just because we ain't done rigging them. I won't toss the dice until we are.
Look, I ain't a harbor for illusions. I ain't expecting to get out of this shin-dig alive.
Can you spell detention? I'll tell you how I spell it: DEATHtention.
You are in the LIBRARY. Be quiet here and filled with SHHHHH.
I am lord of this institution. Where once, long ago, I was a student here. Now, I am its OMNIPOTENT GOD-PRINCIPAL.
______, you're about to have your FAVORITE treat - a VISITOR. Won't that be nice? DON'T eat the visitor, boy. Don't. Please.
What YOU ask is of NULL importance! _____ besieges us, there are more important things to worry about than DATA and FACTS!
ENOUGH! Stop filling my precious brain cell units with irrelevant data!
And… I wonder why it didn't hit me before, until I saw that memory in your hands.
How gracious of you. A mannerly killing.
Can't have brains moving around of their own volition.
In short: Brains, a heart, and courage... spine. I think there was a story once where a band of murderous thugs sought these things.
The ghosts aren't real? That changes everything.
Baby, this little reunion of ours? Chalk me up as a no-show.
I'm familiar with the care and handling of explosives.
How hard can it be? Just light them and throw.
I'd love to debate you on this, but there's no time.
No way. I'm not going to torch myself for your amusement.
It would be pretty funny, wouldn't it? Oh, don't look at me that way. I'm sure you'll be fine.
_____ is dead - what a mess you've made!
There will be no repeat of the trouble we had last time, I trust?
Even now? On the brink of battle?
You'll need a disguise, then. Or overwhelming firepower. Whatever works.
You must be, like… a brain in a jar!
Frontal assaults on casinos? Not good for business.
You have an interest in this even if you're too stupid to know it. If you have an interest in breathing, you have an interest in this.
They have no idea what other cards I'm holding. It's a strong hand, believe me - I dealt it to myself.
I guess I shouldn't be surprised. It'd be like them to keep paperwork.
I don't have friends here.
We'll kill more with two of us.
You only trust strangers?
Besides. I was on break when it happened.
I want you to find something out for me. I don't know if there's anything to find, but I need someone to try.
Gonna be hard covering you when I can't move my legs.
Goddamn it! Don't sneak up on me like that. What do you want?
Let me aim that for you next time.
You're hiding something. Spit it out. You owe me.
You got no right asking me that. Drop it.
It's just something I'm not ready to discuss. With you or anybody.
That part of my life is over now. So is this discussion.
Must've been one hell of a miscommunication.
Yeah, well. That's how they wrote it up in the report.
Life has a way of punishing you for the mistakes you make. Big enough mistake, punishment can take a while.
You're like a switchblade stuck on flick.
Shhhh… we're hunting shitheads.
All this planning won't matter much when the bullets fly, anyway.
No sense trying to hold the past between your fingers when it's nothing but dirt.
That fucking monument outside?
Started? Took to it like a fish to water... well, if you know what a fish is.
What the hell is a fish?
They're like birds, except they stay underwater.
Anyway, I've seen pictures. One guy even had one above his bar in Redding, except it was made of Pre-War plastic.
Greetings, _____. The disappointment you are about to experience delights me.
Can I order room service?
Am I punching too much? I get carried away.
You mean like this melee weapon right here in my hand at this very second?
Are you talking to me, or a future _____ who is not already doing that?
He always does what he feels is right. Usually that's a great quality.
Sure, I left them. But that didn't mean I'd ever be free of them.
We always make enemies, never allies.
Hold on. I see something I want to punch.
But at least I got the chance to try. At least I know for sure that there was nothing I could do.
Wow, _____ is looking for you, huh? What do you think he wants? Bowling partner?
But… you don't have a "this is good news" expression on your face.
Well, welcome, then. I'm _____. I live in a hole in the ground.
Well that shouldn't be a problem for me. I can't afford anything like that.
I've heard they shoot lasers from their eyes.
I just kind of drift from place to place.
I'll be honest. You're the first person I've run across out here that looks like she can really handle herself.
Aw, you really know how to make a girl feel like a stray cat.
He was dead when I got there.
This better not be about the meaning of life.
Damn, son, you look like ten miles of bad road.
Are you following me?
I saved your life so I kinda feel responsible for you is all.
I'll let that slide seeing how you gotta mind full of vengeance for that no-good polecat and all.
Yup, but this is getting a might embarrassing - people are going to start to talk.
That's a puzzle, all right. I'm sure it's nothing.
What in tarnation was you thinkin'?
I'll thank you not to touch my plunder.
Meaner than a rattlesnake, ain't ya?
To the Bone Orchard you go!
Seems they made like a ghost.
Won't help you none to lay low.
The Boss is pretty clear on this. I can't let you in unless you're by your lonesome.
You did a super job wrapping things up! And I'm not just saying that because I have to!
Here's a print-out with some additional information!
What? Did you expect me to applaud your efforts to support a deranged warlord?
That wig is going to haunt my nightmares. Seriously.
That one… had a little kick to it. The poisonous kind of kick.
Ahh, that feels better. I might not die for a while yet.
Am I dead? Is this Heaven? Oh. Hi _____. Guess not.
Will the medical wonders of the post-apocalyptic world never cease?
Back to the tomb, I suppose. If you need me, et cetera.
Strange how dead bodies appear wherever you go.
As the old saying goes, two's company, but three's a small army. Okay, I'm paraphrasing a bit, but you get the idea.
Wait, wait, wait a second. What's going on? Am I playing Vergil to your Dante?
I've woken up worse places. Not many, though.
That's sounding dangerously close to a plan, _____.
Alrighty then, I'll just head out. Alone. By myself. Into the dangerous wastes.
If I buy it out there, I want twelve mariachi bands playing at my funeral. A medal might be nice, too.
I'm not exactly a mercenary, but taking out scumbags of this magnitude wouldn't cause me to lose any sleep.
Why don't you make like Odysseus and get lost?
For as lack of adornment is said to become some women, so will this place, without your presence, bring delight.
I've run out of witty ways to tell you to leave, so why don't you just go?
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thisonesatellite · 1 day ago
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Hello loveliest Sat, as usual, I'm late, but in my defense, I just spent most of Easter in the hospital (it's fine, I'm fine), so...¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Anyway, I would be delighted to read your answers to 23, 28, and/or 5 (<- especially something you did not end up using in the finished fic). 😘
ARE YOU OK? SRSLY? OK, i will answer but you BETTER BE FINE.
AHEM. 💕💕💕💕
#23 -- What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet?
That crazy take on the soulmate trope you and i have been kicking around for your MTH fic. i'm not especially crazy about the soulmate trope itself, and never thought i'd ever be tempted to write it, so of course that would be the plot bunny that gets me in the end. The irony is KILLING ME. 😂
#28 -- What's the angstiest idea you've ever come up with?
Ohhhhh. First of all let me say that i do not consider myself an angsty writer per se. Darkness, action, drama, fear, pining - yes, please, i'll write all of those. But i find that i only write angst when it is firmly rooted in a character motivation, and not for its own sake, like to be a plot point, or to put people through the wringer. (i am NOT saying angst for angst's sake isn't valid, it's just not my bag.) My angstiest idea was for a whole different fandom. i was going to have one character get kidnapped halfway through the story and the other character (who is already -- canonically -- skirting a problem with alcohol abuse) going off the deep end and spiraling super hard into an abyss of self-recrimination leading to self-medication and possibly a complete breakdown. It would have been an entirely conceivable and plausible journey for that character to take, but in the end i decided i didn't want to write it. i did write the kidnapping, and there's one bout of desperate drinking (and a nice hangover afterwards), but then there's rallying and action and ass kicking instead. 😂
#5 -- What’s something you learned while researching a fic?
OMG - so many things. What gladiators snacked on in between arena bouts, how cowboys made coffee, the components of Soviet Union concrete, and several hundred other facts i can now bore people with at parties. But the best thing i found and never used is the fact that the UK and the US once got to the brink of war over the shooting of a pig in the San Juan islands.
This was so much fun - THANK YOU FOR THE ASK!
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softantlers · 22 days ago
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heey, how are you? (again hehe) so i was thinking abt this for some time: when people are in need to be in an enclosed space to preserve heat, and necessities such as medicine, food, water, and overall be together for an extended period of time - the lines between 'platonic' and 'romantic' tend to blur into one indefinite cycle of self-questioning, or just acceptance of their situation. so, gathering from this, i was like: "we, as people, for as long as we live in one commune, or live in a situation with a lower level of living (like surviving), we tend to accept the consequences and the sacrifices made to be where we are. you don't know what you have till you lose it". and like lightning, it struck me to my core: half of these 'ship wars' could be avoided if we just thought realistically: they all saw each other bare (in more ways than one), they all needed to clean each other, see each other's wounds and private parts, they all heard more noises of pleasure than laughter in there, because REALISTICALLY when you're stressed out of your mind, and don't have much to do but to not think abt food, you tend to be guided by inertia, which is human need for closeness and pleasure. soo, idk; they all were pent-up and lonely, but more so sought understanding and connection from people who understood them the most. eg.: lottie and natalie are like two sides of the same coin, which is a blessing and a curse, bc they both understand each other on some level, but are two mm stubborn and different to see it. yet.
thoughts, thoughts, thoughts...
what the fuck you just come into my house and start spitting poetry like that 😭😭😭 you just end my life like that 😭😭😭 beautifully written
i think i've seen a post that kinda says something similar to what you've described: that there's an inherent romance between the girls, all of them, because of what they had to do to survive together. like i think what strikes me so much about their relationships is that, yes, they may have known each other on a surface-level as a soccer team before the crash. like i knew the fundamental shape of my teammates' lives & their interests when i played soccer. but having gone through this ungodly traumatic situation & pushed to the brink of human suffering? there's an incredible intimacy that's been developed from sharing that experience together.
it will remain true for the rest of their lives: no one else could possibly understand. it's only them. all they will ever have in that regard is each other.
i think that's why it's actually very easy to multiship in this fandom. like, you can draw out connection points between each of the characters, as well as opportunities for them to grow closer. it's not hard to see the potential because their situation already establishes that they will always have profound relationships with each other for the rest of their lives. there's no moving past what they survived together--they're all bonded.
like i'm totally fine with people not being into certain ships because they prefer certain dynamics over others (i have my preferences too). but genuinely, when people say they don't see any potentials for romance between any particular ship, i'm like ??? is it not enough for you that all of them canonically have an unshakeable bond? like they've been burned into each other's skin. people ship shit on a lot less!
i may not always vibe with a certain ship romantically for myself, but i'll never dispute that pretty much any pairing could be explored romantically: it just makes sense given what they've lived through.
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spades4cards · 6 months ago
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𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
The fact that I was evicted finally sank in after staring at the notice for ten minutes straight in shock. I slammed my door open and shut before angrily yanking my laptop and searching for apartments. Fucking Sky Suites, I was going to sue them and kill whoever the fuck evicted me- okay, maybe not either of those but I was going to commit one small felony. Maybe I'll poison my boss' plants. Actually, scratch that too; I'll figure out what felony I'll commit after searching for a flat.
After hours of scavaging and filling out tenant forms, I signed into my bank account. A harsh gulp ran through me and frayed my nerves. The clicks drove faster to the transfer button, the sound of the mouse heightening my anxiety until it turned into a high and torturous mountain I had to climb to reach my goal. Eventually, I clicked the transfer button, and the mountain I climbed, I also fell off of. My stomach dropped at the thought of me having to check the price of every small thing at the grocery store, and if things really go to shit, being evicted from my new apartment. Speaking of which, how was I supposed to afford my new apartment with my money on the brink? What if I had to stay at a friend's? What if-
As soon as my breaths became shallow, I stopped my thoughts. I wasn't going to have a panic attack. Not now, not like this. If I was going to get through this, I was going to do it in a calm, cool, and collected manner.
Gather yourself, y/n. You got this.
I took some deep breaths, letting them sink in and engulf me in a blanket of reassurance before carrying on. The day was shitty, considering I had to take breathers every five minutes to stop myself from crying, but I didn't shed a tear, so I counted today as a win. After getting done with the grueling task of laundry, I checked the time.
8:00p.m
Shit, shit, shit. Fuck me. I had to go grocery shopping. I thought I would have some time, but the universe really wanted to shit on me today. I grabbed my keys and jacket before leaving the house, tuning out all of my thoughts so I could focus on getting to the local Safeway on time. Even the one telling me I was forgetting something.
Did my paranoia make me check the price of every small thing? Yes. Did the food stamps in my bag make me look cheap? Yes. But when the cashier on the speaker warned that the store was closing in fifteen minutes, I couldn't find the means to care. When I was a cashier, I hated customers who would come too late even after the store closed, and I would hate to be that person, even if I wasn't in their spot anymore. I frantically grabbed the last of my items and sped-walk to the checkout.
"Just this?" The cashier with purple hair said as I placed a small number of items on the conveyor belt; it's better to be safe than sorry just in case I didn't have the money after the wire transfer.
I read the name tag: Isabella. What a pretty name.
"Yes, that's all," I responded, a little out of breath from running around the store.
"Cash or card?"
"Cash please," I said as my hands scavaged my jacket pockets for my wallet.
Fuck. No wonder I had a nagging feeling I was forgetting something. I left my wallet at home during my time crunch. The cashier gave me a curious look as I gave up looking in my pockets.
"I'm sorry, I forgot my wallet at ho-"
"I'll pay," a dark, masculine, and distinguishable voice rumbled behind me.
I turned around before I could process who the voice belonged to. There he was; sharp, chiseled jawline that could cut paper, taut muscles that flexed under his white button-down shirt instead of his usual sharp suit, tanned, olive skin, and honey pool, whiskey eyes that pierced through you. Christian.
"Oh, no. It's fine," I responded, hot embarrassment creeping up my neck.
Even if I needed the money more than anything, I wouldn't let my boss be the first to help me during my financial crisis. No matter how tempting it was.
"I insist," the veins of his forearm bulged as he gave the cashier his black Amex, which had no right to be as hot as it was.
I could've stopped him, but the idea of blocking his path sent goosebumps rippling through me as if warning me not to.
"Thank you," I said sheepishly.
Who would've thought my bitch boss would pay for my groceries? I was one of those girls who took first impressions very seriously, and his bitchy first impression did not mix with him paying for my groceries. I was astonished and stared at him, but I quickly caught myself as another warning that the store was closing blasted through the speakers. Blood rose to my cheeks, and I quickly grabbed my bags before rushing off. God, I really need to work on my staring problem before it gets me in trouble.
The fortnight unceremoniously came, and all the apartments I had searched for turned me down. This has to be some karma from my past life, or the universe just has a shittier sense of humor than me. Fuck, what was I supposed to do now? I had looked for every apartment in the area except... The Mirage. Realization curled within me, suffocating my resolve until it exploded into a million pieces. The Mirage was Christian's building, but it can't be that bad, right? I mean, he did buy me groceries, and I wouldn't have to drive since I would be living in the same establishment I worked at...
Fuck it. I applied for a flat at The Mirage. If I get turned down or regret it, so be it. A girl's gotta do what she's gotta do. I closed my laptop and flopped into bed, internally praying they would accept me before I had to live at a friend's.
𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧
The incident at the supermarket replayed in my mind nonstop. Y/n wasn't the type to go grocery shopping and only buy around five items. It would barely last her a week. Was she getting groceries for someone else? Was it a guy she was getting groceries for? Is the guy her boyfriend? She was buying the groceries as if she was scarce on money? Was she scarce on money? Did she need financial support?
A ding from my phone dragged me out of my thoughts. I picked it up and read it, pleased to see y/n had applied to The Mirage. I had a personal notification when she would, and I spent half of the week wondering just when she would apply for a spot at The Mirage. How hesitant she was on living in the same building as me, it would be cute if I wasn't getting constant images of how much she hates me for The Mirage to be her last option. I made a call to my assistant to request her to see the apartment tomorrow, and checked my schedule to make sure I was there 'by coincidence.'
I slouched on my desk and glanced at my computer which showed me Victor Black's sexual assault charges and indecent photos of him getting uploaded and then reported by anonymous users, as if reflecting my cruelty. It was a small reminder from something out there that I was too corrupted for y/n, but if whatever force has an issue with me being with her, they can try to stop me. Nothing was taking me away from her.
𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
My morning was turned five times better when I got an email requesting me to come to The Mirage. Was the email suspiciously early? Yes. But so was my hiring at The Mirage. In fact, everything that was controlled by Christian welcomed me as if I was some saint, but it was probably just their large staff that could take care of things faster. Nothing else. I got ready and put on a blouse and some mom jeans; basic was the safest, after all, before leaving my apartment with the weight of not having an apartment ready absent on my shoulders. I practically skipped in joy on the way there and most likely got weird stares, but today was not the day to care. However, my happiness pathetically dissipated as I entered the building, the modern ambiance and furniture speaking a million words on how expensive it was. How was I supposed to afford it?
"Y/n?" A lady in a pearl white silk blouse and grey, ironed pants called, snapping me out of my stressful mind-fog and letting the real world sink back in.
"Yes, that's me," I confirmed, giving a warm smile.
"Right, this way, please," she said as she guided me to the apartment.
The wooden door of the apartment had an impeccable finish with the gold number '111' on it. Huh, my favorite angel number. What a coincidence. The kitchen had a polished, marble island with wooden drawers that blended in with the counters. The room had a sleek, grey dresser with matching silk curtains and a soft, queen-sized bed. The bathroom had a personal bath and shower with a wide counter that left room for the spacious sink and the mirror was a cabinet. I doubted I had somehow been transported into heaven, but when I saw the walk-in closet with glass doors, I was sure I had. But my trip to heaven was cut short as the lady told me the price.
"two thousand five hundred dollars..." I murmured as if I had never heard such a price before.
"Yes," the woman replied in a clipped tone.
I read her name tag. Karen. Yeah, Karen's were always uptight. Just as I was going to say I couldn't afford it and thank her for her time, familiar footsteps echoed down the hall.
𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧
I walked up to y/n and Karen, taking note of y/n's flustered expression and flushed skin and engraving it in my mind so I could keep her embarrassed face in my memory forever.
"Ah, y/n, what are you doing here with Karen? It's the weekend."
Looking for an apartment I answered internally to my own question. Before y/n could respond, Karen spoke. I was going to have a talk with her about that, but that was for later.
"Y/n was just looking at flat number 111," Karen replied for y/n.
"I asked y/n, not you," I said, letting her see through my warning until her cheeks turned pink.
Y/n must have felt bad, because she quickly confirmed Karen's words, "Yes, I was, but..." she paused, trying to figure out what to say, "the rent was, um, abundant in price."
I would think of her embarrassed speech and overly-sophisticated vocabulary amusing if she didn't confirm my suspicions that she was in a money crunch.
I turned to Karen before speaking, "How much is the rent?"
"Two thousand five hundred," Karen curtly answered.
"And what is your budget, y/n?"
Her face turned even redder, if possible, "Somewhere between one thousand and one thousand five hundred."
I don't know where she could find such a cheap place in D.C, except here, only because it was y/n and no one else.
"Alright, one thousand two hundred fifty. Sold," I said, drawing surprised glances from both of the women.
It was a shitty business deal and an irrational decision, but there were only two things that my rationality didn't apply to: Magda and y/n.
"I- uh, yes. Of course," her voice was practically a yell of joy.
Good. She deserved all the joy in the world.
"Alright, apartment 111 sold. Karen, please retrieve the necessary documents," a beat passed before I spoke again, "So, apartment 111, an angel number, right?" Her favorite one.
"Yeah, it's actually my favorite angel number," she replied with a small smile that seemed to light up the surroundings as if the Earth would be gloomy without her happiness.
Of course, I knew that, so I evicted the previous tenant so you could have it. Tension underpinned the air until it grew so palpable that it infiltrated my body, and I suffocated with unspoken words that formed a dangerous cyclone whirling inside me. But before I did anything stupid, the sound of Karen's heels clacking in the hall drew me out of my haze and back into real life.
"Here is the lease, Ms. y/n," Karen said before handing y/n the documents, which she read over as if expecting some brazen condition to be listed somewhere.
I would (definitely) do that with someone else, not y/n. Eventually, after confirming for the hundredth time there was nothing suspicious about the lease, y/n signed, and gave the papers to Karen who responded with a handshake and a "Thank you for signing with The Mirage," before turning to me.
"I really do appreciate you lowering the price," y/n said as she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear.
God, I wanted to be her fingers, tucking her hair and grazing the soft skin of her cheeks. I wanted to be her plushie she snuggled with at night, to be the moonlight that danced across her face when she worked late nights. I wanted to drown in her if it meant that my death would be her.
"No problem," I breezily replied as if wasn't fucking up my thoughts so thoroughly you could've mistaken them for an orgy.
She opened her mouth as if she was going to say something, like her words danced on the tip of her tongue the way mine did before closing it and then speaking, "See you on Monday."
"See you on Monday."
𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
The next week I moved into my apartment that looked like it came out of a page from Architectural Digest. I was still processing how Christian lowered the price by fifty percent. First, he paid for my groceries, and now he let me have a beautiful apartment for half the price; he was turning his satan-like image in my mind to Jesus. After I was done unpacking with the help of my friends Bridget, Jules, and Ava, we all had a drink to celebrate.
"To your nice ass apartment that I'm so not jealous about!" Jules cheered as we all brought our cups to tap hers.
"Woohoo!" Ava yelled as she downed the drink.
"Ugh, your apartment is too nice," Bridget whined as if she wasn't a princess.
Yep, an honest-to-god princess, but she was so down to Earth you couldn't tell. Sometimes I had to double-check if she was real to make sure I wasn't hallucinating me being friends with the fucking princess of Eldorra, but I'm glad I wasn't 'cause she's the best.
"I'm sorry, aren't you a princess?" I asked as I cocked an eyebrow.
"Royalty can still appreciate architecture even if it's not palace standards," she snapped back.
Fair point, but I wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of admitting that out loud.
"Ahem, besides that, can we talk about how Christian lowered the price to one thousand two hundred fifty dollars? He definitely wants to fuck you," Jules said, drawing a small blush to heat my ears.
"He's my boss," I reminded her, pretending to be repulsed at the idea.
In truth, I wasn't repulsed. I mean, the guy's body looked like it was sculpted by God himself, and his lips looked like they would have an intoxicating mix of spice as their taste. I bet his di-
Oh, my god. No way I was thinking of Christian in that sense. Jules's comment really threw me off, and why was it so hot in here? The heater must be on or maybe it was just my thick hoodie.
"Which makes it even hotter. You know, like an office romance. You could give him an under-desk blowjob during his meeting," Jules responded, turning my whole face red until I resembled a ripe tomato.
I didn't have a witty comment that I could respond with, so I just chugged the rest of my drink. Eventually, the group had to go home as Ava had a date with Alex, her husband, and a very drunk Jules started talking to the furniture and was escorted home by Bridget back to her house. The silence was deafening as I cleaned up after our mess, and I couldn't help but ponder on what Jules said.
"Ahem, besides that, can we talk about how Christian lowered the price to one thousand two hundred fifty dollars? He definitely wants to fuck you,"
Whatever, I was just looking too far into it. But as I got in my bed, one question lingered in my mind before my eyes closed and my breaths steadied: did my boss want to fuck me?
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Text
Went through the RAM playlist and picked out all my favorite lines
I still don’t know who you are / I only know that I’m still lonely / That morbid sort where even company can’t cure me / And the more you reassure, the less I trust - Against the Kitchen Floor
All the king's horses and all the king's men / Couldn't put me back together again - All the King’s Horses
Make me pay for fucking up the rest of your life - AND I’M GONE
Take my identity / All the best parts of me / And mould them into what you want! - Another Tuesday Night
And it’s my problem if I have no friends and feel I want to die - Are You Satisfied?
A prison’s not always a dark place / With grey closed in walls and big loud chains / They can hide in the skin of a home - As Above So Below
Someday I will go back outside and see her, okay - Baby Hotline
Reborn / Reform / Twist my legs to one / And mind to none : Don’t leave me be / I’m a bathtub mermaid / I cannot swim but only sing - Bathtub Mermaid
I feel like / I never knew you / And I never wanna know you again - Better Off Gone
In this case, just won’t you go and please let it be / Because I still won’t be able to say sorry - Breaking Things Into Pieces
Tell me when to drink, tell me when to eat, tell me when to smile, tell me when to breathe / Tell me when I overreact / No, tell me again, please / I love being told what to do, but only when I'm told by you / At least, that's what I used to think, but nowadays, I'm on the brink - Cannibal
Take this pill, you'll feel much better / When you wake up numb and your brain's been severed - Careful What You Wish For
Take a good look this is me / This is what I’ve come to be - The Chattering Lack of Common Sense
They say they wanna help, but they always fucking leave - CODE MISTAKE
When did I become a man / Trapped inside a ghost? / If you could only see me now / I know I'd disappoint somehow - The Comfort of a Laugh Track
You'll be fine you honeycomb / Who could ever hurt you? Who could be so cold? - Community Gardens
I’ve become what you like / I am what you wanted, right? - Copycat
Stay asleep / And blame / Everyone for giving up - Cross
Oh, circumcise my love for you / It's far too vapid and aimless - Cupid
Under my skin, you're unwrapping / All that I am, I swear / I wanted to keep, I wanted to stay / Deep in your head forever / I wanna show you something / Melting through my brain / Every time you're around / You're assaulting me - D D D N N N A A A
Carved right into my head / Quick lobotomy / Then left me for dead - Dangerous
I don't think I know myself, without your help - A Dangerous Thing
Buried in the basement, cold cement / Dead comes talking, can’t put them to rest - The Dead Come Talking
So I’m taking your narrative, and I’m making it mine - The Dismemberment Song
I’m gonna be in love forever cause I’m gonna die tonight : Transformation complete, transformation complete / You are now, as you once were: beautiful - DOGMATICA
Well, who should I be then, if I'll never be the same? - Dr. Sunshine Is Dead
I’m black, then I’m white / No! Something isn’t right! / My enemy’s invisible, I don’t know how to fight - Echo
And so long to the person you begged me to be / He's down, he's dead / Now take a good long look at what you've done to me - Farewell Wanderlust
You hurt me / You hurt me / But it's all okay / Because I love you anyway : I have no clue what you’re saying / I’m gonna lose my mind! - Folie a Deux
I was shown my place, but I didn’t care for it - Gambler
I get to be dumb, you get to exercise control - GIRL HELL 1999
I’m not her / And I’ll never be / I’m just debris - Going Insane
You told me something along like / The lines of “It’s all my fault that you are the way you are” / That is right, it is all your fault / But I hope you just remember that it's not all there is to it - Heavenly You
A vivisection of me / Done by God for all to see - Honey I’m Home
Am I a toy to you, my love? / Just a thing to play and / Then throw away - A Human’s Touch
My love must be a kind of blind love / I can't see anyone but you - I Only Have Eyes For You
Me and the TV are enemies / Sickening static surrounds my mind - I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead
I've got you under my skin / I've got you deep in the heart of me / So deep in my heart that you're really a part of me - I've Got You Under My Skin
You say that I’m better / Why don’t I feel better? - Karma
Do I know who I pretend to be / Of whom am I a copy? - Language of the Lost
I only turned out to be just one more girl you slew - Let the Record Show
There’s an old voice in my head that’s holding me back / Well, tell her that I miss our little talks - Little Talks
You’re just a clown, just a pet / Whispering love yet again - Loveit?
Some moments last forever, but some flare out with love, love, love - Love Love Love
And now, even though you're mad, and these memories won't stay / That's okay / Cause now I get to meet you for the first time every single day - Marbles
Die once every three minutes - Marijuana’s a Working Woman
Doctor, I can’t tell if I’m not me - The Mind Electric
You want a taste of my brain / Okay, it’s yours anyway - Misery Meat
You were never my god - My Creator
The girl is like an architect / And I am just the new invention - New Invention
Please spare me indignity / And won't you please give me some decency? / And won't you please call it if our time is through? / Cause I know that we fall apart when nothing's new - Nothing’s New
I know exactly what’s best for you / I’ve don’t exactly what’s best for you - Novocaine
You're not a coward 'cause you cower / You're brave because they broke you / Yet broken still you breathe : Cause I'm not trapped, oh with you, you see / You're the one who's trapped with me / Cause you are in the earth of me / You are in the earth of me / My head's not yours, it's mine / And I'll take my fucking time / 'Cause I know, I know, I know - The Old Witch Sleep and the Good Man Grace
Novocaine, lobotomize me, teach me how to think - P3T
Safe from pain and truth and choice and other poison devils - Pet
What’s a pound of flesh between / Friends like me and you - Pound of Flesh
Folded puppets in a chest / Satin, static, lost in manic - Puppeteer
Close your mouth / And your eyes / And your heart / Your new eternity lies with us - Return to the Motherland
I get high to leave all these problems on the ground / Then to my surprise, they're right there when I come back down - Riptide
Look at me, look me in the eyes / Forget yourself, surrender your mind / Right now, you're mine / All mine / Give in, you're mine / All mine - Rule #34
Must be lonely loving someone / Try’na find their way out of a maze - Should’ve Been Me
There's something quite enjoyable when someone is destroyable - Sink or Swim
You hung me on your wall / Stabbed me with your push pins / In public, showed me off - The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived
Now it sounds so good to me and it used to sound so good to me! / It doesn't sound so good to me, it never sounded good to me! - There’s Something Happening
This, this, this is not love / I don’t know what it is / But I know this / This is not love - This Is Not Love
You’d say that things have improved, right? - Those Who Carried On
I made you my temple, my mural, my sky / Now I'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life - tolerate it
I know / You belong to somebody new / But tonight you belong to me - Tonight You Belong to Me
So she dressed me up as the man she loved / Then threw me in a box when she had had enough / Now the light of day I no longer see / She stuck her voodoo pins where my eyes used to be / Accidentally tragic / Victim of her black magic / Had a boy once who loved me / Now he's so afraid of me - Toy Boy
The things I see are a dread I must withstand / On my own - Uncanny
I don’t think there’s anyone under your skin - Under My Skin
I wanted someone tall and firm to reassure that I'm doing this right / But it's starting to hurt when you hold me tight - Unreliable
When I'm too far gone / Dead in the eyes of my friends / Will you take me out of here - Watercolor
Stranger things than death can happen / To lab rat girls and pretty white rabbits - …well, better than the alternative
And when you scream, "I'm not alright" / And throw my picture at the wall / You were supposed to be my light / And keep me safe against them all / "How could you leave me here?" you'll scream / And louder, I'll scream back to you from that unknown / And say, "I know you're strong enough, I know you're strong enough / I know you're strong enough to do this on your own” - Welly Boots
Transformation / You've changed within / Some selfish mutation / A stranger I once called a friend - What Have You Become?
My head is spinning, I am beaten in the end - White Happy
Just take me as I am / A memory so vivid / And savor all the parts you can / Cause no one mourns the wicked - Wicked
You don't have to say you love me / Just be close at hand / You don't have to stay forever / I will understand - You Don't Have to Say You Love Me
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cynicallarrie · 24 days ago
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Polaroid is my favourite Liam Payne song but I also like Midnight and Live Forever which foretells what happened to him sadly.
Jaded, faded, self-medicated
I didn't know I was waiting for you, yeah, yeah
Broken, smoking, 'til you came into focus
Sobered me up off of one hit of you
I was always gonna live fast, die young
Wasn't even trying to chase a high
I just didn't wanna feel so low, low, low
****
Harry - favorites are Falling, As It Was, Satellite, Fine Line
Louis - Holding Onto Heartache. I really like the way the final verse just winds up to a pitch and becomes really impassioned.
You know the party's over
When you're standin' in an empty space alone
And time can always heal ya
If you let it make its way into your bones
Nothing's ever easy
To be honest, I'm not easy on myself
The second that I see ya
The space between us just comes floodin' back
---
I got to say Harry and Louis have written a lot of heartfelt break songs for a couple who many Larries believe have never split once since 2010. I think the truth is very different. You don't write a song like Fine Line about a happy relationship.
I can't listen to Liam's music anymore. There were a lot of songs of his that I listened to for the first time after the fact of his death and they just kind of made me feel this sinking yet empty feeling inside. A lot of them give a real deep insight into the way he was struggling. It's almost as if he knew he was already dead, if that makes any sense.
Even some One Direction songs are haunting now. A lot of references to falling down and hitting the ground (even though I know that's a common metaphor for falling in love) and being left alone in hotel rooms. Kind of creeps me out.
I appreciate Falling but I find it to be a slog. It kind of reminds me of John Legend's "All of Me." Sorry, I just can't help skipping it.
As It Was really had to grow on me, and I understand why it's popular. I still can't say it's in my top ten though.
Satellite is one of my favorites too. It's got a pretty, outerspace-y feel to the instrumental and a cute meaning. Would probably put it in my top five if not top three Harry songs.
This one is about to be a wall of text, so my apologies lol...
Fine Line sounds like an evening spent on the beach after a long, hard day. The gorgeous guitar in it sounds like waves and that's probably on purpose. The little synths that suddenly come in toward I think the middle or close to the middle of the song and that you can just barely hear tug on my heart strings; they kind of give the vibe of, like, childhood innocence and I can't explain why? Maybe they're reminiscent of a toy piano or something? Then Harry's singing in a soft voice and high key throughout the entirety of the song, which almost evokes the tone of someone who's on the brink of tears as he sings about a relationship on the brink of falling apart. However it's still a feel-good song because there's a sliver of hope that things will be "alright" since they'll always be a "fine line," meaning that they'll just have to accept that they'll always be at that breaking point but never let themselves give in to the urge to quit just because it's the easier thing to do. It's a beautiful, beautiful song that I simply cannot attribute to a short-term relationship. I'm not trying to take a detour down Larry lane, but it sounds like everything marriage has always been about. I mean, Harry has never publicly been with a woman for more than two years. I simply cannot imagine somebody writing a song like this or a lyric like "you've got my devotion, but, man, I can hate you sometimes" about someone they've only been with for a brief period of their lives. That lyric alone screams marriage. Don't get it twisted by the way. This is my favorite song of his regardless of who it's about. It's very relatable on its own and again has such a lovely instrumental.
I'll have to give Holding On To Heartache another shot as it's normally a skip for me. Just one of his more boring songs imo. Honestly much of FITF for me is a skip. Whenever an album has an absurd amount of songs, it's usually a situation of quantity over quality. FITF had 18 songs to Walls' 12, and I only have 6 out of the 18 songs from FITF saved to my playlist on Spotify whereas I have 10 out of the 12 from Walls.
There are a lot of reasons to believe H & L broke up some time around 2016 and got back together some time around 2019. Or maybe it was super on-and-off. Who knows what the timeline was. All I know is Louis said Walls was about breaking up with "Eleanor" and then coming full circle back to her. Songs like "Always You" and "All Along" are telling. Harry's debut album seemed like a break-up album, and Fine Line and Walls—both released a month apart from each other—seemed to be about getting back together and trying to make it work again.
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starry-nights12 · 1 year ago
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Despair
One Word Prompt (Jinx's Diary Entry)
CW:Brief mention of torture
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My Ekko is an actor.
He loves to perform every day.
He pretends that he's fine to his community and presents them with a dazzling smile.
Everyone sat in box seats while I had front-row seats to everything he was going through.
They begrudgingly agreed to let me stay before I came here. That's how good of a leader he is.
Get their hated enemy to stay in their sanctuary all because he was in love with me to give me a second chance.
He didn't tell them that. I figured that was his other reason for having me after we started dating.
I didn't come here for their forgiveness nor expect them to even if I did care.
The crazy, sadistic, psycho they resented was the one to comfort him during his time of need.
When he was on the brink of despair I was the one that had to pull him out before he drowned in it.
Their cheerful leader told me about  violent ways he wanted to kill the chembarons and the enforcers.
I told him about Singed gleefuly operated on me when I woke up in the middle of the surgery. He wanted to join me in finding him and torturing him.
I know it's because he loves me. I also know he wants revenge on the man for creating the drug that ravaged our town.
Even though he loved his people and the secret community he created-he sometimes felt lonely. He missed all of us and wished they were here.
All these people do is take and take AND TAKE.
Never ONCE stopping to think that their beloved, respected leader needed help like they do.
The only worthwhile person here is Scar. We hated each other but eventually, he became our mutual friend.
I hate Heimerdinger the most. I'll never understand him letting a Piltie here.
Ekko has too much of a big heart. It's what I admired about him but also found frustrating.
I tucked him in and kissed his forehead. He's sleeping next to me right now.
Sometimes we both have restless nights. Our nightmares terrorize us and the only safe place was to stay awake.
He hadn't tossed and turned, his face didn't scrunch up, and he wasn't crying yet. I hope he sleeps peacefully throughout the night.
He just finished crying over Benzo and wanted me to comfort him. He hates Silco but lets me cry to him about it.
Uncle Benzo was his father and we both loved him. If I never grabbed those crystals I would have never met Silco.
We still would have had our Dads.
He doesn't blame me because we didn't know the fallout would happen.
He blames himself for even telling Vi. He feels like he ruined everything in our lives.
My poor, sweet angel.
It is my fault.
I'm sorry, Ekko.
I ruin everything I touch yet haven't managed to keep you so far.
That's what angels do. They're able to perform miracles.
He's my world.
He's the air that I breath
He's my everything.
If Ekko gets killed because of me then I might as well die too.
I'll only seal your death if I say it aloud but I love you.
I love you SO much that despite Silco scolding me, I let myself become weak around you.
You ARE my weakness.
He hates you for it.
You're my baby.
I love you unconditionally and want to take care of you. You're precious to me and I savour the time we spend together.
I love you, Little Man.♡
I love you.♡
I love you.♡
I love you.♡
I'll always be your girl just like you promised.♡
I'm yours just as much as you are mine.♡
Forever and always.♡
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