#subtractanger

[qwilll]

❛     so uh   ...   I got news .      turns out i’m only half - Terran .     i’m also a celestial ,  thanks to my dad ,  who  along   with being a grade - a douchebag ,  is also some immortal entity that eats planets for a  livin’ .      what’s new with you   ?    ❜

@subtractanger​    /    s.

[eggsyarchived]

❛    I don't wanna play no games .    I don't gotta be afraid .    ❜

@subtractanger    /    s.

[bowvengeraa]

subtractanger replied to your post:  u know marble really could have…… SHOULD have….....

Do we rly want ryand caught up in their shit tho

okay uR RIGHT

[mtchstck-a]

“ Let me put it this way. Every so often things happen that can’t be rationalized in a conventional way. People wanna know their government has a response. Those men over there? They're that response. ” / from jane

                     A passerby might just see two girls at a coffee shop with outdoor seating enjoying the sunshine. But Liv’s hands are balled into tight fists on the tabletop-- the tension almost palpable; Jane’s posture is not unlike a coiled spring. And then there are the men in the suits and dark sunglasses in the town car across the street, pretending to not look at them. She’s had nightmares about this exact scenario.

                     “---I didn’t tell anyone.” Liv whispers. “I’m careful.”

souls don’t die | ACCEPTING

[englacial]

“please… just kiss me…” . / . v ine voice hEL L o?

                        Bewilderment is a mere fraction of the experience. It lasts only a moment. Tristan can’t help but feel his stance adjusts naturally into place as he tilts his head almost quizzically in her direction. There are no quips to be made, no side remarks. He can blink off any sense of hesitation with unnatural ease, and by the time the thin outline of a smile wedges its way into his expression, there’s no tension in his body and his mind is clear. He dips his head down low, bending slightly so that the top of his forehead meets hers and he breathes a breath so slow and quiet it’s almost indistinguishable from her own.

                           There’s a silence so thick he hears his heart thrumming in his ears and his pulse quicken to match the eagerness thwarting his bones. He has to be careful, takes any movement slow and graceful for once in his clumsy, haphazard existence. The warmth of her skin already ghosts against the cool of his own, beckoning a closeness Tristan couldn’t have predicted prior to living it. The need quickly becomes a heat that pools in his cheeks, and the seconds that crawl by on more soft, slow breaths ache like frostbite. 

                        Hiding the soft quaver in his lungs, in his breath, grows difficult; no  —  impossible.

                        “I think that’s a reasonable request.” He says when it becomes too much wait for any sense of comfort to remain. The lengths of calloused fingers graze past her ear to slide into hair, a gentle grasp finding its way to the back of her neck. The careful calculations of his movements prove futile in preventing the next wave of bewilderment that overtakes him, brown eyes desperately soaking in a last glance of her features.

                        He feels caught in the maw of a riptide, had only ventured out of tedious comfort zones without the intent of being sucked so far in. 

                        When lips finally meet hers with a firmness akin to winter storm, he finally thinks he understands what the sun feels like. Emerging from the cavernous expanse below to the light above was but meager preparation for what true sunlight was. His free hand wraps around to cradle the small of her back, begging more closeness than he’s already been granted. Tristan kisses her again  —  considers a third, or a fourth, or a fifth, but breaks the seal between them to hold her out from him, a silent question lingering between them like a pallid strand of moonlight along a frozen lake.

                         There’s a want pressing for more of the warmth she possesses, unfettered like lightning fires ablaze in towering pines come the roars of springtime storms. There’s also a reservation, a fear, a doubt, and a desperate need for her approval that stops him with the same swiftness he’d once arrived at that said kissing her was right. 

                        “From now on,” he murmurs almost tongue tied on the memory of her lips and their shape against his, “you tell me what to do.”

[heheals]

“ he’s only mostly dead. not completely dead... yet. ” / from motherfckngroundhog!

“ i hate to be the bearer of bad news, but i’m one hundred percent sure that he’s completely dead. ”

“ and before you ask ... no, i’m not helping you get rid of the body. ”

[skingames]

‘ i know how to return a favor. ’ / for luke! probs in my mutant or main verse

the godfather sentence starters.   //    accepting. 

“oh yeah?”  brows raising almost comically,  luke leans toward her.  she stands directly in the sun,  blocking much of the light from the dog-eared mass paperback between his hands.  it’s not uncommon,  random passersby approaching him and asking him for things,  little things here and there,  and usually he’s happy to do it,  no questions asked.  usually,  though,  their requests aren’t so cryptic and downright ominous.  he’s equal parts concerned and curious when he goes on,  marking his spot in his book.

“how do you plan to do that?”

[qwilll]

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

TBH TOO MANY

@subtractanger   /    p.

[eggsyarchived]

Intimidation: -300 u have high class but v approachable and kind vibes / Inspiration: 839283928 okay u are that one lady Gaga gif

���💖

@subtractanger    /    p.

[mtchstck-a]

"hey, love. you okay?" / either my first marvel verse or my main verse, your choice b kfaljssadjl

                    “Yeah.” Liv’s voice is soft, tentative. She’s has a hard time letting people see her vulnerable, but right now that’s hard to hide. Sometimes things are just a lot and she can’t hide them. So she absently wipes at her face with her sweater sleeves, “It’s fine.”

reassurance & comfort | ACCEPTING

[bowvengeraa]

subtractanger replied to your post: clint is truly Pretty hecking Smart and he goes...

he isnt a moron he’s an oxymoron

exactly

[mtchstck-a]

🎭

                      m.eagan tandy gives me Clara vibes >:0! I love her face,

alex does the fc thing | ACCEPTING

[englacial]

                        There’s a bouquet of now wilted flowers thrown haphazardly in the back of his car, stray, crumpled petals strewn about the leather seats of his BMW. To any outsiders it might appear to be a carelessness for whomever the lilies-- though he’s not sure she even likes lilies (did she like lilies--? It was a quandary for another time)-- were intended for, but Tristan is actually on a mission. There were much bigger things on his agenda than delivering the flowers in a more presentable state. In fact, this wasn’t just a mission, it was a rescue mission.

                        At half past noon he’d arrived at Clara’s apartment wearing his cleanest plain white shirt, a flannel over top, and faded jeans. It was perhaps the simplest and most cliche out of the rest of his outfit options, but it distinctly read “casual but still put in the effort to not just roll out of bed for a surprise visit” and that was what he was going for. 

                        Prior he’d picked up flowers, lilies, still not sure if she even likes lilies, cleaned out his car (picnic maybe, who knows it was a surprise visit but on the off chance she ended up in the passenger seat he wanted it to be clean), and even went the extra mile to get movie tickets to some probably-should’ve-gone-straight-to-DVD horror movie showing at eight (worst case, she didn’t want to go and he pawned both tickets off to someone else because he wasn’t about to sit through bad acting and fake screams on his own, easy math).

                        However, she wasn’t there. In fact, as her roommate so dutifully informed Tristan, Clara hadn’t been home for two days, no text, no calls  ---  which would explain why his last message to her was “insects are the future of food, clara!” with no snarky, disgusted, confused, or witty reply. “I thought she was with you” is a line usually heard in true crime documentaries just before the discovery of a body is announced so the burning question as to Clara’s whereabouts was not feeling any less dire.

                        A few scrolls back through their messages and he was able to see where she’d announced a trip to some out of the way Thai restaurant (respectable, but not much to go off of), and at around a quarter until three without much luck playing detective and contacting any friends who could possibly know where she was, he got a call with possibly the worst reception he’d heard since buying a smartphone.

                        She had gotten lost. It was an obvious and typical situation for anyone venturing far from home and outside of their element, but still cause for concern. He listened intently to her about how she peddled for change, something about a sketchy guy and maybe a sock full of quarters-- he couldn’t understand the full exchange over cuts in the connection and possibly a very mean dog barking in the background-- but the main thing he was able to piece together was an address which his GPS told him was about a three and a half hour drive out of the way. Clara was out there, somewhere in Nashville with no wallet or working phone, probably exhausted and ready to be home.

                        He let her know how long it would be and tells her to wait inside until it’s close to when he’d get there (sometime around six in the afternoon wasn’t too shabby) and apprehensively hangs up just before the minutes on her payphone expire.

                        Long drives are not his favorite and it wasn’t just because he could afford to fly most days and wasn’t used to it, it was the drone of scenery, the radio channels that either cut out too much to be worth it or played God-fearing “the world is ending” type talk shows with no in between, and the anomalous bad smells that seemed to haunt certain roads for no reason in particular other than to thwart his nostrils with an onslaught of too specific memories of past road trips and the desire to purchase fifty car air fresheners. 

                        The drive, all that aside, isn’t nearly as bad as he expected. Though he may be out in the sticks, it was kind of scenic. The drive through Nashville was fine despite his dislike of driving in downtown areas, he thinks he may have even passed the Thai place Clara had mentioned. However, getting past Nashville-- at least the city part that actually mattered-- on the other hand, placed him god knows where with bad internet service, practically no phone reception, and a lot of questions as to how Clara ended up... here, of all places, and so far off course.

                        He’s pulling into the parking lot about three hours and fifteen minutes after starting on course despite picking up fast food en route  ---  he imagines she’s starving. Being just slightly ahead of schedule is thanks to a quick engine, not following the speed limit, and running a few red lights courtesy of looking at his phone more than the road. Rolling up makes him feel a little too luxurious for the outskirts of Nashville. The siding on the hotel is halfway falling apart, the railing rusted over in a ruddy brown that just screams “you’ll need a tetanus shot after sleeping here”, the stairwell is a lawsuit waiting to happen, and he doubts any of the lights work with all the broken glass littering the too small parking lot. He has to swerve around a piece of scrap metal-- who knows how it even ended up there-- to spare his tires another potential disaster. The levels of sketchiness do not improve. He sticks out like a sore thumb in his new BMW and thinks reflectively that maybe he should’ve driven the Camry, then decides that the fact that he even has multiple options just reaffirms how out of place he is. 

                         As he finally pulls up in view of Clara, he rolls the window down and offers a sympathetic smile, pushing sunglasses up to the top of his head (not that she’d expect anyone else). She looks about how he imagined she’d look after spending the night in the middle of nowhere, merely trying to get a good hookup on Thai food. “I hate to break it to you, but this one’s goin’ in the Netflix special.” He announces, a glance from her to the tree hidden horizon affirming the sun was on its way down. “You didn’t get any preventable diseases from this place, did you?”

@subtractanger​  /  closed starter insp.

[qwilll]

♡ / pre established meme!

FRIENDS.   childhood friends  /  work friends  /  family friends  /  recently friends  /  turning antagonistic  /  turning into something romantic  /  stable  /  falling apart  /  friendship of need  /  friendship of circumstance  / pen - pals or internet friends  /  coworkers  /  partners  /  other .

ROMANCE.   childhood sweethearts  /  newly entered  /  soulmates  /  skinny love  /  unrequited from my muses side  /  unrequited from your muses side  /  friends with benefits  /  awkward  /  fading  /  turning  toxic  /  toxic  and  destructive  /  other .

FAMILIAL BOND.   sibling bond  /  older sibling figure to your muse  /  younger sibling figure to your muse  /  parental figure to your muse  /  parental figure to your muse  /  guardian figure  /  legal  guardian  /  other .

ENEMIES.   dangerous to themselves  /  dangerous to others  /  unpredictable  /  passionate  /  rivals  /  petty  /  developing into a sexual tension  /  developing into a romantic tension  /  based off family matters  /  based of circumstance  /  based of professional matters  /  based of misunderstandings or lies  /  other .

@subtractanger    /    p.    /    sel.

[englacial]

ϟ

                         “What, this?” He turns his hand over palm side up, the nearly invisible mark extending from the top of his hand at the base of his middle finger down past his thumb to the pad of his hand. “I don’t really remember it. Well, I don’t remember what exactly happened at least, something about a silo… I was just a kid.” He says. “Mostly I remember the aftermath, you know physical therapy type stuff — every day… for years. Didn’t do too much for me. It still doesn’t work the way it used to.” He smiles softly, a soft breathy laugh slipping past his lips. “Guess it’s a good thing I’m not left handed.”

[englacial]

‘guess you were right’

                         “I mean, I could’ve told you that but thanks for admitting it.” There’s a half smile tugging at the corners of his lips. It softens after a moment, something more reassuring and hopeful capturing his gaze. “Me being right… is less important than whether or not you’re okay, though.”