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sarandipitywrites · 7 months

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Word Find Tag

from an open tag from @i-can-even-burn-salad, here.

my words: blood/bleed, scream, impale and shatter.

your words: electric, fire, bury, and spit.

a gentle tag to @innocentlymacabre, @spuddlespud, and an open tag to anyone else who wants to play

these are all from my fanfic WIP, "Dead Roots, Dark Water." under the cut for brief gore and references to past trauma

Blood

They hit the floor and rolled. Daxter gasped, smoke and heat singing his lungs. Cold metal scraped across his forehead, left burning skin in its wake. The weight left him, the air on his back frigid in its absence. He turned his head, cheek pressed to the floor. The room spun, blurry silver on red on yellow. A gray shape moved between Daxter and the red. It stepped forward and let out a roar. Guttural. Inhuman. Daxter’s mouth went dry. “Mar’s blood—” “What is that?” “One of those… things.” “That’s what they told us to—?” “Shoot it, shoot it—” The prisoner coiled and pounced upon the guards. They drove their elbow through the first guard’s faceplate with a crunch. Bright red flecked the floor by Daxter’s face. Acid rose in Daxter’s throat. He groaned and rolled onto his back, pressed his fingers into the corners of his eyes. Screams, snarls, squelches echoed in the darkness behind his eyelids.

Scream

Red metal approached them, helmet fixed straight ahead, staring past. It would pass right by, close enough to touch. Close enough to grab, to bend the arms back until joints popped from sockets, to bury his fingers into the thin cloth connecting helmet to breastplate until they found flesh, to dig deeper until red ran over red, until his fingernails scraped tracheal cartilage and the screams whistled out through punctured— Jak dug his nails into his palm, gnashed his teeth until his jaw screamed. The guard walked past. It didn’t look at him once. But Daxter did.

Impale

—Electric fire burned under his skin, tore through his bones. He arched up, away from the metal table. Straps cut into his wrists and ankles. Through the screaming and the blood and the ozone, a voice. “I was told this one might be different.” A presence beside him. “You will succeed.” A large hand clamped around his jaw, squeezed until the hinge popped. “Or you will die trying.” More pain, more eco, too much, his heart would burst, send it away, away— “—k? Jak.” The brassy, nasal shrill cut through the roar of blood in his ears. His breath rattled in his lungs. A red light. The impaled metal head sigil floating over a steel podium. Daxter. Daxter was there. It wasn’t real. If Daxter was there, then the injector was not. It wasn’t real.

Shatter

Samos chewed his tongue, but he'd already made his decision. "There's no saving it," he declared. "We'll need to amputate." He got out the bone saw and sutures, the poppy tincture and leather strips. He sat Adis at the exam table and turned to Jak. "You'll take this from here, my boy. You know what to do." That pulled Jak from his trance, from the bits of bone poking out of the flesh like splinters of shattered stars. What did Samos mean, he 'knew'? He 'knew' in the sense that he'd read about it in textbooks and lab notes, but he'd never seen it done. The only amputee in Sandover was Gord, and if there'd ever been a Harvest Eve where Gord didn't drink too much ale and tell everyone about the lurker shark that'd gotten his leg, it was too long ago for Jak to remember— "Remember to give him exactly seven drops of tincture, and leave enough skin to cover the stump. Good luck, my boy." Samos clopped away, his cane striking the floor with each step. Zeb and Adis stared at Jak. At the boy in whose care they'd been left.

#word find tag #tag games #my writing #fanfic #jak and daxter #dead roots dark water

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assomoir · 4 years

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the sky might be falling; but the stars look good on you

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Pairing: Theodorus van Gogh x MC

Summary: A peek into a day of Theo’s life [and a reminder that she had her insecurities sometimes].

Note: Written for the @ikevamp-holiday-exchange ! Hello @ceet , I enjoyed writing this (although writing non-smut was a challenge for me), so I really hope you’d like this too :) I saw your tags, so here’s to the both of us being fools for this man.

Title taken from the music of Ólafur Arnalds’ biography.

She slept in his room more often than not these days, and Theo’s morning routine shifted to accommodate her presence.

Between the two of them, he would wake up first. It’s a hard-formed habit carried over from the years before his death; one he sustained for many reasons, but also because she looked softer in the pale gray of dawn. Lights from his chandelier fell on her sleeping form, and he propped himself up as his eyes were inexorably drawn to the way the sheets shaped themselves over her waist, the drape of hair over her breasts, the trail of hickeys blossoming along her body—

She stirred under his gaze, and blinked her eyes open with a yawn.

“Theo..?”

“Yeah.” He leaned back on the pillows, enjoying the way her languid stretches shifted the covers and exposed more skin. “Good morning.”

The patches of red scattered on her neck seemed to call for his touch, because he knew they matched the curve of his teeth – remembered how she tasted on his tongue. When he reached out to touch them, she pressed a string of open-mouthed kisses on his palm, a pleased smile forming on her lips, the echo of flame dancing in her eyes.

(There’s something about her that, when seen in these quiet, intimate twilight hours, felt like something really close to perfection. He’d seen it in the way she lowered her lashes as she bent down for a kiss, or in the way her back arched as he drove her over that maddening edge for the umpteenth time in a night.)

(It still left him breathless every time.)

“…hey,” he half-heartedly asked— no, warned her, if she really wanted to rouse him so early in the morning, when the rasp in her voice is still so clearly audible and the marks she left on his back still tingled.

(He absently looked down to find that her trimmed fingernails had grown longer, and thought about how he would know about it; for he wore the shape of them in various parts across his own body.)

“Sorry, sorry,” she chuckled, “but ten more minutes, please?”

Theo hummed in assent, suppressing his smile. Kissed the top of her head and quietly let the fire, simmering low in his stomach, burn.

Most days, they work together. This cloudy Friday was one of those days.

Their only client that noon was an elderly nobleman in his late 50s, a Marquis Theo adored due to his kind disposition and shared appreciation toward the impressionist movement. Negotiations involving two of Vincent's paintings had gone swimmingly well, and as they stepped out of the gates, just before he hailed a carriage to take them home, she grabbed his sleeve and shyly asked if they could, perhaps, go for a stroll around the city? If he would like to have a little date before going back, because she had dressed up in a dress that matched his new suit, which would be wasted if they weren’t paraded around town for a bit, especially since the weather was nice albeit a little cold, and it would do him no harm to slow down because he had always been working hard, and—

"Sure," he said, effectively cutting her off, yet the fond amusement was plain to hear even for himself.

It's going to rain, he thought, glancing up at the sky overhead. We can go tomorrow instead, on our day off. But he went along with her plans anyway, mostly because Theo had stopped trying to tell himself that he still had any semblance of self-control around her months ago.

(That, and something about her had seemed a little sad this morning. It upset him in a way he couldn’t quite understand.)

So she took him to the Louvre, where everything began – saying that despite having visited the place many times over, he still owed her a proper tour of the museum. They ventured into the Assyrian Gallery, walking among creatures of black marbles and gray stones that left them more than a little amused. In the French Gallery, Géricault's Raft of the Medusa stole her attention at once – but when he explained the event depicted behind the painting, she had this extremely sad expression on her face – such that he had to practically drag her into the next gallery, half-panicked, so she wouldn't cry. It worked, though, because the mirror-like floor and gilded ceiling in the Gallery of Apollo fascinated her. They spent the rest of their visit admiring the artworks in Salon Carré: him explaining the Wedding at Cana, Pardo Venus, Soult's Virgin, Titian's Mistress, and them snickering in front of Mona Lisa and la Belle Ferronnieré.

By the time they stepped out of the Louvre, it was already half past three in the afternoon. The chilly November air had gotten even colder; the sky considerably darker.

(But her smile got a little wider, too.)

Expecting the rain to come any time now, he took her to this quaint café-slash-bookstore tucked in the corner of the 1st arrondissement. True enough, the storm started in the middle of their late-afternoon meal – and they watched the passerby bursting into a hurried frenzy all at once. After a little less than an hour it turned into nothing more than a light drizzle, but the streets had turned muddy and her skirt must be hiked up high when crossing Place Vendôme. The rain had not dampened her mood at all, though, for she kept humming happily as they passed through the high column overlooking the square.

“I assume you're no longer sad?”

She blinked at him. Once, twice, before timidly grinned. “I wasn't sad though. Things went smoothly at work, and you’ve been very indulgent today."

"...Has it ever occurred to you that those two things are probably related?"

The tinkle of her laugh filled the air, alongside the scent of petrichor as the shower ceased to an end. Rain had always lent the city some sort of a gloomy mood, but for the first time, Theo took a deep breath and let himself bask in it.

Maybe because somehow, the amber glow of streetlights looked a bit more somber than usual, and it bathed the city in a warm luster despite the crisp atmosphere. Seine was flowing by, where from this distance, they could see the turbulent waters moving below Pont Royal. The hustle of shops lined up on the other side of the street and busy traffic rumbled the sidewalk they were walking on, giving that distinct, noisy bustle he had grown to associate with the city.

She took his arm as they continued walking along the cobblestone, and he was struck quiet by the strange thought of how at home she looked like. As if she belonged right here, in 19th century Paris, all along—

"It's just— I was thinking," she suddenly murmured, "that I've been here for almost a year. Time flew really quickly. I'm still very happy, though."

It was almost imperceptible, the way she turned her head to glance at him – like she did whenever she was unsure about asking him something – but enough for him to press an encouraging kiss on her temple. Go on, he conveyed. I'm listening.

"...I hope you're still happy too, Theo."

Ah.

The faint kaleidoscope on the river was reflected on her eyes not unlike the starlight, and when the following silence stretched for a second too long, his next words slipped out without permission.

"I can promise you, I've never been happier in all my life."

A burst of giggle escaped her. His brain, half-relieved and half-caught off-guard, scrambled for a response, and ended up blurting the first thing that came to mind.

"Don't laugh! I'm serious."

"I know, I know, but it's adorable. You indulged all my wishes because you thought I was sad?"

"...It's because you did great today. That calls for some treats, no?"

She quickly recovered and playfully smacked his shoulder, but he inwardly cringed because it actually hurt. He deserved it, though. "Again! I'm not your puppy."

"Really? But puppies are cute, I love them."

"I'm cuter."

"Well yeah, you are."

She was clearly taken aback by this, and he couldn't help but snort at her flabbergasted expression.

"Theo!"

That evening, he kissed her hard and rough, tangling his fingers in the strands of her hair. I haven’t had dinner, he teased, voice low and tempting, his breath hot on her lips. May I? She couldn’t help but moan then, a hand fisted in the fabric of his shirt, the other pushing his head to her neck. Heat consumed them as he carried her to the bed, prompting him to strip her down and let his body do the talking for the next few hours.

Later, when the high had worn down, he pulled her into his arms – freshly bathed, smelling like roses – and she grew quiet, lulled by the distant thunder and the sound of raindrops. He watched the light playing tricks on her hair, heart softer than the spun silk of her nightgown, and thought—

If I could spend eternity like this—

“Theo, sleep.”

He smirked. “Why is the dog telling me what to do?”

“Because you’re thinking too loudly,” she smiled knowingly, and his own softened. “I love you, you know that?”

Sometimes Theo forgot just how easily she unraveled him in all the ways that counted, leaving him a flustered mess wrapped around her little finger. “…Cheeky hondje. I love you too.”

If he was any lesser man, he’d probably skip all those elaborate, carefully-crafted plan about proposing and just drop on one knee right there and then; the lack of ring be damned. But since he liked to think he still had a teeny bit of restraint (however small) a peck on her forehead was deemed enough, followed by drawing the cover higher over their bodies.

She’s here, he mused before drifting off to sleep.

For as long as they had each other, he existed only in bliss.

#ikemen vampire #2019ikevampholidayexchange #ikevamp theo #ikemen vampire theodorus #BRO THE ORIGINAL POST GOT DELETED BY ACCIDENT WTF #IM SAD #IT ALREADY HAVE NOTES????#sorry guys pls bear with this one #its exactly the same though just different line break sfjksdhgfhjskd #once again thank u emile zola for the historical facts #my writing

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merryfortune · 5 years

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July 12th – Day 6: Honeymoon / School AU / Promises

· Title: A Bizarre Sight: Part 6

· Ship: Johnny/Rina

· Prompt: Promises

· Rating: G

· Summary: Johnny tries an apple from Rina’s father’s orchard.

· Word Count: 587

· Warning/Tags: Fluff, Established Relationship

Johnny inspected the apple tersely with a quivering lower lip and arching brow, “And you reckon this thing – this ringo, as you called it – will taste better than any American apple I’ve ever had?”

“Yes.” Rina giggled.

Johnny was sceptical. He was too rotted with American patriotism to believe the foreign woman who had captured his heart. Besides, it was more fun if he teased her by being obstinate and stubborn. She found it endearing and he liked the way her eyes glittered when she watched him being cute. But he had to admit. The skin of this red apple shone more like a jewel than the rind of a fruit. It had a tart smell to it which made his mouth water.

“Alright, let’s test your theory then.” Johnny said and with a wink, he then added: “Watch this.”

Johnny firmly placed his hands on the apple, top and bottom, and grunted. He exerted all the strength that he could onto it and succeeded. The apple split down the middle clean and with a squirt of juice. He huffed at himself for the mess, but he was glad that he was the only one who had gotten wet. Besides, that would give Rina a great excuse to clean him up; touch him up and down.

“My,” Rina began, hiding her mouth behind her sleeve, fluttering her eyelashes at Johnny, “what a strong man.”

“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet, hon.” Johnny said as he handed Rina one half of the apple. “I’m a real fussbudget; a brat, if you will. I can’t stand eating the skin.”

Johnny clicked his tongue and under his breath, he summoned Tusk. Tusk chittered beside him and his hands, ragged and bony, soon glittered with tiny blue stars. Rina gasped as she noticed the pattern on him.

“This is my special trick, I was tellin’ ya about.” Johnny said.

His fingernails began to vibrate. It used to hurt him at first; just the sight made him wince and now, Rina was the one who looked slightly sickened by how the keratin and polish spun at the tips of his fingers. Johnny laughed as he turned over his half of the apple. He slid his finger just below where the rind was and soon enough, it was coming off too easy. The rind flicked and curled about, flying off at high speed and Johnny happily lifted a finger to it. He caught it on the bend and straightened out his breathing. He exerted just a little bit of the Spin and he was able to make the discarded rind dance how he plead.

Rina gasped in awe. “Wow, magnificent. I’ve never seen a trick like this before.” she praised him.

Johnny’s head swelled with her niceties. “Thank you muchly.” he said, far too proud.

“But enough fun and games,” Rina insisted, “try the apple from my father’s orchard.”

Johnny smiled as he bit into the skinless half of his apple. His eyes brightened as soon as his teeth sank into its juicy flesh. He ate it hungrily and Rina laughed, amused, whilst she nibbled on the half of the apple she had been given. Soon enough, Johnny was licking his fingers clean.

“That was like, super, good. Easily the best apple I’ve ever eaten. Man, think of the apple pies you could make with these babies…” Johnny said.

“Perhaps you ought to show me how to make it.” Rina said.

“Oh, definitely, that sounds great.” Johnny said, nodding his head and smiling vibrantly.

#jjbararepairweek2k19 #jjbararepairweek2019 #johnny x rina #rina x johnny #johnny joestair #higashikata rina #rina higashikata #steel ball run #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jjba #writing tag #i was gonna wait til the blog posts the notification but i want attention NOW PLEASE #also i love johnny... he deserves to be happy

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dresupi · 5 years

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magic eraser

Darcy Lewis Crack Challenge 2019 | Day 5: A Literal Eraser |

Summary:

How was he supposed to know the damn thing would actually erase her hand?

Well, not erase exactly…

But to hear her talk, it's close enough.

"Loki. Do I need to hire a babysitter for you or something?" Darcy asked, reaching over and gingerly taking the blinking black and green device from his hands.

He'd never seen anything like this piece of tech before, but if he had to guess, he'd say it had something to do with Dr. Foster's ever-changing star charts. "I know Janey's got some shiny blinkies, but you really have to learn to control yourself, babe," she continued, safely placing the piece of tech out of his reach.

Well, not really. He could have it if he wanted. That was the point, wasn't it? He liked irking Darcy Lewis.

All in all, he'd call what he had for Foster's lab assistant a 'mixed attraction'. A general fondness with a side of liking the way her voice sounded when she was annoyed.

"Who do you think they'd task with looking after me?" he pondered aloud, leaning over on the counter and cupping his chin in his hand as he gazed over at Ms. Lewis expectantly. "Do you think they'd hire some security officer to subdue me with brute force, or do you think they'd ask you?"

She frowned a little and looked at him. He liked the way her forehead wrinkled just between her eyebrows. "Knowing Jane, she'd ask me. She knows you can't stand being told what to do, and by someone so clearly your inferior, all the better. Or worse. Whichever." Her frown had disappeared by the time she'd finished talking, a triumphant little quirk in her smile tugged the corners of her mouth instead. He liked the corners of her mouth as well, so let her have her triumph.

"You believe yourself to be my inferior?" he drawled.

"No. I think I'm pretty hot shit. But I happen to know you don't agree," she countered. "So like… if it bothers you, I'm game."

He smirked slightly. If she only knew exactly what he thought of her. 'Hot shit' didn't begin to cover it.

"Go speak to Dr. Foster, then. If it would bring you such pleasure to boss me around."

Color rose in her cheeks and she glanced down at her laptop instead, stammering something about talking to Jane later if he didn't stop his nonsense.

As adorable as her blushing and stammering were, he already had his eye on another item from Jane's workstation. This one looked relatively harmless. And if it urged Ms. Lewis to speak with Jane about his lack of supervision, all the better. He would simply adore more time spent in Darcy's company.

He pushed up from the empty counter and sauntered over to the table, making sure to ease his feet down on the floor as quietly as he was able. Too quiet for Darcy's Midgardian ears, at any rate.

Scooping up the device, he turned it over in his hands. "What does this do?"

"Seriously dude? You can't even wait five minutes before you're back on your bullshit?" She made a grab for the object, and he tossed it easily to his other hand, holding it behind his back so she had to reach around him.

He smirked. "Surely you've seen Dr. Foster use it before?"

"No, actually. I haven't seen that one in action. So for all I know, it blows up planets. Please. Give it back to me before it Alderaans us into oblivion."

Grinning, he held it just out of her reach. "Surely she wouldn't have something such as that in her possession. Just lying around for me to find."

Darcy pursed her lips and jumped up, grabbing for the device in her left hand. He'd let her have it in just a moment. "Whatever. Just give it back, dude."

"Since you asked so nicely--" he began, stopping short when her thumb and forefinger grabbed it, pressing against the front panel. Darcy screamed loudly a split second later when her hand disappeared.

"OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD!" she screeched, grabbing the sleeve of her sweatshirt and yanking it up to reveal a bare wrist. She turned it towards her face and immediately turned a horrible shade of puce. "OH MY GOD!" She wavered on her feet and Loki dropped the device on the table and slipped an arm around her, catching her just in time.

He peered at her wrist, seeing exactly what had made her queasy. Her hand was gone, that much he knew already. But, in its wake was a neatly sliced wrist. Not a wound, per se. There was no blood gushing. The flesh around it wasn't angry or inflamed. It simply looked like he was peering through a window at her bone and circulatory system.

"Are you in pain?" he asked, frowning before lifting her up and onto the counter in front of him.

"No… no? Am I in shock, FRIDAY?"

"Your heart rate is increased, Ms. Lewis, and you seem to be in a slightly panicked state. But otherwise, you seem fine. I'll continue to monitor your vitals just in case? Is that okay?"

"Yes, that's fine," she said absently, suddenly realizing she was still in Loki's embrace. She stepped to the side, swallowing thickly as she reached for one of the rolling stools.

"How does it feel?" he asked, nodding down to her wrist. "Are you certain you're not in pain?"

"No, I don't feel any different… it's like nothing's wrong… like my hand's still there… oh my god, is this what phantom limbs feel like?"

Loki frowned. "I'm sure I have no idea. What sort of… sensation do you have in the fingers??"

"My entire hand… the one that's gone? It feels... " She frowned, closing her eyes. "It feels like it's crawling."

"Your skin?"

"No. My hand. My fingertips are on something hard. It's moving. Like it's walking. Like 'Thing' from the Addams' Family."

"You're delirious…" he concluded, making to carry her to the med bay and alert the staff. He'd no sooner taken a step towards her than she stopped him.

"No. I mean it… Let me see if I can…" She frowned, deep in concentration.

A rapping sounded across the lab.

"There!" she said triumphantly. "That was me."

Loki's eyes narrowed as he took a few steps towards the sound. "Do it again."

The rapping continued and Loki darted off in the direction from whence it came. Darcy hopped off the table and followed him.

Once he'd reached the far wall, where the sound seemed to be originating, he knelt down, listening to a peculiar rustling and alternating raps until one of the large silver vents near him burst open and Darcy's hand skittered out onto the floor.

Or at least, he assumed it was Darcy's. He wasn't aware of any other rogue appendages running around the labs, but he wouldn't put it past these people. This one had lovely teal painted fingernails and a silver ring, so he was almost positive it was hers.

Loki jumped back and Darcy shrieked. "Grab it! Loki! Grab my hand!"

"If you insist," he teased, taking off after it, but the little bugger was too fast.

Darcy jumped up on the countertop, eyes scanning the floor and yelling directions for him. Badly.

"IT'S BY THE THING! It's over by the red blinky lights! The red blinky lights!"

"Where is that?" he countered.

"Never mind! THE DOOR! THE DOOR!" She yelped, pointing not to the front door, but the supply closet.

The hand leaped up and grasped the handle, opening it and running inside.

Loki quickly shut the door and spun, holding it closed. "There aren't any vents in there, are there?"

"Just the one on the door that ventilates the space," she replied.

"No others?"

Darcy glanced up at the ceiling. "FRIDAY? Are there any heating or cooling ducts that lead into this closet?"

"No. The only way in or out is through the door," Stark's A.I replied automatically. Loki was slightly jealous, the A.I wouldn't speak to him unless he tried to go somewhere he shouldn't.

"Good. It's trapped. Now, help me barricade the door…" Darcy hopped down off the counter and shed her hoodie as she placed her attached hand on a rolling file cabinet with locking wheels.

Loki took care of that one and one other for good measure, starting to roll them both towards the closed supply closet. He was at least partially responsible for her runaway hand, and he had two working ones attached to his wrists, so it was the least he could do.

But of course, at that precise moment, Jane and Thor reappeared in the doorway. Loki's stomach dropped. Having to explain this to his brother was bad enough. But Dr. Foster might slap him again.

He glanced over at Darcy, who, unprompted, jammed her hand into a nearby bag of potato chips just as they approached. An odd feeling swept through his abdomen. Almost as if he were falling from a great distance. Without the hard landing.

"What are you two up to?" Thor asked, warily reaching out to wave his hand over Loki's shoulder, slapping him in the process. Loki rolled his eyes.

"Just some redecorating," Darcy said, hand still in the chip bag. "And eating chips."

Jane and Thor gave them some odd looks but continued over to Jane's main work area.

There was a clatter from the bottom of the door as the grated opening at the bottom of the door came crashing out onto the floor. Loki half expected Jane to start screaming as Darcy had, but nothing happened.

Perhaps the hand had remained in the room after seeing Thor out here.

If it could see. It was only a hand after all. Perhaps it sensed things. A soft tugging on his pant leg soon answered that question, however.

His eyes went wide as Darcy's runaway hand crept its way up the back of his leg. He glanced over at Darcy, who was also wide-eyed. "Sorry," she mouthed, shrugging slightly as it moved over the back of his thigh and up over the swell of his rear.

He shifted slightly and reached back to grab it, to perhaps stop it from feeling up Thor next, but when he turned to look for it, he saw nothing. Instead, he felt something tap his shoulder.

"Um… Loki. You seem to have an extra… hand," Thor replied, looking with a bemused expression as Ms. Lewis' hand tapped once more on his shoulder.

"Don't just stand there, help me catch it!" Loki growled.

Darcy squealed. "Be gentle, Thor, it's my hand!" She pulled her wrist out of the chip bag and Thor, without missing a beat, grasped the rogue hand tightly. It slipped from his grasp into Loki's, who laced his fingers and held it tight.

"If you wanted to hold Darcy's hand, you only need to ask her, brother!" Thor joked with a wink.

Loki sighed heavily, seriously struggling to not hold the hand too tightly, but also to keep it from bursting free once more.

"Darcy, how even…" Jane asked, reaching for the exact device that had caused the issue in the first place. "You cannot mess with my spacial modifier… it's not one hundred percent working correctly!"

"No kidding!" Darcy exclaimed. "It sent my hand rogue."

Jane sighed. "Yeah, mine takes a nap whenever I try to use it. Makes it easy to reattach, but I can't ever get anything done. Apparently, yours runs through the walls and gropes Asgardians. I can't say I'm surprised."

Darcy shrugged. "What can I say? I have a type." She winked at Loki and he felt that same sweeping feeling once more. He almost let go of her hand. Almost.

Jane eyed him, clearly amused at his clear discomfort. "Here, Loki… hold her hand still. Darce, bring your wrist up to where it attaches. I'll get it back on there for you."Thirty seconds later and Darcy's hand was reattached and still clasped tightly in Loki's grasp. She wriggled her fingers against his hand and he quickly let go, pressing his lips together as he took a few steps back."Woo, thanks, Janey!" Darcy wiggled her fingers and stared at it in wonder. "I should probably wash this, right? No idea where it's been."

"I know of at least one place," Thor muttered, chuckling when Loki glared in his direction.

"Close your mouth," he hissed.

"Close yours," Thor countered. "You're the one blindly flirting with a woman and doing nothing about it."

"I'm doing plenty."

"Sounds as if her hand has gotten further than you have."

"I've been biding my time," he said. "I want her to be certain she wants more before I--"

Thor's gaze flitted from Loki to where Darcy was standing across the room. He spoke loudly, "Loki should take you to lunch to make up for losing your hand!".

Darcy stopped in mid-scrub. "Yeah! He should! Lunch, Loki?"

He turned to face his brother, ready to chastise him for sticking his great big nose where it didn't belong, but instead, he simply mouthed 'Thank you' before turning back to Darcy. "That sounds lovely. Where to?"

"I dunno, but you lost my hand. I'm thinking something expensive. Maybe nothing that costs an arm and a leg. Maybe just an arm, you know?" she grinned brilliantly, and the feeling returned to his stomach.

"Whatever you'd like."

She raised her eyebrows. "Wow. Meek is a new color for you. I kind of prefer the snark, honestly."

If she wanted snark, he could definitely provide it. He smiled and offered his arm. "Here. let's put that hand somewhere for safe keeping." He reached out and placed it in the crook of his elbow. "Can't have you losing it again."

"Hey, buddy. I didn't lose it!"

"If I recall, it was you who pushed the button, so…"

#Tasertricks #Darcy Lewis #Loki #Darcy/Loki #dlaf2019 #Crack Challenge

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oscalesoffeeling · 1 year

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me (he/her) and my gaygirl husband (he/him)

picrew

#he spun the stars on his fingernails (tag)#ellie rambles about stuff #i love this pic of him :) he isss sooooooo handsome

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monkeystokes5 · 4 years

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Lila sat on a hay bale near the State Fair midway, taking inventory. Her straw market bag was well stocked. Three pounds of butterbeans. A huckleberry pie. Seven fat Beefsteaks for BLTs (the boy loved BLTs according to his mama). A jar of Norman’s prize-winning sourwood honey, a chunk of honeycomb glistening in the elixir. One dozen AA Leghorn eggs. And the kid’s half-eaten bag of kettle corn.

Poor kid had been tagging along while she squeezed tomatoes and caught up with scattered farm folk, her chance each year to see old pals.

Lila looked up from her bag. Speak of the devil.

“Hiya, kiddo, how was it?”

“They won’t let me ride." The kid clutched unused carnival tickets, looking at his shoes in defeat.

“You need more tickets?”

“No, m'am. I gotta be accompanied by an adult.”

“Cory, you know to call me Lila.”

The kid looked despondent. “Yes’m. Lila.”

He was her only grandchild, and if this trial-run relationship neither wanted was going to work she had no intention of being called "Meemaw" or some other nonsensical combination of syllables.

The kid sat beside her, kicking dirt. She’d been promising he could ride the damn ride for the last three hours. Lila looked toward the midway, a neon chaos of moving parts, rock and roll, blaring PA.

Goddammit.

“Which one was it you had your heart set on?”

Cory pointed to a massive spaceship, an ELO album cover blinking with seizure-inducing lights, spinning like a giant’s top.

“The Gravitron. Everybody says it’s the best.”

Lila contemplated the beastly UFO. Goddammit.

He wasn’t even begging. The kid was defeated. With a father taking off on mom and mom taking off on antidepressants and red wine, he’d hit eight-year-old rock bottom. Sent to live with Grandma in Creedmoor, NC.

Lila stood up and headed for the spaceship, resigned and resolute, like a hypnotized abductee drawn by mysterious forces. Her feet were killing her.

But the kid was beaming. How bad could it be?

The fuzzy-lipped carny looked high. To Lila, all teenagers looked high. He took their tickets without taking his eyes off a girl whose Bic he was attempting to flick.

They stepped over a gap into the spaceship’s interior, a circular chamber with red-padded wall panels slanting outward to the ceiling. Cartoons of little green men glowed under black light. Christmas-light constellations twinkled.

Cory's eyes were wide. “My friend Karl says it’s like being in space.”

The other riders -- teens and a posse of intoxicated yahoos -- were picking spots, leaning their backs against padded slats of wall. No seats, safety belts, or handlebars. Lila clutched her bag, her lap not an option. She’d just hold tight.

The spaceship filled up about halfway. The carny bounced in, cigarette dangling, flipped a switch, then bounded back out, ducking under the closing hatch door.

Lights dimmed. A recording sounding like someone with a mouthful of Jello talking through a tin can filled the chamber.

“Greetings Earthlings. Welcome to the Gravitron 3000, your transit vehicle to the wild unknowns of outer space...”

The room moved counterclockwise. Lights danced in sync with those dopey notes from that Richard Dreyfus movie. The riders whooped. The yahoos belched. Lila tightened her grip on her bag.

The ship picked up speed, "Cantina Theme" from Star Wars blasting. Suddenly her feet felt better. She was getting lighter. In fact, she was lifting off the ground, the panel she was leaning against traveling upwards. Cory's panel rose even higher. They were now eye-to-eye. He was giggling.

The wall slats were moving on glider tracks, smacking against the ceiling with loud clanks.

The straw bag sought its own equilibrium, sliding down around Lila’s knees. She leaned forward to grab it, but centrifugal force kept her pinned against the wall. Shit.

On her second lunge, her fingernails punctured the bag of butterbeans, which spilled and peppered passengers like a vegan hailstorm as the spaceship spun faster. Bewildered profanity cut through the music.

A fat tomato escaped, bouncing off a pimple-faced kid, hovering in midair a split-second before ricocheting off a yahoo onto a girl in a tube top, who, thinking he’d thrown at her, caught the damn thing and fired back like a starting pitcher. With targets moving like shooting gallery ducks, she missed, hitting a pig-tailed girl who went Spiderman-crawling sideways to deliver payback.

Lila watched her prize honey jar roll up out of her bag along the top of the wall like a roulette ball, then drop onto an entrance railing, breaking in a gooey smash, sending the honeycomb smack into the cleavage of a fat girl in a tank top who wiped a finger between her bosoms and licked.

Cory and Lila bust out laughing. What else was there to do?

Six more tomatoes were by now exploding around the room, kettle corn twisting into a funnel cloud by the center console. A tomato thunked Cory on the chest.

Lila crawled her hand down to her bag. The egg carton was miraculously intact. She handed it to Cory. “What the hell. Go for it,” she said.

The next three minutes were pure Marx Brothers, the spacecraft crawling with butt cracks, elbows and feet in every direction. Cory didn't throw the eggs, he lofted them to other riders, a cooperative egg toss rather than full-out pelting. People just laughed if the catch was bobbled and the yolk was on them. Cheers and squeals filled the whirring blur of a Hollywood pie fight.

The pie! Somehow still in one piece. The room began to slow. Her punished feet came gently back to earth.

Lila took ahold of Cory’s shoulders for balance, giving sheepish nods to her splattered co-riders. There was no stink-eye, only the come-down of exhausted laughter. "Move it, Cory. Time to scoot." They squeezed past the carny before he got a glimpse of the carnage.

“Lila, that was intense,” Cory said.

"You owe me one, kiddo.”

Maybe we can make this work, she thought.

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fictionsofriverdale-blog · 7 years

Text

Flirting with Danger - Veronica x Archie

Request: “One where Archie gets jealous because one of the members of the football team flirts with Veronica and he gets upset and confronts Veronica about it after her cheerleading practice and they get into an argument which turns a little steamy as Archie shows Veronica that she belongs to him and they get steamy in the locker room”

Warnings: SMUT, swearing

Tags: @izzy--bella004

I loved watching Archie play football, he was so strong and sure of himself, and his smile could light up the field. I shivered slightly as I leaned my shoulder against the metal fence at the side of the bleachers. I should have changed out of my vixen uniform, but I know how much Archie likes it and I wanted to get him excited on the walk home.

Cheerleading practice had ended slightly early as Cheryl had marched out of the gym, yelling something about needed Josie for “star-power”, so here I was – waiting on a guy. I rolled my eyes at myself; since when does Veronica Lodge wait on a guy? I caught Archie’s eyes as he ran past me and saw his gaze linger on my exposed legs. I smiled and winked at him before he turned his focus back on the Coach.

I heard footsteps on the grass behind me and turned to see Reggie Mantle sauntering towards me. His eyes travelled down my legs and then slowly back up to meet my own eyes. This did not elicit the same feeling that Archie’s gaze had, I immediately wanted to cover myself up, feeling exposed under his piercing eyes.

“What are you doing out here on the sidelines? Trying to catch a glimpse of me in action?” he asked with an amused smirk. He knew full well that I was here for Archie. Everyone knew that I was with Archie. I shook my head and laughed.

“I was about to ask you the same question. How come you aren’t out there running around with the rest of the goons?” I retorted with an amused smile, laughing when he held up a bandaged pinkie finger.

Just at that moment, Archie sauntered over and wrapped a possessive arm around my waist, spinning me into his sweaty chest. His thumb and forefinger came up below my chin and he planted a deep kiss on my lips. Reggie scoffed in mock-disgust and walked back toward the car park. Archie pulled away but kept his hand on my chin, gently keeping my face near to his own as he whispered, “what was that all about?”

I looked into his eyes, expecting a hint of humour or amusement, but there was something similar to anger there. I stepped back slightly and his hand dropped to my waist. “We were only talking Archie, I was just teasing him.”

“It didn’t look like nothing,” he replied in a low and steady voice, “It looked like you were flirting with my team mate. You are mine, not his, not anybody else’s.” I blinked up at him in bewilderment. I knew Archie was protective, but I had never seen this side of him before and… I kind of liked it. “I mean, I love that you came to watch my practice, and I love that you came in your cheerleading uniform, but I hate that the other guys can see you like this.”

“I’m sorry Archiekins, I didn’t mean to make you mad. I just couldn’t wait to see you and didn’t even think about changing. Honestly, I wanted you to see me in my Vixen uniform, but once I was out here, in the cold and surrounded by jocks, I felt a bit exposed..”

Archie’s expression softened slightly and he took a step toward me, wrapping his arms around me and enveloping me in a hug. He began walking me backwards towards the building, eventually moving so that I was tucked under his left arm, my right arm wrapped around his waist. His fingers stroked up and down my upper arm as he placed a kiss on the top of my head. I realised where he was steering us, and I peeked over his shoulder to discover that practice was still in full swing.

“Don’t worry,” Archie muttered, “they won’t know I’m gone” I smiled, and we walked a little faster. Archie hand came up and pushed the door wide open as we fell through it, his hands coming down to steady my waist. My own hands flew up to his hair and our lips met in a ferocious kiss, tongues dancing together.

His large hands gripped my waist as mine clasped around his neck, fingers playing with the ends of his hair there. His hands squeezed gently and I jumped as he lifted me, wrapping my legs tightly around his waist. His hands came to rest under my skirt, squeezing my ass cheeks.

“These are for my eyes only” he growled against my lips, making my legs clench involuntarily around his hips. The movement did not go unnoticed by the boy, who cocked an eyebrow at me and grinned. He spun us around so that my back thumped against a closed locker door. I gasped and Archie took the opportunity to kiss me deeply.

Now that my weight was somewhat supported by the locker, Archie brought one of his hands forward and his breath hitched as my head fell back against the locker, eyes fluttering closed.

“So fucking wet baby” he murmured as his finger began circling quickly. “Fuck” he moaned as my legs once again tightened around his waist. I was grinding myself against his hand, increasing the friction, and simultaneously rubbing myself against his growing erection. He groaned but made no move to put me down, instead he shifted his hand so that his thumb drew figure eights over my clit and his middle two fingers sank into me. My eyes flew open and met his intense gaze. He was watching my reactions and playing my body like an instrument.

My fingernails dug into his shoulders and I used the leverage to move my body, fucking myself on his fingers, moving faster and faster. My arms ached and my legs were burning, but fuck, it felt so good, and the look of pure wonder on my boyfriend’s face spurred me on.

“shi-shit, babe, fuck, I’m c-” Before I even finished my sentence, a third finger joined the first two, and they curled forward. The corners of my vision began to fill with white spots and my eyes rolled up to the ceiling.

“Look at me baby, come for me princess” he purred. And I did, gazing down on his perfect features, his eyes on mine and his lips parted as he watched me come undone around him.

I leant my forehead against his as he removed his fingers and wiped them on his football shorts. I panted slightly, trying to get my breathing under control. Archie turned, with me still wrapped around his waist, my head coming to rest on his broad shoulder, and he leant against the locker, slowly sinking to the ground and holding me against his chest, hand combing through my hair.

Suddenly, he sat up straight, his panic causing my eyes to fly open and meet his wide ones. “Practice just ended, they’re all gonna be in here in about twenty seconds!” He stood awkwardly, placing me on my feet and smoothing my skirt down for me. He grabbed my hand and pulled me through the locker room toward the internal door that led to the school corridor. Just as he slammed it shut behind us, we heard the unmistakable whooping and hollering of the Riverdale High Football team filling the locker room. That was close!

#Riverdale #Riverdale request #Riverdale fanfic #Riverdale fanfiction #Archie Andrews #Archie Andrews Smut #Riverdale Smut #Veronica Lodge #Veronica Lodge smut #Varchie #Varchie smut #Varchie fanfic #varchie fanfiction #Veronica fanfic #Veronica fanfiction #Archie Andrews fan fic

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oscalesoffeeling · 1 year

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title: 'dancing around'

rating: t+

word count: 1,504 words. one-shot.

warnings: lust, passionate kissing, implicit nudity, fade to black. nothing explicit is described.

pairing: delruk nulle/wil.huff tar.kin

summary: As Tar.kin's personal assistant, Delruk gets the honor of attending countless Imperial balls. The real honor is getting to lust after Tar.kin in the over-the-top outfits he wears to said balls, from a reasonable distance, that is. Right? Right?

notes: i (Delruk) use he/her pronouns, as always. this is supposed to be our first kiss/time together, but my s/i story doesn't have the most consistent timeline and idk if i even technically consider this 'canon' to my s/i story. anyway, it is very fun and i enjoyed writing it, so here.

Delruk grimaces as he pages through her notes: a speech tomorrow, three back to back meetings next week, and another formal ball in two months time, etc. Isn't this very ball big and grand enough to appease the higher ups for at least a year or two more? All this standing around makes her damn back ache.

Her only consolation is the eloquent, clipped chirping of her boss's voice as he chats with his fellow Imperial officers. Tar.kin's voice makes her pleasantly lightheaded and... Warm. And Delruk is not sure how to feel about that. Even the most insane, idiotic rhetoric he spits makes her head spin.

Or perhaps it's because of the deep V-neck of his long, skimpy black leather dress with those belt-like straps hanging down his shoulders, framing his heavily scarred chest and arms. Tar.kin likes to get made-up for important events like this where the Emperor makes an appearance, but his breasts are barely covered this time around and it's just a tiny bit distracting.

Delruk shifts uncomfortably, trying to cast some decidedly inappropriate thoughts from her head as Tar.kin gestures with his words, flapping his fingers and then clenching his fists.

Delruk pages through her datapad again, jotting down something stupid a senator says to Tar.kin.

Laughing cruelly, Tar.kin politely shoos the man off. His laugh rings through Delruk's ears. Oy. Talk about lightheaded...

"What's the matter, Nulle?" Tar.kin asks, snapping her out of her trance.

"Oh, sir, I, uh," he says. Her eyes dart around, just now noticing that they're now alone in this corner of the party, "I'm just. Lightheaded. Sir."

"You look faint, Nulle. Do you need a drink?"

"No, sir, I'm just achy. From standing up too long."

"Ah. Let's sit down, then," Tar.kin says, leading her over to a small couch against the wall.

After he sits, Delruk takes her place not too close, but still next to him.

As they sit in silence, Delruk follows Tar.kin's gaze to the dancefloor.

"Do you wish you would have spent the night dancing?" Tar.kin says.

"Not really, sir," Delruk says, confused.

"Why not?"

"I'm very tired, and I'm sure I'd've made a fool of myself, sir, in front of all these people. I mean, I've taken lessons, but it was so long ago, you know."

"I would've loved to see it," he says plainly, which makes Delruk's heart drop to her stomach. "What would you've done tonight if you weren't on duty, Nulle?"

"Stayed home, sir."

Tar.kin thinks this over for a moment. Delruk fiddles with the datapad in her hands.

"I believe," Tar.kin says, standing, "it's about time I tuck in for the night. Feel free to accompany me back to the ship."

"Of course, sir," Delruk says. He immediately follows after Tar.kin.

***

In her very own cabin aboard the ship, Delruk is about to undress when he remembers that he forgot to go over her notes with Tar.kin. There was something about another trip to Coruscant that needs clarification, but Delruk can't remember about what...

And Delruk can't take her mind off of Tar.kin's words. He wanted to see her dance... Something twitches and pulses inside her. He taps her foot against the ground, bending her other knee, tapping outward, farther away from herself... Closing her eyes, he crosses her arms against her chest.

What other things did he want to see her do? Oh, sir? Yes, sir. Anything you say. Delruk straightens, coughing self consciously despite being alone.

He ought to ask Tar.kin. About the notes, of course. Coruscant and all that...

He composes herself and makes her way to Tar.kin's quarters. He softly knocks on the door. It immediately slides open to reveal Tar.kin, still very much awake, still done up in his dress.

"Nulle?" he asks.

"Sir? I hope I'm not disturbing you, but I wanted to go over tonight's notes."

"Oh, of course," he says, stepping back from the doorway. "Come. Sit with me."

Tar.kin gestures at a small, circular glass table with two chairs. Delruk sits down and pulls up her notes on her datapad.

"Do you want anything to drink?" Tar.kin asks.

"No, thank you, sir."

Tar.kin sits next to her, so close Delruk can sense the faint scent of lavender and leather hanging in the air around him. His legs are peaking through the long slits of his dress, his eyes are so bright in the dim light, and oh, Maker, he's so handsome... He watches her expectantly, her face growing hot under his gaze.

"Oh, um, here," Delruk says, passing him the datapad, hoping it's not too soaked from her sweaty palms. "I wanted to double check with you about Coruscant, specifically, sir."

Tar.kin scans the screen and hms. Delruk's ears perk up.

"Very good, boy," he says. "Everything appears to be in order. You made a very useful note on senator Jhol, I see."

"Yes," Delruk mutters, shifting in her seat.

"Are you nervous, Nulle?"

"What? Um. Yes, sir," Delruk manages.

"Why now? We've done this before."

"I'm always nervous," Delruk says, her heart skipping a beat. "I'm not used to all this attention, sir. I've never been this. Close to you. Seeing you like this."

"Is this upsetting you?" Tar.kin leans closer to her. His breath is hot... Delruk shivers.

"No, sir," Delruk says. "I long for your attention."

"So you had an ulterior motive for this meeting."

"I'm sorry, sir."

"You have no need to apologize, yet, boy. What is your ulterior motive?"

"I want you," Delruk says.

"You'll have to be more specific than that. What exactly do you want me to do?" Tar.kin asks plainly, like he's expecting her to ask for a vacation or a raise.

"Sir, I don't think you understand. I want you."

Tar.kin's eyes widen.

"Ah, but that still isn't very specific, young man. Do you even know what you're asking of me?"

"Yes, sir, I," Delruk stumbles over her words a couple times. "I want you to kiss me, for a start."

Tar.kin cups her cheek in his hand. Inching closer, his lips brush against hers.

"On the mouth?" he murmurs.

"Yes, sir," Delruk rasps.

Her heart slides into her mouth as Tar.kin presses a maddeningly soft kiss on her lips. Delruk wants to run her hands through his hair, kiss him until he's gasping for breath, but he's so tender... As if on cue, he kisses her harder, pushes their chests together, and Delruk moans. Tar.kin pulls away.

“For a start,” he says. His lipstick is smeared... "May I kiss you again?"

"Yes, sir."

Wrapping his arms around her waist, Tar.kin pulls her into another dizzying kiss. He bites down on her lip, sucking it between his teeth, as if it’d bring her closer, closer; only by being inside could he be closer, and closeness is similarity is sameness is wholeness. And they longed to be whole, through filling that hole with flesh.

"Can I see you without this gorgeous dress, sir?" Delruk asks between kisses he's trailing down Tar.kin's cheek to his shoulders.

"I've been dying to get it off all night," Tar.kin drawls, rising. "Follow me."

Tar.kin leads her to his bedroom, crisp and stylish and mundane and uniform. Delruk can't take her eyes off him. The room is immaterial and nothing matters but him and his body and his heat.

Turning his back to her, Tar.kin shuts the door. And unzips his dress and it and her jaw both hit the floor. He sits on the bed and lies back and spreads his legs and sighs and and and-

***

In the warm darkness, Delruk lay still still next to him. Delruk tries very hard not to make any sudden movements or fall asleep or breathe too loudly, lest he disturb the resting form beside her, turned away from her. Lest Tar.kin wake up and make her leave.

Delruk nearly nods off a few times before slowly, carefully getting up and picking up her clothes littered along the floor.

A light flips on. "What are you doing?" Tar.kin, very much awake, asks, sitting up in bed. "Were you not asleep?" His brows are furrowed, but his voice wavers.

"I'm," Delruk pauses. He closes her eyes and says, instead, "I'm clearing the floor to dance. Do you want to dance with me?"

Tar.kin silently gets up and picks his dress off the floor.

"Usually, I do not allow my quarters to get so cluttered." He hangs the dress in his closet. "Now, as you were saying?"

"How do you want to do it?" Delruk says.

"Whichever way you wish."

Delruk interlaces one hand with his, her other hand on the small of his back. Tar.kin grips her shoulder, firm but not rough, with his free hand. They spin in slow circles, not wanting to overstep, or step on each other.

Enough. Not enough...

Tar.kin brings her further into his embrace, and his heart thrums in tandem with hers as Delruk lays her head on his chest. Sliding into each other, they dance.

#ellie rambles about stuff #he spun the stars on his fingernails (tag)#ok to rb as always.#the subtlety here. dancing around the subject. lmao.

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oscalesoffeeling · 7 months

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x. he spun the stars on his fingernails

this is a more contemporary (90s to now) mix of songs that fit my self-insert story with huffie!

remade with updated lyrics under cut <3

the ballad of mona lisa - panic! at the disco

- a lonely speaker in a conversation / her words are swimming through his ears again / there’s nothing wrong with just a taste of what you’ve paid for

she had the world - panic! at the disco

- she held the world upon a string / but she didn’t ever hold me / spun the stars on her fingernails / but it never made her happy / ‘cause she couldn’t ever have me

remember my name - mitski

- 'cause i need somebody to remember my name / after all that i can do for them is done / i need someone to remember me

when you were young - the killers

- he doesn’t look a thing like jesus / but he talks like a gentlemen / like you imagined when you were young

shadow - bearstronaut

- i’m the one you want in the palm of your hand / running down your back at every word’s end / you can let me down, put me in my place / although you’ve had enough, there’s still more i can take

i will - mitski

- i will wash your hair at night / and dry it off with care / i will see your body bare / and still i will live here

stay soft - mitski

- it’s why i’ve arrived, your sex god / here to take you where / you need to go / to where the dark remembers you

genghis khan - miike snow

- i know there’s no form / and no labels to put on / to this thing we keep / and dip into when we need

animal - neon trees

- here we go again / we’re like sick animals, we play pretend / you’re just a cannibal and i’m afraid i won’t get out alive / no, i won’t sleep tonight

one and only - timbaland, fall out boy

- i get over heels for someone, i / that i really can't deal with, deal with / i want to block her out my mind / but i really can't do it, do it / i tell myself this the last time / i'ma let her do this to me / whenever we do spend time / i realize that i can't get enough of you

casual affair - panic! at the disco

- break involuntary ties / a secret so the spies / could never find us out / stay for as long as you have time / so the mess that we’ll become / leaves something to talk about

kiss from a rose - seal

- there used to be a graying tower alone on the sea / you became the light on the dark side of me

pure love - hayley williams

- if i want pure love / must stop acting so tough / (i give a little, you give a little) / (we get a little, sentimental)

far too young to die - panic! at the disco

- well, i never really thought that you’d come tonight / while the crown hangs heavy on either side / give me one last kiss while we’re far too young to die

the last of the real ones - fall out boy

- i was just an only child of the universe / and then i found you, and then i found you / you are the sun and i am just the planets / spinning around you, spinning around you / you were too good to be true, gold plated / but what's inside you? but what's inside you? / i know this whole damn city thinks it needs you / but not as much as i do, as much as i do, yeah

resistance - muse

- will they find our hiding place / is this our last embrace / or will the walls start caving in?

fear the future - st. vincent

- when the war start anew / in our bed, in our room / i’ll come for you, come for me too

starlight - muse

- far away / this ship is taking me far away / far away from the memories / of the people who care if i live or die

deus in absentia - ghost

- the world is on fire / and you are here to stay and burn with me / a funeral pyre / and we are here to revel forever more

parachute - sean ono lennon

- 'cause if i have to die tonight / i’d rather be with you / cut the parachute before the dive

skyfall - adele

- let the sky fall / when it crumbles / we will stand tall / face it all together

the carpal tunnel of love - fall out boy

- it was ice cream headaches and sweet avalanche / when the pearls in our shells got up to dance / you call me a bad tipper of the cradle / tired yawns for fawns on hunter's lawns / we're the has-beens of husbands / sharpening the knives of young wives / take two years, and call me when you're better / take teardrops of mine, find yourself wetter

w.a.m.s. - fall out boy

- hurry, hurry / you put my head in such a flurry, flurry / what makes you so special? / what makes you so special? / i'm gonna leave you / i'm gonna teach you / how we're all alone / (how we're all alone, how we're all alone)

just one yesterday - fall out boy, foxes

- i want to teach you a lesson in the worst kind of way / still i'd trade all my tomorrows for just one yesterday / i know i'm bad news / for just one yesterday / i saved it all for you / for just one yesterday

so much (for) stardust - fall out boy

- the stars are the same as ever / i don't have the guts to keep it together / stuck in the permafrost / stuck in the permafrost / life is just a game, maybe / i'm stuck in a lonely loop, my baby

on my own - les miserables soundtrack

- without him / i feel his arms around me / and when i lose my way i close my eyes / and he has found me

trade mistakes - panic! at the disco

- i feel marooned in this body / deserted, my organs can go on without me / you can’t fly these wings / you can’t sleep in this box with me

g.i.n.a.s.f.s. - fall out boy

- i loved everything about you that hurt / so, let me see your moves, let me see your moves / lips pressed close to mine / true blue / but the prince of any failing empire knows that / everybody wants, everybody wants / to drive on through the night, if it's a drive back home

haunted by the kiss - talkfine, starkid

- my heart won’t stop beating / hoping that this kiss / will never ever become a scar / you’re in my soul / you’re tormenting me / if you’re suffering as much as i am / please, won’t you tell me

jet pack blues - fall out boy

- she's in a long black coat tonight / waiting for me in the downpour outside / she's singing "baby, come home" in a melody of tears / while the rhythm of the rain keeps time / ... / did you ever love her? do you know? / or did you never want to be alone?

fake out - fall out boy

- my mood board is just pictures of you, but i'm not sad anymore / so make no plans and none can be broken, no plans and none can be broken / but i didn't take the love when i had the chance, but i swear i'm not sad anymore / so make no plans and none can be broken, no plans and none can be broken

flu game - fall out boy

- last night i dreamt i still knew you / you / i carved out a place in this world for two / but it's empty without you / i've got all this love I've got to keep to myself / all this effort to make it look effortless / all this love I've got to keep to myself / all this effort to make it look effortless

maps - yeah yeah yeahs

- made off / don’t stray / well, my kind’s your kind / i’ll stay the same / pack up / don’t stray

sweetest goodbye - maroon 5

- where you are seems to be / as far as an eternity / outstretched arms, open hearts / and if it never ends, then when do we start?

love from the other side - fall out boy

- sending my love from the other side of the apocalypse / and i just about snapped / don't look back / every lover's got a little dagger in their hand

high - the cure

- and when i see you happy as a girl / that lives in a world of make-believe / it makes me pull my hair all out / to think i could’ve let you leave / and when i see you take the same sweet steps / you used to take, i know / i’ll keep on holding you in my arms so tight / they’ll never let you go (never let you go)

dig - incubus

- we all have a weakness / but some of ours are easy to identify / look me in the eye / and ask for forgiveness / we’ll make a pact to never speak that word again / yes, you are my friend

two slow dancers - mitski

- it would be a hundred times easier / if we were young again / but as it is / and it is / we’re just two slow dancers, last ones out

in our bedroom after the war - stars

- it’s us, yes, we’re back again / here to see you through 'til the day’s end / and if the night comes and the night will come / well at least the war is over

#ellie rambles about stuff #he spun the stars on his fingernails (tag)#music #ok to rb as always #i haven't been super active with shelf ship schtuff recently bc i've had a lot on my plate lately 😭😭😭😭#and i keep getting anxious about it every time i have free time to put towards it. so here!

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