summer bishil is a goddess and i only exist to worship her
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summer bishil is a goddess and i only exist to worship her

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āBelieve what you want.āĀ Tobias Kelly has a way of speaking that makes it feel like youāre losing your mind, a way that creates doubt where there should have been none. A gift to him, but a curse to everyone that is forced to deal with him, no doubt. Broad shoulders shrug, as if it makes no difference to the hacker, before sigh is forced from lips.Ā āBut donāt come crying to me when youāre wrong, thatās all Iām saying.ā @damnaticnā
wrrgodā:
life always had a funny way of throwing things back in his face when heād least expect it ā maybe with that knowledge, he shouldāve known something like this would have happened. at the very least, it shouldāve been a possibility, even if it would be one heād throw to the back of his mind and pretend never happened. itās not that he didnāt want to see her; far from it. every day theyād spent apart heād committed the audacity of missing her, and heād thought of this moment more times than he could ever count. actually being here, though? finding her at his parentsā gravesite? it almost felt like an out of body experience. he hadnāt visited in years. as he stood there, a hand inside his pocket while the other held tightly onto the bouquet heād brought, he couldnāt help but notice that she seemed way more familiar with the place than he did. it was a wonder he hadnāt dropped the flowers from the mere shock running through his being, the myriad of emotions that hit him all at once upon not only seeing her, but seeing her here. it doesnāt help that sheās humming that all too comforting song. clearing his throat, he pushes through and finds in himself the courage to step forward. ā she wouldāve been happy ā seeing you remember it so well. ā what a great opening. what the hell else is he supposed to say? what can he say without exposing himself way too quickly? heās not sure heās capable of anything else, but a weak whisper of her name; like a beacon calling out to her after so long. ā maeson ⦠ā
Shock was a poignant feeling. She wasnāt sure if it was because it seemed her constant request for him to call off his ghost, to stop haunting the halls of the only home sheād ever had in them, in him, or if it was because that voice seemed like it walked right out of a dream. Maeson had them more often than she would have ever admitted to, no confessional worth her pride, to cop to the fact that all her happy endings had once been tied to his name. A deep breath is taken, and for a second she contemplates just not turning around, not humoring the whole thing - walking away like none of it never happened. A glitch in the matrix, but one with teeth, that would come back to rip her apart later, when she was alone with her own thoughts. Sigh was even deeper, head shook.Ā āDonāt.ā Itās not a request, she doesnāt have to ask him for shit - after all, sheād asked him not to leave her, and that didnāt exactly work out. It was a command, a hand reaching up to casually pull hair back from her face before legs unfolded, the urge to run resounding loud and clear as it rattled her very bones.Ā āI was here for them, not you.āĀ Feeling the need to make that clear, before getting to her feet, dusting off imaginary dirt from knees.Ā
āYou know...āĀ He starts in that tone that practically announces intention to be an absolute....asshole.Ā āItās not my fault that your tinder account was somehow hacked, you act as if I have the time...ā Once again, heās practically telling on himself by the way that laughter threatens to spill over.Ā āTo keep up with the sad state of your dating life, V.āĀ @discstersā
āi wasnāt expecting you yet.ā he was very obviously lying through his teeth, but there was no real surprise there. temptation was a motherfucker, and he definitely encouraged her to walk right into it at every turn. this explained why shirt still hadnāt even been picked, let alone pulled on, and sweatpants slung low on hips, dangerously almost - as he leaned over the bed to pull the sheets in the right direction.Ā āarenāt you usually fucking late or something? you know, if you were a gentleman, youād look the other way instead of oogling me.ā @wrrgodā

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the benefit to his lifestyle was that he very rarely had to want for anything, because with a click of a button his bank account would be padded with a few unearned zeros. this explained why he turned, with two almost identical shirts, both boasting a price tag most wouldnāt dream up, before nodding to either one, in turn.Ā āimportant question, which one? iām judging the answer.ā @melancholaesā
the texas heat wasnāt kind to the notion that someone under federal employment needed to be presentable. today was a rare day he decided to entertain that dress code, a look that suited darkened features almost to spite the way his beard was grown out, and hair was getting entirely too long to be regulation. thankfully, heād escaped the military regulation on that one, and approached the bar as strong hand was pulled up to loosen the tie around his collar, throat clearing.Ā āyou know...āĀ he mentions, matter of fact to tone that makes it possible for the other to hear the predatorās grin in his tone before ever seeing it.Ā āwhen i gave you my card, i could have sworn i said it was for business purposes and yet here i am.āĀ he makes a point of looking around, as if to say where is the fire, without actually saying the words. @ridereblogsā
CHRIS HEMSWORTH in EXTRACTION
They say you always find your way home when you need to, and there is no real surprise that, that same desire has led her here. The story is always the same, the broken record of her heart break given a stage that sheās left to take care of. She owes them, after all. At first, itās on bended knees, clearing off the dirt and debris from passing storms, and eventually, Maeson starts the familiar humming of a tune that she wouldnāt have known if it werenāt for his mother. A family heirloom, for somewhere she didnāt belong, but desperately wanted to. His motherās favorite song, passed down to what should have been their daughter by desire or maybe just a more wayward want. This time, she doesnāt even huff a sigh as she goes, not allowing place for his memory to catch her off guard, and how wrong sheās about to be. As a matter of fact, she doesnāt even look up when he approaches, legs folding under one another as she comes to sit in front of the gravestone that is proudly labeled with the womanās name. For once, sheās not begging to call off his ghost, asking to be protected from the waves of emotions that always try to drown her at the mere mention of his name. A deep breath is taken, finishing the song as throat clears. @wrrgodā
discstersā:
Ā šššššš'š ššššš šššĀ a sensitive spot , causing her to clench her jaw & fists . she was mad . not at her president directly , but just at everyone in general . a deep , frustrated sigh left her lips , eyes focused on the glass in her hands so she didnāāt have to face the emotions of the other woman . words were already enough . ā come on , maeson , drop it . you all know me , better than everyone else , better than my family . i always fuck up . iām always the one that gets into trouble too quick , that throws the first punch , that has some serious anger issues . iād even have doubted myself . infact , i did at first . hell , if that diablo bitch wouldnāt strangely be back by now and confessed that it wasnāt neither a diablo or reaper , iād have thought till this second that i maybe was so fuckinā high or wasted that i could have done it . because we both know i could . ā the more words rolled over her tongue , the louder her voice got which already caused some unwanted attention . quickly she angrily glared at the people that thought itād be funny to pry into other peopleās business , before she set her focus on the president again . ā iām glad you want to be here for me , help me ⦠donāt get me wrong about that . ā now , the words were barely a whisper & for once she managed to look into the other brunetteās eyes again . ā but now i know i didnāt do it , for sure and hell , you canāt believe how happy i was when they cleared my name . when my face didnāt show up anymore on every second television . but someone tried to frame me & i really donāt know who to trust . and i really donāt think anything will help with that right now . ā after she finally had finished talking , she instantly downed the next glass , surely needing more of this if this talk continued this way .
Listening to her became increasingly more difficult as she had to swallow the urge to slap the audacity straight from her face. The raised voice, the way she seemed to think she was really making a point, but it was all quite see through in a way. Big, bad Victoria, playing the part she wanted the world to see rather than the damage that was underneath. Maeson knew it all too well, defense and deflection were easier than whatever self reflection people seemed to have bought and sold these days. It was her understanding of this that probably resulted in the simple flex of fingers on the bar top, rather than action that would have really given their audience something to watch. That same hand smoothed across it, an eerie calm settling in her bones before dark eyes flickered. āTalk to me like you appreciate that then, or at the very least, talk to me like you respect me.ā She turned and held the gaze of the other for a moment, an intensity passing by that commanded a certain level of seriousness. āBecause if you were anyone else..ā She doesnāt need to finish the sentence, simply shrugs her shoulders, but the mystery doesnāt live and breath, it doesnāt take root. Itās very obvious what she means, and exactly how she meant it. āHave you killed someone before?ā She asks as a follow up question, making it seem simple, as if sheās asking if the other girl likes red or white wine instead of taking lives. For her, it is that simple, but thatās because she was certain her father had raised a monster instead of a little girl. āYouāre messy, and emotional, and you act recklessly, but none of that makes you a killer, so donāt sit here and tell me what I did or didnāt believe. I believed in you.ā Now she points a finger. āAnd I always will, even on the days you donāt. So trust me, donāt trust me, it doesnāt matter. Iām going to be here, weāre going to figure this shit out once and for all.ā

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melancholaesā:
he understands her point in telling him to go home, itās not the clubhouse. his name isnāt etched into the welcome mat anymore for now. he accepts it, reluctantly, but he knew there would be consequences. the blow back wasnāt going to be easy, and it was going to be like the kick back from a smoking gun. but that gun was his own damn fists. a run with leo would end fantastically. a sigh rolls through his shoulders and he leans back. thatĀ he should have seen coming. he wondered what leonardoās reaction was, if he argued about it.Ā ā alright.Ā ā is all he says, nodding despite his gaze still be averted from the president.Ā ā no questions.Ā ā he agreed simply.Ā ā that all?Ā ā
A curt nod was all the further effort sheād waste on this entire thing. Looking at him for too long dragged up too many emotions. Some of them were almost close to understanding, while others were flashbacks, pieces of memories where sheād seen other members die for less than his current list of offenses. āThatās all.ā It was tempting to dismiss him physically, to wave her hand to be rid of him, but she didnāt. Instead, curve of hip found counter, and arms crossed over her chest as if to say sheād wait to physically see him leave.
erraticismsā:
it wasnāt uncommon for cassie to roam around at night. in fact, she thrived in the dead of the night. it was very rare for her to function through daylight hours. sometimes she even liked to pretend that she was a vampire ā a childish thing, yet she still did so. it was the sound of jazz flowing from the door and the light that pooled out that grabbed her attention. before she knew it she would stood in the door way, head tilted in curiosity.Ā cassieās shoulders rose and fell with his question.Ā ājust curious⦠donāt hear many people listening to jazz around here.ā
Jazz had been his motherās soft spot, even when his father had ran even further into his own delusions. Sheād insisted on humming the tunes from the old record player, the same one that sat on the desk behind him now. He lifted his head up, brighter eyes dancing across her form, a simple once over to assess whatever threat he assumed there may have been, before a simple shrug. āI guess you could say itās an old soul thing, are you a fan?ā Questioned, as head dipped back down, eyes running over the sleek steel of the weapon he was cleaning.
discstersā:
Ā Ā Ā Ā ššššš šš ššš . the overwhelming feeling of all the memories she had shared with him , crashing down on her once her old nickname had dropped into the thin air . a name only he used , a name that instantly brought her back to the times where everything seemed to be better ā and yet , worse at the same time . ā please donāt⦠donāt call me that. ā after finishing her sentence , she harshly bit down on her lower lip , which was trembling , hands clenched together in a fist with fingernails nearly digging into her skin . she couldnāt properly process what was happening in this very moment as everything seemed just too much & she felt helpless . the feeling of not knowing what to do when you were overwhelmed by emotions , emotions that she had tried to bury so incredibly deep over the past few years , was like a nightmare . a nightmare you couldnāt wake up from . with a frustrated anger , she now dug her fingernails into her hair , messing it up , before placing her hands in front of her face . she didnāt want him to see her like this , like this messed up person she had been for the past two months , plagued by loneliness and guilt . and instantly seeing him , on her first day back , was simply too much for her . but today isnāt about you , she kept reminding herself over and over again . for what seemed like eternity , but only where a few seconds , she turned around , facing the view she used to love so much about their secret spot & turning her back on him . a view so beautiful that it could take oneās breath away since you were able to see the city lights from far away . this was a place where , back in the day at least , she could simply always run too when she had too much . finally , the reaper turned around again & managed to draw her ocean blue eyes onto him . ā itās not about you ā , she now whispered to herself , not able for him to hear & closed her eyes while taking an extremely long , deep breath , before she finally had the guts to decrease the distance between them , begging that he wouldnāt push her away . moments after , her shaking hand extremely carefully moved forward , gently touching his own , and the mere feeling of his touch made her took another deep breath . it hurt so much , but she wanted to be here for him . she knew that this probably was an incredibly huge mistake , but now it was too late anyway . tender eyes , filled with nothing but sadness , locked onto his , an eyebrow raised in the air as if she was asking for permission if this was okay . but before she could wait for a reply , she blurted out words sheād probably regret in the next second . ā they are still here , you know . always watching over you . especially on this day . & if you want to turn around , fine , but iām not leaving you . not today . ā
He scoffed openly at the request to not use a name that still held so much emotion that it was a wonder it didnāt make his voice shake. It was impressive heād learned to compartmentalize to that great an effort, considering his history was so tangled with hers that it was hard to tell where she ended and where he began. His own bright blues danced over her, having done away with the need to avoid looking. Perhaps he was comforted by his own torture, protecting their memories with mountains of mutual hurt, instead of letting them go all together. Looking at her told him a thousand things he didnāt want to know. Monroe St Thomas still knew her better than he knew himself, on any given day. It didnāt matter that today was about him, when concerns easily bubbled in his chest. It was what made him ache, what woke him up in the middle of the night. It was nightmares of their parting, waking up to their truth - the fact that never again would he be able to have her as he once had. It was like ripping the framework from the foundation and then demanding the house still stand. When she reached out, he shook his head before hand skipped hers. Instead, feet fell forward, arms wrapping around smaller frame to pull her in. He wasnāt sure if he needed it or she did, but it was there. Coming home felt like this, he was sure. Monroe probably held her too tight in the silent,chin resting on the top of her head, breathing in her memory. āJust shut up.ā He managed, eyes closed, and sigh that followed was hard to place, somewhere between wistful and contented.Ā
melancholaesā:
āĀ āĀ you got me there. i definitely donāt get behind no one. i come first. āĀ the says and itās not lost on him the double entendre to his words. a smirk coats his lips and he winks at the blonde, keeping his gaze locked with his ever over the glass.Ā ā well i doubt itās that simple, nothing easy is ever good, obviously.Ā āĀ he waves a hand then leans back bit.Ā ā sā why iām not totally giving into you just yet, yāknow? gotta make it worth it.Ā ā he says this like he would turn down the given opportunity.Ā
The statement is a bold one, one that is equally as full of expectation and innuendo as his own had been. It causes a rouge wonder to how many times a day Ches repeats the same pattern, the same dance, before it gets tiring. Regardless, he cracks an even wider grin, all boyish and suggestion, paired perfectly with darker laughter. āYouāll come more than once if youāre lucky.ā He muses casually before switching the subjects. āPlease, I could suggest the bathroom right now and youād be there with bells on.ā He calls the bluff before taking another sip. āBut, donāt misjudge the simple things. They are worth it, sometimes.ā
discstersā:
Ā Ā Ā Ā ā šš ? ā , she gasped teasingly , hand placed on her heart . ā and soft ? i donāt think that fits in my vocabular . that just doesnāt fit together . thatās definitely not me getting soft . letās just call it an eye for an eye . ā still with the grin tugging at the corner of her lips , she stepped into briaās apartment , already knowing it like a second home as in the past two months , she had spend more time here than sheād like to admit . ā just like lightweight also doesnāt fit ā, she quickly added after her last statement , before she walked into the kitchen to grab two glasses out of the cupboard for vodka & didnāt waste another second before she had poured the alcohol . ā hereās to being able to trust you ā, she winked over to the other female before handing her the glass , and then sat down on the kitchen chair , eyes not once leaving the petite figure of the other while she , at first , carefully nipped at her own glass . ā tell me ā what did i miss ? we didnāt have much time to chat up on the townās gossip when i was here . or more importantly , how have you been doing ? ā
āOh come on, back from the dead? I can only assume zombies have no tolerance for alcohol.ā She grins playfully, itās easier to jest between the two of them rather than dwell on appreciation that has always been there in one way or another. Itās better silent, better hidden behind actions than stumbled over with words. Bria wasnāt quite sure when sheād made the decision, when she had decided that Camilla was one of the good things in her life, but it was a decision that hasnāt disappointed. She took the glass, raising it silently before agreeing. āHear hear, I guess I do trust this bitch.ā A nod of agreement before the vodka tossed back, a more than healthy swig taken as she pushes herself up on the counter opposite the chair the ex president takes. āYou say that as if I have enough other friends to actually hear the gossip.ā She scoffs, eyes rolling before leaning back against the cupboards. āSame old, same old, unless of course youād like to hear about the slight run in I may have had the other week, or about my version of a really fucked up happy ending.ā Bria shook her head, cringing as she recalled her own wrongdoing, but if there was gossip - the windswept story of her and Theo would certainly count toward that pot.

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erraticismsā:
a bar was always a good place to start when when one was trying to cure a night of boredom. or it was to cassie ā she could always count on there being at least one person in there that would put up with her ramblings orĀ some kind of interesting event. and if there wasnāt? well then cassie would cause one. but for once this time, someone had approached her.Ā āi have a feeling youāre only putting out this bet because you know you can win ā but go on then, iāll bite. either way i get to drink so sounds good to me.ā
Mateo needed the distraction, and if that distraction happened to help him get a little but closer to the information he needed? Well, that was purely coincidence. Whatever the reason, that didnāt matter, because her sage accusation caused an easy grin on his part. Laughter filtered through, head even shaking to play into it all. āTruth he told.ā He leans in as if they are about to exchange a secret. āI, too, needed the excuse not to drink alone.ā Grin is flashed, before heās picking up the dart to toss it almost aimlessly toward the board.
melancholaesā:
itās dangerousĀ ā his heart feels fullĀ and his chest tight at this scene before him. watching the young girl having seemingly the time of her life putting make up on mateo, and him not only letting her but playing along with her make believe ā¦Ā Ā ā those are definitely your colours.Ā ā he says, interrupting his own thoughts before he could let them stray any longer. his smile is wide enough to nearly touch his ears and, when their eyes meet, he moves to sit with him.Ā Ā ā oh, clearly you.Ā ā he nods, amusement clear on his face.Ā ā i think youāve got a future as a make up stylist, grace. or an artist.Ā ā he says as his attention turns to his niece. he canāt help but laugh as she does, his compliment brightening her expression.Ā Ā ā so is he your new favourite, or is it still me, kiddo?Ā āĀ lucas asks her with a tilt of his head. grace drawls out a long hmĀ before pointing at mateo, and beginning to giggle furiously when lucasā jaw drops with feigned offense and shock.
What it is, is, unfair. Mateo is playing a game he absolutely cannot win. There is no way to balance the delicate sweetness of the little girl heās already allowed himself to fall for. Heād been wrapped around her little finger from the first day Lucas had introduced them. Lucas was another poignant point in that, taking them as they should be: a package deal. He found himself entirely too wrapped up in the beauty of the other man, in the way that his smile seemed to light up the dark. The thought of the other shoe dropping, the truth shining through, is pushed away. Instead, he focuses on the compliment, adding an imaginary hair flip. āOh absolutely, the little lady.ā He pauses to give proper attention to the girl, poking a finger at her nose before laughing. āWould never steer me wrong.ā There is an enthusiastic nod when its suggested she has a future in art, and laughter at the clear choice to be made. Scooping her up, he holds her up in the air for a moment, only furthering the giggles before a dramatic kiss to the forehead. āSee, she has impeccable taste.ā He announces, laughing still, before turning back to Lucas. āDo you?ā Itās a selfish question, but he always wants to hear the answer.