Apr 20
@handspike - reggie
" you ever feel like you don't got control over your own life? "
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@handspike - reggie
" you ever feel like you don't got control over your own life? "
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could solve all the problems of the world, that pie. ― ( NO LONGER ACCEPTING! ) ↬ @handspike . . . from reggie .
❝ ― now you're just bein' dramatic. shakespearean. ❞ calamity's laugh mingles with the jingle of the convenience store bell that signals their arrival. she pushes the door with enough umph that it'll stay open long enough for reggie to pass through without getting hit. ❝ doesn't sound bad, though. little gas station pocket pie. ❞
her feet are screaming from within the haphazardly tied sneakers she's wearing. a night of work has generated both a ravenous hunger within her and a solid payout in her pocket ― more than enough for whatever kind of gourmet gas station meal she's desiring. reggie had met her outside the club . . . a beyond welcome surprise after hours of placating her coworkers and clients alike. she isn't quite ready to fade out of existence yet. the night is still young ! they got curbs to sit on and slurpees to drink.
calamity grabs one of the teeny tiny apple pie tastykakes and tosses it backhand in reggie's direction. then, she grabs a baked cherry for herself.
❝ i'm gonna get a taquito too. and one of those lime slushies so i can turn my tongue green. ❞ fur coat is shrugged further up her shoulders as she inspects the sizes of said slushie cups. as she grabs one to fill, she peers back over in reggie's direction. ❝ i made out like a bandit tonight. whatever you want is on moi. ❞
❝ i think if you stay, something bad will happen. i think i might hurt you. ❞ reg ❤️
INBOX PROMPTS ╱ 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑎𝑐𝑐𝑒𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔.
He wants to laugh, but he can already imagine the way confusion might twist on her face and ruin her incorruptible naivety, tragically lost to his malice and altering something between them. He wants to say no, Reggie, if you stay, I will hurt you – because it would have been the most honest he’s ever been in front of her. He wants to shed himself of his skin and unravel his thoughts for her to tangle herself in. How she might be strangled on the entrails of his cruelty, always victim to another and to herself if she abandoned her faith in a monolith shaped in the wings of Will’s guardianship. He would devour her and that guilt-stricken piety.
He’s less than honest. Will thinks even if he did manifest a certain degree of truthfulness, she wouldn’t run from him. Where would she go? Who would she go to? They shared the same self-destructive passion, didn’t they? Drowning in the pink mist of their morbid minds. He was not scared of what might happen with her or because of her. It was an inevitability he welcomed. He did not think she would like this version of his honesty. It was an outcome he had considered when he let her live that night in the forest when Trent revealed himself.
“You’re not going to hurt me, little bird.” His words are not condescending. Only fond as they always have been with her. He did not harness his cruelty against her, as it was not a weapon he had to unsheathe with her; only varnished was a terrible fondness. A darkness that felt binding and familiar. To her, to Trent – both existing somewhere in the confines of his mind. “You're a shrike and I am offering you a larder, an extended hand of kinship.” Eternally. “The prey your mind has conjured is picketed carefully on the barbs of your weariness. You will not hurt me because you have no reason to. We’re conjoined by the same prevalent cause. Your life, Reg. I am your friend.”
random starters accepting. @handspike
"be like the fountain that overflows, not like the cistern that merely contains."
@handspike, dreams are not a precise science. well ... maybe they are, jude doesn't know. he just knows that when he enters a dream, it's different every time. different scenarios, different settings ... different feelings. sometimes, he is washed in the joy of a happy memory, or a desire manifested. more often than not, it's ... horror, or sadness, something heavy that pushes down his shoulders and sits on his chest. this ... this is definitely the later. there is something here that burdens his chest, wounds it so tightly ... he can't even imagine what it feels like to live in this head. as soon as he enters, jude understands one thing: he is not welcome here.
yet, jude still makes his presence known. "hello?" he calls out.
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@handspike liked for a lyric starter / doom (empty) by palaye royale / for reggie !
"I think maybe I'm empty." The way she could so easily distance herself from her emotions, sometimes it made her feel hollow. "It is what it is, I guess. But sometimes I wonder what it'd be like if I wasn't like this." If she hadn't been pushed around and pulled apart.
His gaze drops down to the ground. He’s filthy and completely covered in dirt, dried blood and anything else he’s managed to get on himself in the Upside Down. Just the night before he hadn’t known how things might go. They’re alive. Despite their circumstances and all the haphazard dangers lurking behind every fucking corner. And a little closer to this all ending.
Billy gaze peers back up to the skyline. It’s bright and pinkish blue. A small thing he would have taken for granted months ago. Now, it’s a sign that they’ve made it another day. Something to be grateful for because not everyone had made it. Billy knew that for fucking sure. It had cost a lot to get him there to see this morning sky once more. “Yeah, it’s pretty.” ╱ @handspike
“There is no light where I come from. Only you.” Reg
INBOX PROMPTS ╱ 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑎𝑐𝑐𝑒𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔.
It has become apparent to him after some time that she has entered his bloodstream as an infestation. The proof of her existence has webbed from the veins in his wrist and spread to the deepest depths of his chest. Maybe it wasn’t love, maybe it was – It wasn’t as if that was consequential. Will didn’t think he knew the difference between that and obsession, nor would it make any difference. Both were fevers, a passion enflamed, and a soul burning. If he had to be the enormous hungry shadow that engulfed her world and made it completely devoid of light, so be it.
It satisfied him, too. He suspects she has picked up on this as well. Her lamb-appearing offering was two-sided. They’re both manipulators. But at least they can stand on even ground from one depraved soul to another.
He smiles. “You always lay it on so thick, Reggie.” It’s fond, impossibly so. He would, without a doubt, offer up the last pieces of his rotten heart for her. She could lick her chomps with him.