WAY LAIN

I have been taking a break for a while and have actually been enjoying my time away. I enjoy this blog a lot as if lets me explore characters that resonate with me. I decided to delete many of my other blogs, this is not one of them. I intend to return! I’d love to stay in touch with my friends and mutuals so please feel free to add me on Dis//cord ( (screen)writing#4143 ) and feel free to message me. I have a personal blog and twitter I am happy to share if I trust you.

Holiday Heads Up!

I’m not on the dash much, and just drafting replies as they come. I got very inspired to work on a personal project and am 9.5k deep already. I am on dis//scord if you’d like to chat!

What’s a girl gotta do for caps / icons of brianna hildebrand in the exorcist. I saw this gifset and am just 100% heart eyes.

PUSHING his chair in and properly abandoning his food, he walked back into the kitchen after her. bare feet padding over the cold floor, he’d have to make a mental note to get some type of footwear. but he knew he’d never wear them. never take the TIME to wear them, let alone care enough to do anything past pushing through the cold sting on the pads of his toes. he’d already taken his medicine before finishing his omelet, and hoped that what he DID have inside his belly would take care of any eat before taking instructions.  “do you want an omelet?” his hand came down to ruffle through her hair. his good hand. the bandages and REDNESS covering his other arm wasn’t something that was up to par with hair pats yet. despite the fact he hadn’t gotten her answer yet, he didn’t seem to be waiting for one as he turned the small hotplate in the kitchenette on, positioning the pan. “grab the eggs, honey.”

“Sure!” She chimes, putting the pitcher on the counter before going back to get the egg box and puts it on the counter too. Newt laughs as he ruffles her bed head. She’s still  NICE AND WARM  from being under her covers all night, and he’d feel it when she gives him a quick and impulsive hug. “With veggies and bacon too?” Newt asks with a cheeky grin. She ducks away and gets a glass, using a step stool to do so, and goes back to pour herself some water.

his hand meets hers, unsure of her intent, before stilling over the back of her palm where she’s touching his arm. the part of him that’s professional wants to give a report on the situation with the statesmen, on the events of poppyland, on charlie’s return and death, but none of that is appropriate right now — she’s shaken, she’s injured, and currently the best thing he can do for her on a professional or personal level is to just be there and listen. the teardrops falling stiffen his jaw, hand holding hers with more strength now: he won’t say it, but he’s glad she’s being vurnerable with him right now — at least he has half the permission to help her like this.   “ you did right, lancelot. ”

an attempt to swallow the rising constricting feeling in his throat fails, and merlin looks down to where roxy can’t see his eyes: the same sentiment he’d heard many times from different people, with different tones, during the passing weeks — hearing it once would had been once too many. he doesn’t know how to react to people’s grief over him, not to concern of his superior officers: it is in his job title to be reliable and a source of support but ultimately expendable but the same code of chivalry that once forced women to give their lives to save knights. his hand falls down, raising up to remove his glasses, burning feeling behind his eyes threatening to expose him.   “ and i thought you were gone. ”   we drank in your memory.

The touch is COMFORTING. Roxy wants to be the good agent and stand stoically in front of the man who trained her. There is no protocol for this, for losing all of Kingsman. They’re lucky it was only the active agents, that analysts and technicians were spared-- but not Merlin. He’s always been at the forefront, she respects him as much (if not more) than she respected her fellow Kingsman at the table. Cares about him more. Many of the Kingsman she’s only known  THROUGH HOLOGRAMS.

“Grief is a wound that doesn’t shut so easily, even when the one--ones you’re grieving aren’t really dead.” Her voice breaks a little on the last word. The feeling had dug into her chest like a knife-- hurt worse than any physical injury she’d sustained. The traumatizing thought that she was alone, and that everyone who knew anything important about her career or her work was vaporized. Roxy, doesn’t try to stop the tears now, but her chest doesn’t heave like it had in private moments at that motel. Just quiet tears dripping down her cheeks. Tears of  ACCEPTANCE AND RELIEF.

“ there’s something wrong. ”  okay, maybe he’s simply stating the obvious, and maybe his observation is a blip when compared the grand scheme of claire dearing’s nephews being missing, but there’s no denying it.  no park alarms are going off, but suddenly he can’t spot a single asset containment officer and everything in him is tensing as if awaiting a blow.  it’s an instinct he’s learned to trust, and he knows he ought to heed it, but the issue of the missing children is more pressing. 

“ —  they can’t have gone much further than this. ” 

@waylain    /    sc.

 phasma  stood  stiffly  .        for  once  ,        she  was  glad  the  stance  was  deemed  normal  for  her        -        elsewise  ,        she  surely  would  have  looked  properly  suspicious  ,        standing  as  she  was  at  attention  and  tense  .        not  a  single  person  alive  had  seen  her  without  her  helmet  ,        and  she  did  not  wish  for  anyone  else  to  be  added  to  that  number  .        so  far  as  she  could  help  it  ,        she  had  allowed  no  one  a  glimpse  at  her  eyes  .        no  one  aboard  the  finalizer  could  tell  the  girl  what  they  looked  like  ,        and  it  was  impossible  to  see  them  through  the  black  visor  of  her  helmet  .

 it  ate  away  at  the  back  of  her  mind  .        at  the  fore  ,        she  entertained  the  notion  that  newt  had  simply  imagined  it  ,        and  did  not  know  for  certain  ,        from  some  unnerving  dream  ,        what  she  must  look  like  .        it  stung  just  thinking  about  acquiring  any  eye  wound  .

 ❝      yes  .        log  the  dream  in  your  file  .      ❞          yet  phasma  did  not  move  from  her  place  ,        and  she  did  not  move  her  gaze  from  newt  .          ❝      but  do  not  include  my  eyes  .        the  details  are  irrelevant  .        focus  on  the  monsters  .      ❞

“Okay, Yes Ma’am.” She reaches for the tablet on the table next to the bench where it recharges at night. Newt diligently thumbs her way to  A NEW DREAM LOG , and presses the audio recording. 

“It was not somewhere I recognize, because there was fire and smoke. There were metal things around, parts of ships, like the dream started in the middle of  A BATTLE. I could see Captain Phasma, and then something exploded and threw her back, it broke her helmet so she took it off and I saw that her eye was injured. Like bloody, but intact. But even though I just saw the captain, I knew the monsters were there--  THE XENOMORPHS. I knew the explosions and fire were because of the monsters. And then I felt something hit me, and I woke up.”

     ❝ DON’T DIE! ❞ HE offers unhelpfully, dodging blasterfire && still somewhat spiteful to have been dragged into this.

I was made aware, yesterday (December 4th, 2017) that there is a blog @18milesoutsucks which is for some reason IMPERSONATING ME in order to harass a handful of people, but namely @thedestrcyer / @horrorempathy, also known as Casper. 

18miles has recently (according to a friend) copied the theme I have on this blog, my multi, including stealing my banner. Whoever is behind this blog has posted photos of Casper, and revealed personal info and social media. 18miles was started on or around the 21st of November (which was when the first post was made). 

The blog @tornreceipts has my personal url and this url listed on it and yet there is only “proof” of “morgan’s harassment” from the 18miles blog. I don’t know the other person listed on this receipts blog. I would like my urls taken off this blog, because I am not 18milesoutsucks. 

This blog has also been harassing or at least mentioning @backseatdevil - @vestwings - @pcindre honestly I don’t quite understand a lot of what the person behind 18miles blog is even rambling about so excuse me tagging you, I’m merely seeking clarity.

First of all, I don’t know any of these users, I am not in the TVD fandom, nor have I ever watched the show, and neither am I in the TWD/FTWD fandom because, again, I don’t watch the shows / read the comics or books. I didn’t even know OF THEM until I was made aware of the 18milesoutsucks blogs.

Given some particular posts on the 18miles blog, Casper made this post. The imposter has been using my name, however there is no proof that 18milesoutsucks is really me, and I (my personal and multi urls) have been unfairly defamed, and I would like these posts taken down, and my name to be not dragged through the mud.

I have not been in contact with Casper / thedestrcyer since April,  and have not wanted to be in contact with her either, and told her as much. I still don’t.

I was never contacted about any of this, and again, only found out about it December 4th. Furthermore, THIS POST, is hopefully proof enough that 18milesoutsucks is not me. They state that they are from England, I am neither from the states nor England.

IT wasn’t even that he hadn’t expected her to be awake this early. he hadn’t expected her to come out so soon since hearing the sounds of her waking in the next room over. the plate in front of him and his half eaten omelet was abandoned for a moment. turning in his chair in order to look behind him at the young blonde girl, the half smile on his face was reserved for her and her alone only.  ( that little girl on LV-426. ) ( he’d never be able to forget her, despite the fact she rarely left his sight now. ) “good morning.” there was a soft tone to his voice ( was there ever not? ) as he adjusted his stance. he figured he’d have time to finish his own breakfast before seeing her, but with the change of events he figured he should stand up and fix her something. she may be VERY equipped to take care of herself, but he didn’t think he’d ever get over taking care of her. she didn’t have to take care of herself anymore.  “did you brush your teeth? got out here pretty fast.”

@waylain​ for newt!

It is early, but she hadn’t looked at the clock-- she had merely followed her bladder and gone to the washroom. She couldn’t be expected to  STAY COMFY  while having to pee. Newt had heard Hicks in the kitchen, smelled his breakfast when she’d left her little room. “G’morning.” The little girl replies when she skirts into the room.