moonstruck

and all ended with her eyes ; hell , purgatory , paradise .

[purgatored]

# 𝙿𝚄𝚁𝙶𝙰𝚃𝙾𝚁𝙴𝙳 ; maybe the cage grows with you . / dependent blog for fromoblitushq .

elm mossbach ; biography / musings / interactions / wanted connections . charity cannon ; biography / musings / interactions / wanted connections . felicia 'flick' relf ; biography / musings / interactions / wanted connections .

[hcartcorruptcd]

Gemma leans into Flick’s warmth almost instinctively, her body relaxing against her best friend’s side. It’s a comfort she hasn’t felt in ages, a fleeting moment of familiarity amidst the chaos that has become their reality. Her chest tightens at Flick’s words—about hallucinations, cults, and only the two of them being real—and she lets out a soft, humorless laugh.

"Well, if this is a shitty joint hallucination, I’d like to have a word with whoever gave us such crap imaginations,” she murmurs, her voice catching slightly. “We couldn’t even dream up a beach or, I don’t know, a spa weekend?”

She tries for levity, but it doesn’t quite land. Her gaze drifts out the window, where the faint glint of movement makes her stomach churn. When Flick wipes at the tears Gemma didn’t even realize were threatening to fall from her eyes, her breath hitches. She closes her eyes briefly, leaning into the touch, the tenderness of it unraveling something inside her.

“This adventure sucks,” Gemma mutters after a beat, her voice thick with emotion she tries to suppress. “The stakes are too high, the monsters are too real, and... I’m not sure I’d survive this one without you.” The words come out softer than she intended, almost a whisper.

Her eyes flicker open when Flick mentions the wine, and for the first time in what feels like hours, Gemma lets out a small, genuine laugh. It’s weak, but it’s there. “Of course you brought a bottle of wine,” she says, nudging Flick back gently. The mischief in Flick’s eyes, that glimmer of rebellion and comfort all rolled into one, makes Gemma feel sixteen again, as though they’re sneaking contraband into a sleepover. “You know - this is why I love you.”

Gemma squeezes Flick’s hand, their fingers still intertwined, and lets out a long exhale. “Alright,” she says, her voice steadier now. “Pour me a glass—just a small one. And then you’re stuck holding my hand all night, deal?”

Her lips twitch into a faint smile, one that doesn’t quite reach her eyes but is genuine nonetheless. It’s enough, for now, to feel this close again, to have this moment of shared rebellion and nostalgia, even as the world outside their window feels like it’s closing in.

[purgatored]

" OKAY , BUT WE COULDN'T MAKE A HIT BOX OFFICE TRILOGY OFF OF A BEACH OR A SPA WEEKEND ." flick replies with a playful arch of her brows as she looks gemma's way . she shrugs almost lightly as she says, " if we wake up from this hell i am going straight to fucking —  a24 and cashing in on our joint trauma so we can sit on our asses for life and enjoy pina coladas on our private island ." it sounds almost like a dream truly . and it is the dream . her and gemma , never having to worry about anything . being set for life and happy . somehow the two things always seemed synonymous . but flick guesses that's simply what happens when you don't grow up with a lot . the grass is always greener and all that . the cheerfulness of her voice almost feels out of place but flick tries not to let it waver . for her sake , and for gemma's really . because maybe gemma needs it . honestly, maybe flick needs it . " hey , don't look out there ." flick gently nudges her shoulder into gemma's , swallowing dry as she cups her friend's cheek . she moves the pad of her thumb back and forth over gemma's cheekbone as she gently presses their heads together , temple to temple like conjoined twins . " look at me . there's nothing out there you need to see right now ." flick swallows then as she tries not to let the fear in gemma's voice rattle her . the breath she takes then is deep before she's turning to face gemma again with a warm smile . " and i'm not going anywhere evidentally and i'm definitely not going anywhere without you ," the words are accompanied by an arch of her brow as she tips her head gemma's way . " so — " flick fumbles for words as she shrugs . " you'll never have to survive it without me . we're a packaged deal right now ." flick tries not to think too hard about the right now of it all . because they always should've been a packaged deal , truly . flick isn't sure she could pinpoint the moment they stopped being just that . the sound of gemma's laughter is a relief . it fills flick up and eases some of the tension in her shoulders , tension she didn't even know was there . " you know me so well ." flick's tone is something playful again and it's with affectionate efficiency that she presses a chaste, firm kiss to the back of gemma's hand as she says, " and i love you back ." flick grins at gemma's agreement, brightening as she moves to get up off of the couch and toe her way over to her —  locked — suitcase . it didn't take her long to pick up on the sticky fingers around colony and she definitely wasn't feeling up to losing luxury items on top of all the other shit that's going on . it's with a quick movement that flick pulls the key out from her bra as she says, " okay , well , i don't have glasses . i'm not a magician ." flick only unzips the suitcase enough to reach in and get the bottle out . struggling a bit with the small opening she'd given herself before she's yanking the bottle out with a bright grin gemma's way, displaying the bottle triumphantly like one of those pretty assistants that she remembers from her parents' late night wheel of fortune reruns . " but we can both take sips from this beautiful bottle ." flick scrambles to lock the suitcase again before she's getting to her feet once more to plop beside gemma and take her hand again obediently . she beams at her then, eyes twinkling as she says, " and we can both drink one handed this way too ." a shrug as she hands gemma the bottle for the first sip . " it all works out ."

[hcartcorruptcd]

Ellington’s arms tightened protectively around Cherry as she clung to their shirt, her vulnerability cutting through the quiet tension in the room. They rested their chin lightly against her head, their steady presence a balm to her trembling resolve.

“Of course, it’s nice,” they murmured, their voice low and soothing. “You deserve to feel safe, Cherry. You deserve to have someone hold you when it all feels like too much.”

They felt her breath catch, her body curling closer, and their heart ached for her. Ellington didn’t press her to stop the tears she was barely holding back. Instead, they smoothed a hand over her back, a grounding rhythm meant to let her know it was okay to let go.

When she spoke of Emerson, her voice barely above a whisper, Ellington let out a soft, pained sigh. “I know,” they said, their own voice faltering with the weight of their apology. “I’m so sorry, Cherry. For Emerson, for everything you’ve been through. You should’ve never had to feel that kind of fear.”

They paused, pressing their cheek gently against her temple. “But I swear to you, I’m going to do everything I can to keep you safe. You don’t have to carry this all by yourself anymore.”

Ellington’s hand slid up to cradle the back of her head, a gesture of quiet reassurance. “Let it out,” they encouraged gently. “You’ve been so strong for so long, Cherry. You don’t have to be right now. Not with me.”

The weight of her words about the last hug she’d received lingered heavily between them, and Ellington’s grip softened, though they didn’t let her go. “You’re not alone in this,” they promised, their voice steady and earnest. “Not anymore.”

[purgatored]

DESPITE HERSELF CHERRY'S EYES ARE STINGING . she tries her best to blink passed it even as something in her swells and expands with every word out of el's mouth . when she swallows thickly she tastes the salt of oncoming tears with it . she tries to ignore the feeling in hopes it might go away . it's probably that urge that makes her huff a choked excuse for a laugh . it's a shaky thing and cherry is pretty sure she doesn't mean it but it's what comes out anyways . " you're way too fuckin' good , you know that ?" the words are said against where her cheek is still pressed to the fabric of el's shirt . she can feel the warmth of them there . can feel their heartbeat too . it's steady and present and here, and somehow that alone is comforting . cherry's brain tries to skip over what that might mean but it's harder now . like the answer is this big neon sign coming at her quick . i’m going to do everything i can to keep you safe . cherry swallows hard . " aren't you supposed to be mad at me ?" the words would be near joking if the cherry's throat wasn't so tight . but it is . and besides, cherry is pretty sure the words are true . el is supposed to be mad at her . she's pretty sure they had a right to be too . but against maybe her better judgement cherry is feeling warm . and more than a little safe . and maybe she should be fighting it a little because accepting this kind of thing feels like accepting that she might lose it . she's pretty sure she can't do that again . pretty sure she wouldn't survive it . and yet somehow she can't bring herself to pull away . god , maybe that neon sign's a pair of headlights . maybe that's what's coming at her fast . maybe she's the deer standing there lookin' at it .

[patroclusblossom]

Adrien laughs and pats Cherry back.

"Sounds fair. And thanks. So what's your type anyway?"

[purgatored]

THE QUESTION TAKES CHERRY ABACK FOR A MOMENT . her face scrunches a bit at the thought as she says, " usually pretty shit . at least by my track record ." there's a beat before she adds the disclaimer , " at least when it comes to men ." she shrugs then . " when it comes to everyone else it's pretty okay ."

[patroclusblossom]

Lucas gives them a small smile.

"Neither do I. And I'd bet my stetson Stassi and Cam won't either. But it's still something to consider."

He cleans up the desk then looks back at them.

"Want me to walk you home?"

[purgatored]

ELM CONSIDERS LUCAS' OFFER FOR A BEAT BEFORE THEY NOD . they straighten as they move towards the door with a low, " so you guys will vote ?"

[rampents]

Muz straightens slightly, unfolding his arms and stepping closer, his boots scuffing lightly against the pavement. He reaches up to adjust the strap of his bag, his movements easy and unhurried. 'You know me, Cherry, gotta do my rounds every morning.' His eyes flick toward her cigarette for a moment before meeting her gaze again, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He tilts his head, leaning just enough to feign a closer inspection of her. 'Making sure no one’s not doing some crap like ghost huntin’, yeah?'

[purgatored]

CHERRY'S BROWS ARCH THEN , HER AMUSEMENT MAKING HER EYES TWINKLE WITH SOMETHING DRY . " oh, yeah ? you on patrol ?" despite the dry words the roll of her eyes almost fond . " you collect scrap , muz . whatcha makin' rounds for ? you sign up for law enforcement when i wasn't lookin' ?" the words are without heat . after all, cherry herself was a glorified receptionist . except without really much in the way of customers, which truly kind of made it worse . she squints at him as she takes another drag, blowing smoke out as she asks, " and, for the record, someone's gotta ghost hunt ." she shrugs . " ... whole lotta ghosts around here after all ."

[horrorcitos]

Briscoe Park

[rampents]

Muz feels the words like a shiver tracing his spine, an instinctive reaction he grinds to a halt. This pit of distain gurgles inside of him for this place, those things; even when they surrender Elm out in the night like that, letting them live has to mean something more sinister than it is shred of mercy - almost scarier than finding the dead. 'Yeah,' he agrees quietly. 'It is.'

[purgatored]

ELM IS QUIET THEN . somehow just muz's acknowledgement feels like enough . their fingers trace the rip as they think over their words , as they chew them slowly before simply asking , " ... why do you think they did it ?" her eyes don't meet his with the words, still looking down at the frayed denim of that rip as she considers .

[ncwheres]

Nearly a year. That answer just about made Natalia want to die. But she pressed on. She had an agenda after all.

"About a year is a long time..." She said, her tone neutral but edged with curiosity. "You must know a lot." That was the closest she'd probably ever get to complimenting Cherry.

"Anything interesting happen in that time?" She asked, like she was talking about the weather. Her expression remained guarded but she was eager to know whatever Cherry could share.

[purgatored]

" A LOT OF PEOPLE HAVE BEEN HERE WAY LONGER THAN THAT ." the words are accompanied with an almost bored arch of cherry's brows . she flips another page of her magazine . " you met the siamese twins ?" despite herself cherry's expression twists in a wince with the words . " ... creepy as all shit truly ." but at natalia's question cherry hums almost thoughtfully . " a lot of bullshit ." she says bluntly before she's flipping another worn page of the magazine . the pages are almost splintered with the way they've been crumpled over the time that they've been here . cherry would never admit it but it is a bit of an effort to make out some of the words after all the fading . she's squinting when she says, " you just missed the fuckin' storm . lucky you ."

[mirxyildiz]

mirabelle leans her weight against the bar, her arms folded tightly across her chest, watching cherry pour her frustration — and moonshine — into her glass. her jaw tightens as cherry’s words spill out, raw and jagged. mira knows that feeling all too well; the one where the world spins out of control, where the things you thought you could count on are suddenly ripped away. she’s been there. and she’s still crawling out of that pit herself. her gaze softens when cherry insists she’s not crazy, the vehemence in her voice like a punch. mira doesn’t flinch, doesn’t waver. she’s dealt with her own ghosts — the ones that haunt in memories, in nightmares, in regrets. but this? seeing the dead in broad daylight? mira can’t claim to know what the hell it means, but she knows cherry needs someone to anchor her before she spirals further. "okay," mira says, her voice low and steady. she steps closer, leaning against the bar beside cherry, her dark eyes catching the other woman’s as if she can hold her together by sheer will. "let’s get one thing straight, i believe you." her words are firm, unshaking, but there’s an edge of vulnerability in them too. "i don’t know what you saw, but i know you saw something. and i’m not about to sit here and act like i’ve got all the answers, ‘cause trust me, i don’t." she pauses, reaching for the bottle cherry just put down, her hand brushing it before she stops herself. her fingers hover over the glass for a moment too long before she pulls back, shoving her hands into her pockets instead. a muscle in her jaw ticks. the urge is there, sharp and nagging, but she knows better. at least, she’s trying to. "but what's this about crashing a car for someone? sounds like you're carrying some kind of guilt around like it’s tattooed on your skin." her eyes flick back to cherry, searching her expression for cracks in the armor she’s wearing. "you’ve been here longer than me, i'm assuming, but i've heard enough to know this place doesn’t follow any goddamn rules. maybe it’s ghosts, or maybe it’s something else. but you’re not insane. you’re stuck in this mess like the rest of us, and if we’ve learned anything, it’s that we’re not playing by normal rules anymore." mira straightens, pulling her hands from her pockets, and nods toward the glass. "take your drink. hell, take the whole bottle if it helps. but after that? you and me? we’re gonna figure out what this is. whether that means finding out why emerson’s showing up, or how to shut her out if that’s what you need." her voice softens, losing some of its sharpness. "you don’t have to do this alone, okay? i know we’re strangers, but... hell, sometimes that makes it easier. you’ve got me, for now. and maybe that’s not much, but it’s something."

[purgatored]

MIRA SPEAKS AND THE RELIEF OF BEING RELIEVED WASHES OVER CHERRY LIKE SOMETHING PALPABLE . the weight of the wave almost surprises her . she didn't know how much she wasn't counting on it until the opposite came to fruition . after all, cherry wasn't dumb . she knew she probably wasn't the most credible person around here . in all honesty she could count on one hand the amount of people she honestly felt she could maybe rely on to believe her side of the story around here . and fuck, at this point two of them were dead . so cherry lets that relief wash over her until she swallows dry . her eyes find mira then and it's with the slightly clench of her jaw that she grunts out a low, " ... thanks ." the gratitude is quickly swallowed with another mouthful from her glass . cherry glances over to mira as her fingers touch the bottle, her brows furrowing a bit with her bewilderment as she glances to her oddly . but before she can open her big mouth about it she's blinking as mira continues . " it's not guilt . i didn't fuckin' kill her ." cherry replies with a furrow of her brows, her face screwing up for a second before she's reaching for the bottle to refill her glass . " it's fuckin' love . friendship ." cherry's jaw clenches a bit before she's shrugging stiffly and saying, " i fuckin' died i'd want someone to at least try to run over the fucker who killed me too . that's what carrying about someone is ." she knows not everyone sees things the way she does . it's been the story of her fucking life . but she figures at least this is self explanatory . this is relatable . when you pass the cemetery you honk the horn . cherry's hands scrub over her face as mira continues, a sigh on her lips as she tries to swallow passed the mix of emotions swirling in her gut . god, she fucking hates being told what to do and she fucking hates work and this sounds like both in a way that she should definitely be running from . but this is what cherry would wanna do anyways . and maybe it's work, but maybe emerson fucking deserves a bit of that after getting her fucking chest ripped open . cherry tucks her chestnut hair behind her ears with both hands before she's moving to down what's left of her glass . she swallows it as she glances to mira, her gaze half considering and half studying . " what do you even get out of this ?" the question comes with a furrow of cherry's brows , because even with the tremble of her hand around the glass suspicion is a hard habit to beat . even if her heart isn't entirely in it . her eyes flick over mira, up and down before brows arch with a curious . " just a good deed ?"

[weltenwellen]

Anne Carson, from “The Glass Essay”, Glass, Irony, and God

[lakevida]

i understand the cicada noises but out of respect for their privacy i will not be translating

[the-borgias]

Favourite character meme •  6/6 scenes: I’ll Light a Candle for You Everyday

[cameronhcwes]

YOU’RE THE WORST (2014-2019) | 4.09 - “Worldstar!”

[fromjean]

she always hated this part, especially with newcomers who didn't fully understand the circumstances they were under. they couldn't spare anything here but newcomers come straight from a world where they could have anything right at their finger tips. now they needed to accept that it wasn't like that. "don't really have use for a purse around here," she says, putting her hands on her hips, looking at flick. a second offers comes just as quick. "i like my shoes," jean stands firm. "the best i can offer you is some expired throat lozenges. how about you head over to the diner and have some tea, you'll feel better."

[purgatored]

FLICK CAN'T HELP BUT SLOUCH WITH THE DEFEAT . it's with a groan of frustration that she scrubs her face with both hands . the fact that she's not even immediately worried about her skin should truly be a sign that she's reached rock bottom . " i'll take the fucking lozenges ." flick decides frustratedly , her expression twisting even as she drops her hands . she tries to breathe and is yet again impeded, a sensation that makes her throw her head back with a frustrated, " god, this place is hell . fuck ." flick shakes her head . " this can't be real . there's gotta be a way out of this ." flick moves to pinch herself for the umpteenth time but all she gets for her efforts is a red mark marring her freckled arm .

[hcartcorruptcd]

Anastasia stood in the doorway of the motel lobby, her presence commanding as she approached the counter where Cherry was lounging. Her tailored blazer was pristine, her hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail, and her expression betrayed none of the frustration simmering just beneath the surface. She wasn’t one to let emotions cloud her composure—years spent in D.C. as an immigration lawyer had ensured that—but Cherry tested even her resolve.

"Cherry," Anastasia began, her voice measured, professional, yet carrying an unmistakable edge. She removed her glasses and tucked them into the neckline of her blouse, taking a deep breath before continuing. "We need to talk."

Her gaze locked onto Cherry’s, unwavering. "I understand that life here isn’t easy. None of us asked for this. But your actions last week…" Anastasia let the words hang, the weight of them heavy in the room. "They weren’t just reckless—they were dangerous. And not just to you."

She leaned forward slightly, her tone sharp but controlled. "Your little stunt cost this town resources we can’t afford to lose. Bandages, pain meds, saline—these things don’t magically replenish themselves, Cherry. And when we’re down the line and someone else needs them—someone whose life could be on the line—they won’t be there. All because you couldn’t think past the moment."

Anastasia folded her arms across her chest, her posture firm. "This isn’t the first time you’ve pulled something like this, and frankly, I’ve been more patient than I should have been. But let me make one thing clear: your actions have consequences. For everyone. And next time you decide to pull another one of your stunts, don’t think for a second that I won’t put you in a cell for a week. Because I will."

She straightened, her voice softening just slightly, though her words still carried the weight of her authority. "We’re all in this together, Cherry. That means you don’t just get to play by your own rules. It’s time you start thinking about the rest of us." Anastasia adjusted her blazer and waited, her eyes fixed on Cherry, unflinching and resolute.

[purgatored]

CHERRY CAN'T HELP BUT SIGH THE MOMENT ANASTASIA SAYS HER NAME . her eyes slip closed with it for a moment before she's opening them again tiredly . her head hurts bad enough that she honestly feels kinda nauseous with it . the sound of anstasia's voice probably isn't helping . she finds a spot on the magazine page and fixates on it in hopes the sensation will ease . it doesn't . not even after anastasia is seemingly done . for fuck's sake . " right, well next time don't use 'em on me then ." cherry says as she finally looks up to look anastasia's way, her shoulders rising and falling in a shrug . her expression twists a bit with her frustration . " if i'm using too much of your shit by fuckin' — " cherry's eyes roll in her irritation . " livin' and bleedin' and shit, then fucking leave me to bleed then . alright ?" cherry shakes her head decisively then, gesturing with her cigarette to say, " i don't do well with owing people shit anyways . i'll figure it the fuck out ." cherry wasn't particularly good with authority . she's well aware of it . she's hated being told what to do before she could even read . hated people infringing on freedom they had no right to . cause where the fuck did they get off ? who the fuck did they think they were ? her jaw clenches . " look ." cherry starts coolly . " nobody got hurt except for me . and nobody fucking died ." she flips the page of her magazine . " you also learned new shit cause of me, and i'd consider that a fuckin' win . so you're welcome ." she scoffs a bit as she squints at the page . " consider that my payment for the bandages and pain meds and saline ." she moves to take a long drag of her cigarette as she glances up then, cheeks hollowing with it before she's blowing out a stream of smoke and gesturing with the cig to ask, " whaddya think ? does potentially savin' a life or two in the future kind of even out the costs there ?" cherry raises both hands to gesture with them, shifting them up and down like she's weighing the scales . " potential human life ... bandages . potential human life ... saline ?" a pause as she makes a show of sighing in thought . " ... i mean, if they're able to hole up in a car with a fuckin' talisman and not get fucked up by those monsters then they might not need bandages ." she moves to take another drag then, shrugging . " y'know ." smoke billows out of cherry's lips with the word as her face scrunches . " if you really think about it ."

[hcartcorruptcd]

Sullivan froze mid-sip, realizing too late that their earlier comment had caught more ears than intended. They glanced up at Felicia, her sunny grin doing little to mask the sharpness behind her words. Great. They’d managed to insult the coffee and annoy a stunning woman in one fell swoop.

Clearing their throat, Sullivan set the mug down gently, as though handling an explosive. Their hand lifted in a small, sheepish gesture of surrender. "Ah, hell. You caught me," they said, their drawl softer now, a touch of humor laced into their words. "Didn’t mean to come off like one of those uptight food critics, promise. I just got a bad habit of talkin’ before I think. Comes with the territory of havin’ too much personality and not enough sense."

They tilted their head, studying her for a moment as if trying to gauge if there was any way to salvage the moment. "But tea? I dunno if I deserve somethin’ that nice after that slip-up." Their lips curved into a small, apologetic smile, the charm dialed down to a more earnest setting.

Leaning slightly forward, they added, "How about this? You let me take back that poor excuse for a joke, and I’ll happily drink every drop of this ‘poison.’ It’s got character, y’know? Like you. Strong, bold... and maybe a little dangerous if you don’t handle it right." Their grin tilted slightly to the playful side, a spark of warmth in their hazel eyes.

"Fair trade?" Sullivan offered, raising the mug as if proposing a toast to a truce.

[purgatored]

FLICK ALLOWS HER EYES TO NARROW SLIGHTLY AS THEY CONTINUE, BUT THE EXPRESSION IS WITHOUT HEAT . in all honesty the scrutiny is more curious than anything else, her eyes scanning over them as she shifts her weight in a way that cocks out her hip . the curve of her lips hasn't even fell yet, still lingering as she considers their proposition before ultimately tilting her head as she admits, " well, i'll be honest, i wasn't expecting you to feel this bad about it ... " and it's the truth . flick was maybe expecting a less than favourable interaction with a 'customer' and someone to have on her shit list for a week . her brows arch as she shrugs . " but hey, i'll take the compliments if you wanna butter me up ." despite the words the twinkle in flick's eye is apparent as she turns around and reaches over the counter, grabbing the pot of coffee and turning back around to meet their eyes . " and if you want to drink this whole thing just to make it up to me, i won't say no ." she taps the pot to their mug in a gentle toast as she shrugs, setting the pot down on their table so she can lean her hands on the surface of it as she arches her brows and adds, " but i also won't force you because i'll admit it is pretty shit ." despite herself her lips twitch . " i haven't had to make coffee without a kerig in years ." her brows arch . " this shit is archaic . so i'd be willing to let you take it back without the torture ."