!

[suhspiria]

this blog is now an archive. if you'd like to be followed press the <3

[suhspiria]

this blog is now an archive. if you'd like to be followed press the <3

[suhspiria]

it’s my brain fighting the urge to make a basic muse list and then also have a more in depth list available with more information 👁️

[002shot-arch]

she's really done it this time. a makeshift raft in a flooded city? it's almost like she was asking for trouble. in hindsight, maybe the mall would've been a better option, even if it was crawling with wlf. she could've persisted despite not being as stealthy as she once was. she sure as shit wouldn't be stuck in a damn arcade right now, wondering how the hell to take a probably fifty year old pac man game apart just to see if any of the pieces would work out for another raft. irony's a funny thing. a sick thing. tess has been trying to find ellie for a few days now and where the hell did her journey come to a screeching halt? in the one place she knows ellie would've loved. wiping her brow, she scoffs a half-laugh. yeah, that's some real fuckin' sweet irony.

as it turns out, the planks would prove to better than any of the parts she could scrounge up from the machines. it's not a whole lot. it's definitely not as good as the one that'd gotten her this far either. all this one has to do is get her from here to... some other abandoned storefront, and one that will hopefully lead her back to solid land. if she doesn't drown first. thank that pathetic use of a god or whatever that joel taught ellie how to swim.

the sound of glass shattering pulls tess from the woes of her thoughts, the gun at her hip immediately pulled. she gets her groundings, attempting to peak between the floorboards. at this angle she can't see anything. what she can tell is it doesn't sound like a group. no, a group would have chatter. so far she's done a pretty decent job of keeping in the shadows, but everyone's luck has to run out sooner or later, right? except— maybe hers is just starting to look up... ❝   ellie.   ❞ airs in a breathe of relief, throaty and raw and about as warm as tess can muster. of course the kid was alive. after all, she learned from the best. in a different world, tess might've considered that to be a bad thing. in a different world, they wouldn't have known each other at all though. it isn't that she doubted it but there are few things in this world she never wants to go through again and losing ellie is pretty much at the top of it. ❝   you seriously askin' me that?   ❞ she slides the gun back into her holster, crossing the rest of the distance between them until they're close enough that tess can place a hand to ellie's shoulder. ❝   i'm here to help you finish what they started.   ❞ what joel and herself started, but there's no room for words like that here. her eyes then cast to the culprit behind the smashed windows, the boat. ❝   now how the hell did you get that boat?   ❞

[suhspiria]

a part of ellie almost expects joel to emerge from behind tess; gun raised, that same ol' stupid stern look on his face that had once intimidated her as a kid.　(she shouldn't yearn for her fourteen year old self; who she was before the weight of the world fell upon her shoulders and demanded she be the cure for all of humanity)　her gun is quickly stuffed into her back pocket, an arm looping round the older woman’s waist as she blinks back what burns her eyelids and finally lets out the breath she'd been holding in.

there's no denying the relief that spreads through her at knowing the other was still alive, still here.　“ i should’ve known i'd run into you sooner or later. ”　there's a puff of air, she couldn't call it a laugh, not even a chuckle. still, it's said with a lightness and a flicker in the depth of her eyes.　“ i didn't think... i thought you might've been with tommy. ”　insides were already in ruins, an ache deeper than any wound she’s had – one that stayed burrowed in between the cracks of hollow bones. it was easier to pretend when tess was around, easier to pretend when they've never been one without the other. and maybe that’s why she’d avoided tess for the last few months, unable to properly face what’s been missing from their daily lives, who once stood between them.

“ i stole it from a bunch of wlf's... had to fuck one or two up to get it. ”　that was putting it lightly; flashes of bloodshed that make her feel uneasy. her pulse had only just begun to subside and slip back to a normal rhythm. whatever the normal rhythm was these days, with how little sleep she ran on, how hungrier she grew – both for vengeance, and a roof over her head with a warm meal on the table. she'd grown far too used to the comfort and safety inside the walls of jackson. a place to finally call home. a place that was now tarnished and plagued with the essence of a man she wasn't done with.

finally pulling away from tess, from her thoughts – ellie puts some space between them, looking at their surroundings before she’s picking up a poster on one of the tables:　!!fright nites!!　eyes scan over the glowing words covering the arcade machine and ghosts on the poster; 100 free tickets! she's not sure what it means, but it felt like a good thing, which leads to her imagining what a normal life would entail.　(one she knows wouldn't be surrounded by the people she now knows–knew)　“ i had to go right through a scar hideout to get here. this whole city's fucked. ”　discarding the poster, turning back to face tess.　“ you run into any of them? this place seems pretty quiet. ”　which usually wasn't a good thing, let alone with the luck she's been having. but there's no time to ponder on the if's or what's – not when abby was this close.

[suhspiria]

the last time i saw you, you were going to say something… and then you stopped.　　✉　　@vaeile.

words had been so close to dripping so effortlessly, ‘till maroon had spilled from crystal and began to stain the pristine tablecloth – one that had earned her a scolding from the other woman, cutting that conversation completely, her chance to finally verbalise her thoughts evaporating as quick as they’d come. it happens each and every single time, the words slowly climb up her throat, something nagging as it scratches at the sides before getting stuck completely, never able to properly confess as she swallows each letter back.　“ yeah– i’m not sure i even remember, barb. ”　she tries to shake it off, shrugging as palms slip into the front pockets of her jeans, brows pulling together as cheeks begin to burn. she's always been good at keeping secrets, (unless it came to being in the presence of one particular woman who seemed to understand and read her in a way that should make her feel mortified)　but how did one go about bringing up a topic she's tried to avoid for over a month now?　“ it ain’t that important… just, haven’t been lonely in awhile. ”　her throat begins to close up, a knot finding itself between her brows as she clears her throat and avoids barbara's gaze.　“ i mean, after the breakup 'nd all. if you catch my drift. ”

[suhspiria]

i feel very overwhelmed on here because of my following but also tumblr randomly tagging me in every single post that clogs my notifications so i’m prob gonna archive 🙃

[suhspiria]

the arcade,　　✉　　@makethiseasy.

she navigates away from the bloodshed while the rain pelts down fast and drenches her completely, adrenaline still coursing through her body as the sickness pools inside her stomach. the boat sloshes against the currents, causing her grip on the boat to tighten, the blood still freshly embedded beneath her nails as water brushes up against them, daring to wash away all her sins – if only it didn't stain her jeans, seep through the denim to her skin.

there's no looking back, not when she was this close to the aquarium now. there was only one more obstacle standing between her finally reaching abby. this is what she’s been fighting for, what she’s been seeking out for the last three days.　(what has kept her up at night for over six months now)

thoughts are interrupted when she’s faced with another roadblock, this time a building that she hopes isn't riddled with wolves or scars. she ought to be more cautious, take her time and not collide into the glass, the sound loud enough to draw anyone in as shards collect inside her boat. she grinds to a complete stop, glad to be out of the rain as eyes quickly scan her surroundings while jumping out of the boat, converse submerging beneath the water that splashes around her before being interrupted once more. this time not from herself, but the footsteps coming above that slowly cause hairs to rise on the back of ellie's neck. almost holding her beath, becoming all too aware of what moves around being more human than infected that there’s no hesitation in reaching for her gun, the weapon drawn as she gears herself up.　“ i wouldn’t do anything stupid if i were you. ”　calling out, venom weaved between each word as her jaw tightens, a lump forming in the middle of her throat that she's quickly swallowing. the slow reveal has her heart pumping once more, finger sliding towards the trigger before confusion spills across her face. she blinks once, twice – weapon slowly lowering.　“ tess? what–what are you doing here? ”

[suhspiria]

never forget the time i played t/ou2 and spent hours walking around joel’s house just to take notes of everything he owns and make my own silly headcanons

[queenshlt1-deactivated20240426]

PROM QUEENS LIVE , ON AVERAGE , FIVE YEARS LONGER THAN REGULAR PEOPLE . it's probably because they smile a lot, and smiling has been proven to ward off diseases. i intend to live much longer than that .

a private and highly selective portrayal of QUINN FABRAY from fox's GLEE. exploring themes of self - righteousness, pretty privilege, impulsive decisions, and laser - guided karma. 21+ only . triggering themes and adult content may be present.

[002shot-arch]

this is not us. "what do you know about us? about me?" i know that you are smarter than this. "really? guess what, we're shitty people, joel. it's been that way for a long time." +INDEPENDENT AND PLOT - DRIVEN PORTRAYAL OF TESS SERVOPOULOS FROM THE LAST OF US. TWENTY1+ ONLY. BY BRI.

[suhspiria]

molly has been moved to @youngtraqedy <3

[cs4a17909]

#we hear the wilderness and it hears us. an independent, highly selective and plot - driven multimuse centred around showtime's yellowjackets. BY BRI.

[suhspiria]

I'm not one of your fine, tame noblemen , Miss O'Shea . But I am free . WE are free .　　✉　　@onlyappetites.

it's molly. she wants to reiterate, sear it into every corner of his mind till he got it right; 'till he looks at her – instead there's another crack beneath her complexion, an ache so inconsolable there'd be nothing left of her but ashes and debilitated bones if she doesn't push it back down, bite her tongue and swallow back.　“ and i ain't one of your foolish little strumpets, mr. van de linde! ”　then again, molly's never been one to bite her tongue and swallow back the venom that drips as her voice booms, frame rattling as her jaw clenches.　“ free? oi', don't make me laugh now. ”　shaking her head, rolling her eyes as arms fold across her chest, the anger burning beneath the surface as she looks to him.

“ i'm struggling to see how any of this makes us free. ”

[suhspiria]

[ brush ]　sender brushes receiver's hair.　　✉　　@000warning.

it feels domestic – almost,  she's not entirely sure what it's supposed to feel like,  but she assumes right here and right now is what it should feel like.  even with the surrounding four walls,  the bolts and bars not making it easy on the imagination,  it didn't seem to matter.  not with bea,  never in the red's presence. how was it, that even now she could feel at ease? that maybe... things could–would, work out. it fills her with an uncanny feeling, one she's hardly ever had good luck with, then again, love wasn't something she'd been able to find in others, let alone partners.

it's easy to close her eyes, lean back into the presence and familiar warmth she's grown quickly accustomed to. just the two of them – if you didn't count outside of red's cell, the faint static of chatter slipping beneath the crack in the door. but the door was closed, a sure sign they wouldn't be disturbed; not unless it was dire. the red's fingers felt far too gentle submerged beneath dirty blonde hair as the pointy bristles from the brush raked through. allie can't help but let out a quiet hum of content, lids daring to flutter – so sure she could be lulled into a dream that featured nothing but red, red, red.

“what are you thinking about? you're pretty quiet back there.”　how long had they been sitting in this silence? far too comfortable letting the seconds tick by as they soak up each other. allie's sure the knots were already out of her hair, but that would mean interrupting the touch and feel of the other woman's fingers. something she'd rather cling onto for as long as red will have her.

[notmorbid]

white oleander, pt. 2.

dialogue prompts from white oleander by janet fitch.

you must be so brave. how can you stand it?

you're never where you are. you're only inside your head.

i would have shown you if you would have asked.

you're so boring, i don't even recognize you.

sometimes i just don't know what goes on in your head.

it doesn't really exist. it's an illusion.

why do you always have to tell the truth?

certain people should always be lied to.

i don't think people should fool around with things they don't believe in.

i would have thought you'd outgrown fairytales.

never drink. it just makes things worse.

do i embarrass you?

nothing lasts. don't you know that by now?

take my advice. stay away from all broken people.

tell me, baby, what is the worst thing?

stay with me, promise. don't leave.

you never know when help might come.

sometimes attention hurts more than it helps.

i don't let anyone touch me.

doesn't anything matter to you?

don't touch my stuff or i'll kill you.

we are the free birds. they want to be us.

you think i'd look good blond?

school sucks. why don't you blow it off?

the pain we cannot bear will kill us outright.

i only looked away for a moment.

just because a poet said something doesn't mean it's true, only that it sounds good.

sometimes i wish you were dead, so i would know you were safe.

i don't know how to believe my own lies.

we're not everybody. we're not even remotely like everybody.

you ever wonder why people get out of bed in the morning? why do they bother?

what could you possibly have to say to me?

we get all the bad dreams. we got to leave some for somebody else.

you're still such a child, aren't you?

it was a mistake, maybe, but not an accident.

fatherhood is a sentimental myth, like valentine's day.

don't turn over rocks if you don't want to see the pale creatures who live under them.

the past is still happening. it never stopped.

don't ask me why i left. ask me why i came back.

you're like a bomb site. you frighten me.

i wanted you to hurt the way i did.

[suhspiria]

[ listen ]　sender listens to receiver explain something they're passionate about.　　✉　　@wildlcck.

“i love dutch, ‘course i do. i love him loads.”　who are you trying to convince? the desperation dripped from every word. she already knows how the other women in camp view her — how much they loathe the sight of her, what they must mutter under their breaths each time she passes them by.

[ stupid miss o'shea, cares more for her appearance than to help out. too pungent on the tongue, too loud and too irish. too much but never enough. ]

she’ll never know the women in camp feel sorry for her more than anything else. how observant everyone was and how oblivious molly was.　“but… you know, much as i love my dutch.”　hers – not theirs, just hers. she has to believe in such, she has to believe he still looks at her with the same love he once did.　“i seen mary-beth with her…”　her mouth trails off, sight shifting from the woman beside her as she looks out to the camp in sight of miss gaskill. she's noticed dutch's wandering eye, how it latches onto the young woman – what did mary-beth have to offer that molly wasn't already? but she can't tell sadie of all people that something green kept growing inside.　“u-uh, her romance… romance novels.”　swallowing the lump in her throat, fingers beginning to pull at the fabric of her clothes as heat rises up her chest.

she envies each women in camp, watching idly as they partake in chores, gain sympathy and attention from the surrounding outlaws for just existing.　[ oh, how molly yearns for such. yearned her entire life for love and adventure. so desperate to fulfill the boring little life she once had... ]　“you can’t be telling any of them others ‘bout this, yeah? i-i… don’t need them… they don’t need any more ammo to make fun of me with.”　scoffing, rolling her eyes as a furrow catches between her brows before it softens looking towards mrs. adler.　“i like writing sometimes… writing poems.”　a shrug, despite the small smile that begins to twitch and quiver. molly swallows once more as she picks at the loose fabric of her dress. what else was there to do in camp? dutch wanted — no, he needed her [for whatever reason] to be available at any given moment.　“did you… did you want to read it maybe? i mean, i ain’t no poet.”　her accent booms, laughing at herself, shaking her head as she slowly stands, tucking hair behind her ears as she moves across wooden planks and plucks the poem she’d left lying around.　[ one she hoped dutch would find, that maybe he’d be able to understand — maybe he’d start seeing her, loving her for who she truly was. maybe then she'd be enough. ]　“it's really just a way to get things outta my head, you know? ain't much use anywhere else.”

[ladyintree]

inside her there were at that moment no voices, only a part of her she didn’t understand, a special set of eclipsed nerves... #LADYINTREE, an independent 𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀 𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐑 from 𝐘𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐓𝐒, exploring various timelines from teen through adult canon. rescued by cj (25+, she/her). est. 2021. that part didn’t see and couldn’t think, but it could feel. now it felt something in the woods.