#meddled

[unbelong-arc]

barry berkman and sally reed.     feat. @meddled.

[edithmaslow]

         a split second after feeling the point of contact, edith moves away. she hides the instinctive flinch well, trading the look of fear with one of indignation. it was the raised line down the hollow of her cheek, a parting gift from the man of the cloth (& blade) some time ago. green eyes flash angrily, her small form tensing into some readied stance. “ don’t fuckin’ touch me -- don’t do that. do not do that. ” it wouldn’t be inaccurate to compare her to a concerned alley cat, using the fight in her to hide the feeling of intrusion & surprise. she doesn’t even care how much taller or tougher this guy is.

           “ just don’t. ”

@meddled​.  /  x.

[dicodwell]

in raymond’s defence, he never claimed to be smart.  an adult man with a sheet draped over him would be an odd enough sight to see in october, but it’s summer - and while the stares do not bother him much, he’s aware that he should probably move from where he’s stood, hands on his hips and watching the empty space as the sun rises.  he turns, only to see someone else, and he pulls the sheet away, messy hair even more ruffled. 

“ hey there !  this looks weird but i was just... trying to -- y’know. summon a ghost. ... it didn’t work. ”

@meddled​ liked the underused muse sc.

[sunpathos]

@meddled​​​    asked    ❝  &    then    there    were    none.  ❞ from    antonin   to   bellatrix.    /    ready   or   not    sentence   starters.

𝗍𝗁𝖾    𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾    𝖺𝗇𝖽    𝗍𝗁𝖾    𝗌𝗎𝖻𝗌𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗇𝗍    𝖼𝖺𝖼𝗄𝗅𝖾    𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗌    𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗒.    you    are    standing    in    the    middle    of    what    was    the    battle    field.    death    eaters    and    other    ministry    workers.    you    don’t    even    remember    what    was    the    point    of    this    raid,    not    anymore.    no,    no,    they    have    distracted    you    with    violence    and    a    promised    fight    that    will    leave    you    completely    out    of    breath.    this    is    what    they    have    given    you.    and    you    are    thankful.    if    it    weren’t    for    them,    you’d    lose    practice    completely,    become    far    too    comfortable    in    your    own    skin.    you’d    be    useless    to    the    dark    lord,    and    that    is    not    something    that    you    can    afford.    you    do    not    want    that    to    happen.    you    are    thankful    for    him,    for    this    moment    in    battle    but    you    are    done.    you    want    to    go    either    go    back    home    or    just    get    whatever    you    were    coming    here    for.    if    you    are    able    to    remember,    of    course.    you    raise    your    wand    now,    knowingly    that    this    might    well    be    one    of    the    last    time    that    you    raise    your    wand.    you    are    watching    him    how    he    moves,    how    he    moves    around    his    own    friends.    or    well,    his    own    coworkers.    that    is    a    better,    at    least    for    your    brain.    ❝    and    then    there    were    none.    well,    besides    us    two.    ❞    you    pause,    looking    at    him    directly    now,    ❝    or    is    this    your    way    of    saying    that    you    are    letting    me    go?    ❞    you    can    feel    your    cackle    building    in    the    back    of    your    throat.    ❝    because    i    am    not    sure    if    i    can    let    you    go,    pretty    boy.    ❞

[shoreearchive]

@meddled​ // s.c.

             ❛ i know what an analogy is! ... it’s like a thought, with another thoughts hat on. ❜

[nostlgic]

‘your kids are amazing,’ honey’s expression is soft as she watches amanda and oliver run around, screaming and smiling. honey has always had the softest spot for children, has always wanted some of her own ( though she still had a few years before that might happen ). dreamy eyes move up to phillip, the woman almost in a happy daze as her own grim grows. ‘now, if only you’d be a little less grumpy about everything. this could be the perfect afternoon,’     @meddled​.

[nightshadc]

@meddled​​​ 𝙻𝙴𝙵𝚃 𝙰 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙵𝙴𝚂𝚂𝙸𝙾𝙽 : ' you’re a sick fuck.  ’ / from jd

❝             𝑶𝒉,   𝒎𝒆 ?   I’m   the   𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊   𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 ?             ❞   Alice   laughs   as   she   drops   the   spray   paint   can   down   onto   the   ground,   listening   to   it   𝚌𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚔   and   𝒄𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒌   against   the   pavement   for   a   few   seconds   before   the   sound   suddenly   stops.   The   dirty   brick   wall   in   front   of   them   had   a   less   than   pure,   𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓   𝒗𝒖𝒍𝒈𝒂𝒓   statement   written   on   it   in   regards   to   one   of   the   cops   in   town.   More   specifically,   the   cop   who’d   gotten   Alice   in   trouble   the   night   before,   and   what   kind   of   cereal   they   ate   in   the   morning.

❝             Didn’t   you   just   teach   me   earlier   how   to   put   out   a   𝒄𝒊𝒈𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆   on   my   tongue?             ❞   She   asked   before   pointing   to   her   mouth   and   sticking   out   her   tongue   for   him   to   see   the   little   black   mark   at   the   center   of   her   tongue   where   she’d   put   the   𝑐𝑜𝑓𝑓𝑖𝑛   𝑛𝑎𝑖𝑙   out.

* 𝚂𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙿 𝙾𝙱𝙹𝙴𝙲𝚃𝚂 𝚂𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂 , 𝙰𝙻𝚆𝙰𝚈𝚂 𝙰𝙲𝙲𝙴𝙿𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶.

[dirtymercy]

@meddled SENT : I suppose it’s because I lack conviction. You seem to have it in spades. / from jane porter for apollo / EVER AFTER (1998)

   "Do I?” he mused with a pleasant little smile, his brows raised to match the question. It was odd the things he found amusing, mostly because he could find most anything amusing. His mother said he was born smiling, and while that was probably not literally true ( and he wasn’t dumb enough to think it was ), he did enjoy that description of himself, because it was exactly how he liked to be. Smiling, cheerful. There was far too much sinister and selfish in the world, and he felt he should not contribute to any of that. His little brother ( very well, they were all little to him, Apollo being the eldest ) did enough of that for the entire family, and so he continued on his merry way without much care. 

   It was only made odder because of who he was. A baron, yes, first born son of an earl, that too. Yet he didn’t act like it. He barely acted like a member of the noble class at all, what with the way he skated through events without ever finding a reason to be stern or even hold a serious conversation for more than a short moment. Many would have said he lacked the conviction of his birth, his blood, but he was not irresponsible he just ... Preferred to take a different approach. A route his father himself took. 

   “Miss Porter,” he said, putting his hands together in a steeple and pointing the tips of his fingers towards her. His mouth formed a grin all while he spoke, and his eyes were lit with a congeniality that he truly had in spades. “While that is passably kind of you to say about me, it does you little credit. And I think that’s a wretched thing.”