wcrlds

[wcrlds]

alright so!   i had a lot of fun playing with more solo blogs this year, definetly might bring back some next year if i have the time, but for now, i think, for my sanity and also so i can focus on a variety of muses that i’ve been thinking about, i’m going to fold @lcgends, @cptnpike, @vcla, @starstcff-a and @wcrlds into a smaller multimuse.  i’m stealing delenn’s url for the multi cause it’s really good.   so yeah!   if you want to keep interacting with me, please follow @starstcff!   i’ll be moving over most threads !!    thank you all so much for the lovely time here, hope to see you on the next blog, if not…   let’s be honest, i’ll be back.

[wcrlds]

DERRY GIRLS SERIES ONE sentence meme. feel free to change context/pronouns/etc as necessary. 

Sometimes, all I really want is to be left alone.

Is that my diary?

I’ll find some dirt on you yet. I’ve got people working on it.

I’m not a clone! I should be allowed to express my individuality.

Well, I’m not being an individual on my own!

If I say it’s the law, it’s the law, smart-o.

But Murder, She Wrote is on tonight. You never miss Murder, She Wrote.

Why’s he making that funny noise?

What’s happening, exactly?

Listen, I think there’s been a wee bit of a misunderstanding.

I’m willing to admit it, even if nobody else will, because I’m a beacon of truth.

“We’re going to beat you up,” but, like, in a jokey way.

Well, the thing is, that’s not actually funny, is it? 

Why are you reading between the lines?

You’ve never even kissed a boy before. You practise on your pillow sometimes, but you don’t think that’s the same.

The reading of the diary was bad enough, I could do without the quoting it from memory!

Look, whatever happens in there, we have to stick together, OK? We have to back each other up.

Well, I think it’s safe to say we all just lost a bit of respect for you there.

What part of me not giving a flying fuck are you struggling with, exactly?

I’m sorry you had to hear that.

You are a fucking embarrassment. 

You were “like” a thief in the night?! You actually were a thief in the night.

If she finds out about this, she will kill you.

I just think it might be time I moved on friendship-wise.

It’s so sad, it really is, it is so, so sad, but at the same time, you know, what’s done is done, so let’s crack on.

But it’s freaky! Don’t you think it’s so freaky?

I’m not gonna bother with any “never sin again” material, ’cos let’s face it, we’ve been there before.

I’ve had a lot of caffeine.

This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

Let’s just get it over with and never, ever speak of it again.

Could you put it another way? I didn’t understand a word of that.

What would I have to be winking about? 

It was only a friendly wink.

There is no such thing as a friendly wink!

I really think she’s playing some sort of twisted psychological mind game here.

Aye, that is a bit fucked up, in fairness.

Have you got a Union Jack splashed across your tits?

Is the point, “I’d like to get beaten up”?

Genuine question — why can’t you just be fucking normal?

She doesn’t love you. She’s just using you.

I should be up to something, but I can’t find the person I’m supposed to be up to it with, because this place is like a fucking maze.

It has eight bedrooms and a chocolate fountain.

She is hot and you’re not dead. Yet.

Before you know it, you’ll be faking your own death and assuming a new identity.

We’re placing ourselves in grave danger, which I’m not buzzing about, to be honest.

I am psychic. I did a course. I got a certificate.

So what happened back there was totally fine, but this — this is worth having a panic attack about?

That’d be fabby-dabby-do.

You’re gonna have to never say that sentence again.

There’s bound to be something in here we can steal.

A real life lesbian walks among us.

You seriously need to chill the fuck out.

Do you not think there’s an awful lot of lesbians about nowadays? 

You can’t move for lesbians. It’s wall-to-wall lesbians out there.

[wcrlds]

for clarification, i’m probably going to be mostly writing peter and felicia (and maybe daisy) cause i’m still having a lot of fun writing them, but the other muses i’m mostly just ‘eh’ right now and i don’t wish to focus on them.

[wcrlds]

i kind of want to rearrange my life / what i’m writing, so i’m gonna put this blog and @cptnpike on semi-hiatus.    not for lack of muse, but more like i want to focus on other things for a while and i’m feeling these two blogs are more of a drain right now than true joy.

mostly i’m on @nursc and @lcgends.   

@vcla  and   @starstcff  remain my quiet blogs that can be awakened at any point, as they are mostly silent for smaller fandoms and me not having the time to reach out to a lot of people.

[wcrlds]

Nathan Filer, Where the Moon Isn’t

[wcrlds]

doctordonovan​:

 his apologies aren’t hollow:    aren’t lacking in sentiment or even foundation.    of all the things maeve has learnt since she first came onto station,    she has never once found herself doubting his nature   -    always easily labelling section 31’s sentiments as either simple blind wishing or unearnt prejudice that starfleet still clings to.    it has never been on him how people choose to view those in his situation,    keeping nails deeply embedded into history if only to have an excuse.    yet,    for all his words,    between apology and wishing for a fresh start…    scientist would swear there are still flickers of those beliefs.    or,    at the very least,    an anger that won’t let understanding or forgiveness win.

 just because julian wishes to move on,    wishes to forget    -    it doesn’t mean that his heavy heart will be able to.

 ❝   I’m not accusing.    I’m not quoting either.    just saying,    usually that level of emotion takes more time to process.   ❞    like toxins leaking back into his system,    they can never quite be unsaid.    yet they are hardly worse than what she’s heard before    -    there have been times even maeve has said worse to herself    (  and certainly about herself   ).    so why did it do so much more damage to hear it coming from his mouth?    perhaps own determination to believe in his goodness had them feeling all the harsher,    a monument to own failings.    or,    more likely,    attachment to man once again has proven to be no more than naiveness showing itself.

 people,    no matter their core,    are not known for their ability to move on from what they perceive as such large betrayals.    he who may never quite lose the anger,    she who may simply never quite remember how to open up to him as she once longed to.

 arguing isn’t something maeve has never wanted    &&   even if she did,    it wouldn’t be with him even before recent events.    ❝   I don’t want my presence to cause any damage.    that’s the core of all I’m saying.   ❞    if her staying becomes an act of violence,    rather than an act of healing,    she will have become everything that maeve has tried so hard to deny is her nature.    ❝   knowing isn’t exactly something that can be undone.    as upset as you may be that I didn’t tell you,    I doubt there’s anything good to now knowing.   ❞

“      i’m not everyone.    ”     before they even left the shuttle his emotions had already changed and curdled, self-disgust clawing back the anger that had transformed his being.    when his mind was clear, it had all seemed so much simpler.    it was simple, to him at least.    it should have been...   it was endlessly confusing, he was not a simple being, as he had said, his mind opened and closed wider than anyone else’s, allowing space for endless compassion to his enemies, and anger when he felt the walls were closing in on him.     “    and i know myself.    got a lot of practice fighting...   it.    ”    

the anger directed at her was familiar.    it was the same one he reserved for himself:   a senseless, burning and twisted feeling which picked apart the victim and rarely allowed time for its victim to piece itself together before it raged its ugly head again.    it was that anger which had accompanied him since he learned the truth.    the life he remembered, blessed and clever, had all been a lie;   and when that innocence was lost, his insides were contaminated.

julian looked at the now vulcan-like features of her forehead.    “    because i could have helped you.    ”      she has spoken so many times about helping him with section thirty-one, providing a barrier when he has insisted there was no need, his belief in the captain more than enough to protect him from the cruel games sloan plays.    “    i saw your file, your real one now, and you are in pain.   i could have helped you.    ”

he speaks not from the place of the hero;   of the man who wants to save everyone for the glory and the crown, but as the boy who stitched up his bear.    she had been right there, in pain, and he didn’t know it.    “     and i can still help you.   that’s the good.    ”     again the mixed emotions all seem to be in agreement;   helping her is what is good.   not as an apology, but because it what is right, and even if she can’t see him as a friend, she is still his.

[wcrlds]

Ralph Ellison, Invisible Man

[wcrlds]

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾                      @spidercursed​ asked:    ‘but what about biceps? they’re meaningless now?’ / daisy

“   feeling a little self-conscious there, petey?    ”     resting her chin on the palm of her hand, daisy’s gaze stops on his ( admittedly impressive ) biceps for one short moment before climbing up to his eyes.   “    come on, aren’t ya supposed to be clever?  

meme tag. ( always accepting )

[wcrlds]

[wcrlds]

colnerys​:

   calloused palm instinctively rest against her flat stomach. kira’s never seen herself as a hero of any sorts, perhaps going as far as being uncomfortable at any form of reverence delivered her direction but kira isn’t ignorant to the compendium of names and people who want her head on a platter. she’s murdered a person with her own hands for the first time then. the way how his life drained from his body, the way how his eyes still fixed onto her as if vowing to haunt her for the rest of her life —— and that’s exactly what he does… he and the countless other deaths she’s responsible for. 

“ i-it… shouldn’t be like this.  ”  kira petulantly speaks the words thick in her throat. her head shaking at the thought of every single good person that’s sacrificed themselves for a peace that seems so faraway.  “  it’s so senseless… but this is my home. bajor… this cardassian built space station— ”  she lets out a sardonic laugh, wiping away the tears dampening her ducts.  “  besides, everyone knows i’m a walking target. i piss people off —— the cardassians, starfleet… hell, even my own people. i’m not bad luck but my actions have consequences so…  ”

it’s a thought that brings immense agony when she looks at the people she loves, face the spirits of her fallen comrades to think of their languish and regret at their choice to shield her. for the longest time, kira never thought much of her own life and death was a facet that she’s accepted. yet, with that brief window of peacetime and that harrowing revelation that almost had yoshi taken away from them —— all nerys knew how to do was to retreat and cast a distance between herself and the people she loves with every ounce of her being. 

so, she brings her reddening eyes to gaze at keiko.  “  none of you should pay for the consequences of my actions. i’m not worth the price, keiko.  ”

“    there is no scale in the galaxy that can measure if you deserve if others should care for you.    ”     in the recesses of her mind, she remembers learning about old egyptian rituals as a child  —   when you died, your heart was weighed against a feather.   if it was heavier, you didn’t deserve to go to their version of the afterlife.   a heavy heart could not brave the sands;    she didn’t understand it then, a simple uninjured life couldn’t conceive what would make a heart heavy.

a person’s own history wasn’t yet a concept for her, too young.   too unexperienced, life unfurling quietly and peacefully in her precious corner of the earth.  

now at full bloom, she still had her problems with that story.   the past it meant to shape and teach you, but it is not supposed to guide you forever.   it should be a ladder, and not a weight tied to your heel.    “    this is my home too, and you know, all of you know, how much i hated this place when i got here.   i didn’t want to raise my children at such a dark place, around people they didn’t know.   it felt cruel, it was cruel but i came anyway because i love miles, and i’d do anything for him.    ”     he needed to feel needed.   to have something to fix and replace.  keiko craved beautiful vistas and open space, and he thrived in the complicated under bowls of a station that should never have been a home.

and somewhere in between the light and the darkness, they discovered a happy middle.    “   you are making me pay now.    ”

[wcrlds]

[wcrlds]

patternsrhyme​:

“And what word would you use?” Xandra replies, amused tone to her voice. She glances away as she tries to recall the person Felicia is talking about. She shakes her head while the coffee machine starts filling both cups.

“Doesn’t ring a bell. A lot’s been going on. Sounds dangerous, though.” She picks up with cups, hands one over to Felicia. “Pretty sure you know where everything is and that you’re used to helping yourself, so…” She gestures with her now free hand. “Do I even want to know more or is it best that I don’t?”

“    foolish.    annoying is far too kind, he knows better and he does it anyway;   it gives him too much lee-way.    ”    self-sacrificial fool.   that was peter parker, he never gave an inch, he gave a mile, everything that he was.   

how many of her nine lives has she wanted because of his crusades and infectious foolishness?     “     it must be nice, not knowing the worst scumbags of town.    ”    taking the words as permission, she takes her cup and digs into the fridge for some milk.    “    what am i saying?   scumbags are everywhere, you must have your own breed of annoying haunting your lab.    ”

“     that is up to you, my dear.    ”

[wcrlds]

“With all the magic I know, I could be a god.”

— Flynn Carsen possessed by the apple of discord, The Librarians (via theredshirtsarecoming)

[wcrlds]

doctordonovan-a​  (   @doctordonovan​   )

 what’s the alternative to good?     she knows the answer that makes sense:   how an absence of good,    of self sacrifice,   must so certainly fall into the category of evil.   over childhood it was a mantra mary repeated whenever once girl faltered or struggled:   genius was not a gift,   not something meant to benefit maeve herself.   it was no more than a duty of care   -   an added responsibility and an added expectation. more grounds in which maeve has surely let down even the few who once saw her as worthy of trying to fix.

 of all the things and people she has been…    it is the burial of mute little girl that she regrets the most.     (  what a travesty it truly is that of all she could have been, maeve has ended up as she is.   )      ❝   sometimes, julian, it’s okay to simply be.   ❞    what a hypocrite she is   -   section 31 would surely be proud of it.    she has never been any better than doctor at being able to stomach not being enough,    not doing enough,    for fear of tripping and having to fact what was lurking in own shadow all along.     to be someone else’s creation is hard to stomach   -    to carry the knowledge they will happily take credit for the moments of success just as distasteful.

 ❝   my opinion on this doesn’t count.    but not a single person on this station would label you as the bad guy.    or any kind of bad guy.   ❞    how could they?    he is flawed,    human and messy,    full of traits she may never truly be able to understand.    but he is lead by heart    -   by the natural instinct to try and do the right thing.     ❝   people like sloan-   ❞    like her?    ❝    wouldn’t be so determined to make you their way if they thought that’s already who you are.    ❞

if only he could simply be.    his being has always been too big for his skinny frame, breaking him and quickly rebuilding before anyone could get a whiff anything was wrong.   moments of normalcy are few and far in between;   most of them surrounding an irish man who once hated him.    everything else in his life has had to be extraordinary.   there was no color palette to paint in shades of grey, to be anything but an extreme.   the kid falling behind in class, or the genius to whom everything came easily.

if he isn’t the guy, the hero , there leaves only one pair of shoes for him to kill.   sloan must have seen it, recognized what he truly was.    he could have done more, all of that brilliance that was implanted inside of him and he did nothing with it, wasted it away in holosuites and bars, clinging to the possibility of a normal life.    he had never been normal, he would never be normal.    that life died with jules.    the deck of cards was stacked when it was given to him and he folded way too soon.    “     i don’t care if it’s messy, or hard, being good...   it’s all that matters.     ”

“    they also believed i was jut like them for six years.    ”    eyes close as he lets out a rueful laugh.   “   i dont know how many would still describe me as good.    ”     being judged by his good deeds wasn’t an option for him anymore, he had to work harder to let them peak through from the box he existed in people’s heads.   freak, unnatural, khan 2.0.    “   are you okay with simply being?   i want more.    ”   

[wcrlds]

Andrew Garfield in The Amazing Spider-Man (2012) dir. Marc Webb

[wcrlds]

patternsrhyme​:

Xandra winces at how tightly he holds her, bloodied fingers clutching onto his shoulders. He is her home. No matter how strange she finds it sometimes, when she finds herself awake in the middle of the night with him snuggled against her and snoring, he is her home. And she hasn’t hoped to see him as much as she had until he’d burst into the bathroom, all in one piece.

She mutters an it’s okay when he softens his hold on her. Her eyes are watery from the pain and the relief all mixed in as she looks at him, her eye all red and beginning to show signs of bruising. There’s another demanding meow from Twoflower, and she gives him a quick pet before she’s pulled into another hug. She whimpers, but she gladly clutches onto him, her eyes floating shut for a moment. “You’re…I don’t know who…It hurts.”

“    i know, i know.    ”     it is that knowledge which pains him, how well he knows how much each wound hurts.     he signed up for this life, he choose to assume this responsibility and be the one to don the mask and risk his life;   the pain should be his.   not hers, never hers.   “    you are okay, though.   you are.    ”      he’d give his right arm, leg and his heart to never hear her whimper in pain again.

the sound burrows deep into his mind, unnaturally loud as it clangs inside his brain.   “    come here.    ”      brows furrow, readying himself to hear another whimper of pain as his hands grab the back of her thighs to lift them both up, depositing her on the sink so he can take a better look at her.    a scratch at his ankle goes unnoticed, his whole world right in front of him.    “    i’m sorry, it’s over now, okay?   it’s over.    ”

[wcrlds]

Warsan Shire, from “Midnight in the Foreign Food Aisle”, Bless the Daughter Raised by a Voice in Her Head