Text !! Nate & Leo

I am not violent. I am not malicious. I am a result.

Death, The Book Thief (via literatureandfilms)

devieiras​:

Ines understood that therapy could be a scary process. In fact, many of her clients had been too intimidated to truly be vulnerable with her at first. It was a normal occurrence. But this? This behaviour had been anything but that. No amount of patience and gentle encouragement seemed to resonate with the man sat before her. Perhaps somebody less willing would have simply referred he and his wife to another psychologist. But the farther he seemed to act out, the more it only made Ines want to see things through. Joke’s on him. 

“Mm,” the woman acknowledged his statement with a hum, lips pursed and eyes staring into his with the same intensity he had given her, “Surely there is. You’re here, aren’t you? Realistically, there’s nobody forcing you to show up to these appointments.” She leant back in her seat, much like he had. “So, tell me Leo. Why is it that you continue to?” 

-

He stroked his beard as his mind was beginning to picture the drink he was surely going to have later tonight. Of course, it’d be a drink he’d have after telling his wife a little white lie about how this session went. That was until he heard her speak again. He thought his intensity would keep her from speaking again, but he did throw her a bone. And with the way their gaze had met again, he could tell that she was about to launch it right back at him. Especially with the way she mimicked his posture, he tried not to smirk. “Realistically,” he stole her term, “I do have someone forcing me to show up.” His face pulling up at the word as he said it condescendingly. He brought his hand down from his chin, and he looked over at the empty spot on the couch. The same spot his wife would occupy in their coupled sessions. A part of him wished she was there with him, her image was warm in his head, until it was overthrown by one of her openly complaining about him. Then his expression hardened as he looked back at Ines once again. “She is why I continue these stupid meetings. She believes your psycho babble is helping.” He said, sitting up and gesturing to his own temple as he mocked psychology as a whole.

closed starter: @averydawson​ where: avery’s apartment

“Aaaaay...” Leo’s voice drawled out the first syllable of Avery’s name. He repeated the vowel from his seated position in front of Avery’s apartment door. His posture was slack against the wood. His muscles so loose with the amount of alcohol he had consumed to rid himself of his guilt. It took sixteen shots to do so. He repeated the vowel again meaning to be louder but instead reached a much higher pitch. It reminded him of a song a particular song from the sixties called, Sherry by Frankie Valli & the Four Seasons. He tried to reach the falsetto once again using Avery’s name in place of Sherry’s as he began to sing the song. “Aaaaa-AAA-ver-yyyy, can you come out tonight?” He practically screech sang in the empty hall. 

YOU (2018-) 1.07 Everythingship

What’s something your muse has done, in canon or in a thread, that just makes you Love ThemTM?

God, I hate that I love him because he's so fucking annoying. He's the type muse that'd whisper in your ear what he wants to do. And there are so many questionable things that's done. But I can't help but love how charming he is? Like if he's sincere about anything, it's how he genuinely means every ounce of affection he gives away. Even if the quantity of that affection is again - questionable - even if he means it. He's just my lonely emo boy, and I just want him to feel loved without looking for it everywhere but himself.

renfarber​:

Oh, this was dangerous. He shouldn’t be looking at her like this. And she shouldn’t be looking at him like this. They were grown ass adults now, and they should know better, and they had responsibilities, and they’d broken up for a reason, because she’d done something horrible, and then he’d said some horrible things, and enough time had passed now that there shouldn’t be any feelings left of any kind, but… there were. She could tell from his eyes that there were. And anyway, Ren had always rather liked danger.

He smiled at the mention of her mother, and he joked about her ridiculous old friends, and she laughed at his dumb jokes and his smug smile and his popcorn-throwing, and what had felt dangerous a moment ago, now felt familiar and safe. Safe enough that she felt comfortable reaching up to fix some stray curls that had fallen over Leo’s eyes.

“Do you remember the night we met?” she smirked. She wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t, honestly. They were at work, and it was a particularly slow night, and nothing of interest really happened except for Ren meeting the only man she’d ever fall in love with. They’d spent the whole shift talking and laughing (and getting yelled at for talking and laughing), and sneaking booze from behind the bar. “I told you I felt like I’d known you in another life. And that nothing you could say would ever surprise me because of it. …I was a fucking weirdo back then,” she laughed, “but I still kind of believe that.”

-

The way she looked at him was almost becoming unbearable. Did she realize that she was looking at him the way she use to? Was he giving her the same adoring look that he had reserved for her all those years ago? Would the desire to stop wanting to reach towards her subside? How could he even approach her in such a way when she knew she was married and very clearly had honored that sanction far more than he did? No matter the answers, he had to behave, he had to. 

 Leo didn’t flinch or back away when Ren’s hand came to his obstructed view. He actually kind of welcomed not seeing her so clearly. It offered a bit of a shield, but she had brushed his shaggy curls away, giving him a sharp view of her stunning features once again. He’d never get over just how ethereal she appeared. And just like that, the urge to just move closer, grab her face and just kiss her took hold of him again. But thankfully she had given him another distraction.

He looked at the cute smirk upon her face as he took her question. The night they met. Arguably one of the best nights of his twenties. He would never tell her, but he even knew what phase the moon was in the sky that night; a crescent moon. He also regrettably even knew what the special was that night; a honey roasted duck. Which now he realized was probably the reason for the slow night. He kept his gaze on her as he recalled the rest of the details, the more important ones. Like how when their eyes first met, he became a stoic fool, melting into a stranger’s eyes. But then how quickly he had warmed up to her because of her charming demeanor, one that he matched up with his own. He definitely chose humour to captivate her, and he was smitten with her honesty no matter how eccentric it was. As he listened to her recalling their conversation about other lifetimes, his face had softened and there was smile shining from his eyes as well as his lips. “I think I remember it a lot better.” He gloated, of course, needing a spotlight on him being right once again. He leaned in closely, his elbow completely taking her arm rest as he did so. “Because you said, you felt like you’ve known me in a thousand other lifetimes.” The glint in his eyes still shown as he reminded her of that detail, the lighting of the movie’s glow helped ignite it brighter. “I asked if I were rich and successful in any of them and you said yes. And then like a lameass trying to shoot my shot, I asked if I got to see you naked in any of them.” His voice lowered an octave as if to keep that part intimately between them than it already was. Leo’s gaze, however, dropped down to the exposed skin at her collarbone before he forced it back up. His clutch on the popcorn bucket was unfortunately becoming obvious with the crinkling of the cardboard. 

Seven Psychopaths (2012), dir. Martin McDonagh

PENN BADGLEY as Joe Goldberg YOU (2018 -) | 2.06 Farewell, My Bunny

starter for: @norahphobia​ where: empire diner in chelsea

leo had to admit that he was a sucker for train styled diners. historic and rare were two attributes he’ll always admire. he had fond memories of diners such as this. once he was old enough to legally work, leo would bus tables and wash dishes. he admired the blue, silver chromium diner as he sat in a booth, waiting for his dinner date. and eventually, he shifted his gaze to the street outside. and then he had been sitting there long enough for the waitress to give the table two glasses of water. 

“You’re late,” Leo said immediately as Norah had came into view. “I’ve already called the cops.” He said, crossing his arms in front of him. He looked at her accusingly as if he was blaming her for something he obviously didn’t do. He was masking his bit of worry with a joke. 

#me