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24 February 2017 @ 09:11 am

She pushes the fruit in his hands, all the while insisting how important it is for him to be well-nourished during their journeys, and for a wild second he's agog at the thought that someone is actually concerned about his well-being -- him, good-for-nothing Yuri Lowell--


She sits quietly in front of the tree, writing, daydreaming about the past, present, future - and quite suddenly he's beside her and she screams because most of her thoughts are of him and how is it that they can summon him like this? Can she always do that? What if--


They are walking alongside each other and talking about nothing and everything in between when his hand brushes hers once, twice; she glances at him and giggles before quite resolutely lacing their fingers together.


Belatedly she realizes that it's raining and, oh, she's wearing her best, most pristine gown; but he's laughing and calling her name and reaching for her hand and she thinks yes, yes of course I'll come, don't be silly Yuri! 


He watches her waltz with some dignitary from a foreign land and tries his damnedest to look disinterested; the Captain nudges him knowingly and he swats the offending shoulder away before stalking the hell out of the castle.
I lol'd
10 February 2017 @ 12:34 pm
I keep thinking about how I'll end Static because I have a general idea of keeping to the canon end of Boys over Flowers but at the same time in the course of writing the fic I may have gotten too much emotionally invested in Woo Bin's character and I'm like ???!!! I don't want him to hurt???!!!
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08 February 2017 @ 03:39 pm
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16 January 2017 @ 10:33 am
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27 December 2016 @ 12:53 pm
Okay so I've just been literally going over my old, old, old threads (specifically at taxon) and I just

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12 December 2016 @ 03:13 pm
 I have revisited the part of my life when I'm obsessed with Angel again and ohmygod it still hurts like it's 1999
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05 December 2016 @ 03:49 pm
 ...do any of you guys still RP in Dreamwidth? I am getting major nostalgia for the time I spent playing :(
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29 November 2016 @ 09:13 am
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09 October 2016 @ 09:23 pm
Notes: Companion piece to 'Definir'.


It's the nerves - or the overabundance of them - that always catch you off guard.

The frantic energy dancing in your veins is a familiar feeling by now; seeing glimpses of her, however, amplifies the sensation tenfold until your very skin - your very breath - buzzes with it.

go to her go to her go to her go to her

You tell yourself that you know her (but what if she doesn't know you?), you tell yourself you have history together (but what if she doesn't remember you?), you tell herself that she is Iris and you are Barry and that in whatever world you are in, she will always be Iris, your Iris--

(but what if she isn't?)

You have a hundred and million opportunities to talk to her, and you waste them all because nerves.

Three months is not a long time, you rationalize. You have waited much, much longer, you remember.

But three months is also forever, you realize. Especially if you think about, what if--

What if--


She smiles at you and you think you are an idiot, you shouldn't have-- you shouldn't have--  

You're very cute, you know that?

you think immediately, because what you are is an idiot who rambles on and on about getting her drunk, what the fuck was that even about--

But she's smiling again at the face of your slow decay (fuck you and your runaway mouth, Barry Allen) and replies with, quite simply, yes.


You curb the urge to do something, anything, to extinguish the sudden whirl of energy coursing through your blood.

There is time for that, later.


You talk to her and you think about Iris, your Iris, and look for traces of her in an identical face.

Strangely, I know what you mean.

And you think of course she understands because she's Iris and you're Barry and in all and every infinite Earths out there, the two of you are just meant to be together in life.

Even if you need to take the necessary steps to ensure it.


It escapes definition, you tell her, and for once your mouth and your mind are in perfect synchrony because yes, exactly, yes.

Because what you feel for her, that which transcends time and space and worlds, that which remains whole and true and fills your chest to bursting, well--

--how can anyone define that?


I'm sorry about all this. 

Goodbye, goodbye, I'm sorry, I love you.

I'm sorry--