Was Gonna Write Properly Tonight But Work This Week Has Left Me Achy And Exhausted So My Brain Just Doesn't
was gonna write properly tonight but work this week has left me achy and exhausted so my brain just doesn't wanna do it - will work on things tomorrow instead <3
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WLWMEME: 1/8 wlwoc ♡ mazikeen (lucifer)
Are you still upset about me trying to betray you and kill you? It was a month ago.
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Hannibal Sentences, Vol. 2
(Sentences from Hannibal (2013-2015). Adjust phrasing where needed)
"It's not very smart to piss off a guy who thinks about killing people for a living."
"We have a difference of opinion, therefore I am going to choose the opinion that best serves my agenda."
"You do this a lot? Go places and think about killing?"
"Everybody thinks you did it, you know?"
"This isn't self-defence. You butchered him."
"I can help you, if you ask me to, at great risk to my career and my life."
"You can't anticipate your dreams. Can't block them, can't repress."
"Sometimes, at night, I leave the lights on in my little house and walk across the flat fields. When I look back from the distance, the house is like a boat on the sea. It's really the only time I feel safe."
"Family friction is usually a catalyst for personality development."
"All the attention and responsibilities heaped on first-born children prepares them for success in the future."
"There's something foreign about family, like an ill-fitting suit. I never connected to the concept."
"What am I about to put in my mouth?"
"When you're with me, you don't have to lie about anything."
"You're not your father's daughter. Not anymore."
"As someone who makes such a big deal about common courtesy, I'm a little taken aback!"
"Do you think it's too late for us to have kids?"
"Never apologise for coming to me."
"Somewhere between denying horrible events and calling them out lies the truth of psychological trauma."
"I have no taste for animal cruelty, which is why I employ an ethical butcher."
"Human emotions are a gift from our animal ancestors. Cruelty is a gift humanity has given itself."
"Your perfume is exquisite. Similar to the aroma on the air just after lightning strikes."
"He really is quite charming, isn't he?"
"How do you profile someone who has an anomaly in their head changing the way they think?"
"So, do you wait until I'm asleep until you come to bed?"
"So, can we have a conversation, or do you want to pretend that everything's alright?"
"You're the head of the unit! Why don't you come up with your own answers if you don't like mine?"
"Do I seem different?"
"You're a little different, but you've always been a little different."
"Did you just smell me?"
"I really must introduce you to a finer aftershave. That smells like something with a ship on the bottle."
"I don't know how much longer I can be all that useful to you."
"I'm not your father. I'm not going to tell you what you ought to do."
"I'm going to sit here until you're ready to talk. You don't have to say a word until you're ready, but I'm not going anywhere until you do."
"You're quite the topic of conversation in psychiatric circles."
"You're going to have to stop correcting me if we're going to get along."
"Do you know what profession psychopaths disproportionately gravitate to?"
"Here we are, a bunch of psychopaths helping each other out."
Dark curls bounced as Layla strode into the coffee shop, an air of confidence that didn't match the way her stomach churned the whole journey there. She knew the risks of meeting with people outside of her contacts, people she didn't know let alone trusted. But a friend of sorts knew someone that was suited for her needs, and Layla couldn't exactly be picky right now.
Not when Marc had just up and left. Disappeared completely, turned off his phone and cut contact with both her and Duchamp. Layla could feel in her gut that something was wrong – and she wasn't going to stop searching for her husband. Not even after the divorce papers had arrived in her mail. At their home, of all places.
She easily spotted the man she was there to meet, but allowed her dark gaze to drift by him. Instead strode up to the counter, ordering some sweet syrupy latte from the friendly barista. When Layla finally sat down, it was with a steaming takeaway cup in her hands and a determined look on her face.
" I've been told you're good at finding people, " the words leave her mouth immediately, not caring for introductions or small talk. This was important. " And I've got someone who needs to be found. Interested? " She raises her eyebrows, taking a sip of her drink.
@fracturals
Frank sat alone at a small table in the corner of the bustling café, the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee surrounding him. He absently stirred his drink, his eyes scanning the entrance for any sign of the person he was supposed to meet. Micro had hinted that this individual either held critical information or had a job for him, one that could potentially change everything. As he waited, an uneasy feeling crept in.
Frank was well aware of the risks involved; if the meeting felt off, he would leave without hesitation. He casually adjusted the collar of his jacket, feeling the reassuring weight of a knife in his pocket and another concealed in his boot. Typically, he wouldn't venture out without his gun, but he opted for the knives this time. They were more discreet and would allow for a quicker getaway if things turned sour.
He took a careful sip of his coffee, the warmth spreading through him, and watched patrons chatted and laughed, oblivious to the undercurrents of tension that sometimes filled the air. Frank’s instincts were sharp; he knew to trust them. He focused on the door, every passing moment stretching his anticipation, as he waited for whatever—or whoever—might come next.
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