voice of safest place

They say, “we’re all addicted to something that takes the pain away”
I finally realized why I really didn’t care about anything but desired to see your face on the roughest day. Saw sunshines in your smile and magic in your eyes. The way the pain disappears right in front of my eyes to the sound of your laughter. Your voice that makes goosebumps raise on my skin but I’d still spend hours seeing your lips move aesthetically. Your arms I’d never get to be in but know that it looks like the safest place on earth.
Hear your voice on the days I can’t even enjoy my favourite music. And when the world is too heavy on my shoulders, I’d just sit and admire your words.
The way you simply sparkles just by existing and yes. You’re the only thing I wanna be addicted to.
Because you take away the pain in me. Effortlessly.
The first time you held me in your arms,
I felt uncomfortable.
Not because I’m afraid, or sensitive.
But because I still have someone in mind.
Your kisses felt unwelcomed.
Not because I didn’t like it, or you’re a bad kisser.
But because I still long for someone’s lips.
Your hugs didn’t feel warm.
Not because I’m feeling cold, or you’re too hard.
But because I am missing someone’s touch.
All these feelings, at first, it was odd.
But later on, I realized, it’s all part of my progress.
Later on, you made sure I won’t get disappointed.
The second time around,
Your touch felt so warm, for the first time—I felt like I’m at the safest place on earth; in your arms.
Your voice sounded really convincing, for the first time—I felt how you wanted me beside you; alone.
Your lips tasted like a kaleidoscope of flavors, sweet, desperate, & predictable—I’ve read your thoughts just by memorizing how your lips moved.
Your eyes left me mesmerized, you were right, I saw myself in those dark spheres—only myself, no one else.
Your skin felt like I’m in a whole new world, galaxy, universe, you caught me unaware, clueless about what’s behind your barrier—yet I didn’t bother hesitating, I entered without any doubts, hoping I’ll feel happy for a while. You were strumming your old guitar,
I felt flushed just by hearing you play, your voice sounded like an angel—humming, making me fall asleep again.
But the song you were playing, is what I didn’t expect to hear, you played an old song of my lover, and suddenly I felt stunned.
You sang the lyrics, and the memories came back. You’ve no idea what I’ve felt, so you kept singing, ‘til the song ends.
I felt sorry for myself, the sudden emptiness spread around my chest.
In the end, I still feel incomplete, after all.
But somehow, I’m glad. Somehow, I’m alright.
—  May 21, 2017: To my dearest cuddle buddy without any strings attached, just a friend to call on during those cold, lonely nights.
Brother’s Best Friend (Part 2) - A.I

y/n woke up the next morning still dressed in her clothes from the previous day, her eyes sore, emotions weighing thin as she sat up in the foreign bed. All she could be thankful for at the moment was that it was a Saturday morning and nothing, at the moment, required her attention. She quickly stripped off yesterday’s clothes, rummaging through her bag for clean underwear, shorts, and one of her Def Leppard shirts that hung loosely off her shoulders from having the collar cut off. The last thing she wanted to do was go downstairs and meet her new family, being saved from that moment when they returned from the hospital having only her and Daryl be home, she retreated to the spare room and slept through the night.

Quietly, making her way down the stairs, she could hear two voices coming from the kitchen, figuring this was the safest place to go to grab something to eat since she hadn’t eaten since the morning before.

“Good morning,” a woman stated, a bright smile on her face, a heaping amount of food placed in front of her. “How’d you sleep?”

“Alright,” y/n muttered out, not really sure how to take on the woman who must be her father’s wife. “I…what do you want me to call you?” she asked blatantly, but it was a valid question. Was this woman technically her step-mom? Did she want to be called mom?

“Karen’s fine, hon. Come eat, you must be famished.” The girl nodded slightly taking a seat next to the only other person in the kitchen, a boy with bright red hair and piercing green eyes that bore holes into her skin as he stared her into oblivion. “This is Michael, my son…and your half-brother.” Y/n looked towards him, tongue poking out slightly to wet her lips before sticking her hand out politely. She watched as he looked down to her hand before looking back to her face, quickly sliding off the chair heading upstairs, a sigh escaping Karen’s lips. “I’m sorry about him.”

“It’s fine. I’ve kind of intruded on his life,” she responded taking a plate stacking two pancakes and some bacon onto is, Karen watching her carefully as Michael returned moments later fully dressed, snapback reversed on his head.

“I’m going out with the guys.”

“You just got back from being with them an hour and a half ago. Why don’t you boys just stay here?” Karen asked watching Michael stiffen up slightly. Y/n could just feel his gaze on her once again, choosing to ignore it and continue eating.

“Do I have an option?” Michael asked just as a knock came to the front door, Michael going to answer it revealing a blonde with glasses and a killer smile. “Hey, Ash.”

“Hey. Hey misses Clifford,” he said smiling slightly as he walked into the house, the door shutting behind him as he placed his hands in his pockets, his eyes making their way towards the other girl in the kitchen clearly confused for a moment before remembering Michael’s conversation from the night before. His eyes raked over her body as subtly as he could noting how effortlessly beautiful she was, knowing she most likely had just awoken. “And you’re Michael’s sister, right?” she nodded her head as he continued into the house, Michael’s jaw clearly tensing from aggravation.

“Y/n,” Karen spoke out for her as Ashton sat on the chair next to her, Michael leaning up against the wall watching them.

“Y/n, great to meet you. I’m Ashton,” he said holding out his hand to shake hers as she watched him carefully before  returning the gesture. “Do you have any plans for the day?”

“Ashton,” Michael warned the blondish boy who clearly ignored his friend’s warning, his dimpled smile not leaving his lips.

“I…no,” she responded stumbling around her words, his smile only growing.

“Why don’t you join us? I think we’re just taking a run to one of the music shops in town for a bit before going back to one of our friend’s places.” She hesitated, looking back and forth between Michael and Ashton before shaking her head, a polite smile on her face as she declined his offer.

“I should really get myself settled in. Maybe next time,” she muttered before returning to her pancakes noting he had yet to stand up from his spot on the chair.

“Alright, well, next time then,” he said before turning to Michael’s mom having a conversation with her, y/n shutting them all out just wanting to go back upstairs and out of the awkward situation. She hadn’t even notice Karen and Michael leave the room until Ashton handed her a piece of paper with a number scrawled out in chicken scratch. “I know how it is to start over completely. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call or text me, alright?” she nodded looking towards him watching as he flashed his signature dimpled smile before walking off towards the front door just as Michael resurfaced. The moment the two boys stepped out, Melani stepped in with another entire folder, Daryl following in right behind with a tray of coffees in his hand.

“Oh, wonderful, you’re awake,” Melani said with a small smile on her face. “This should only talk about half an hour, alright?” the two of them making their way into the kitchen, Daryl placing the tray of coffees down handing one to y/n.

“I wasn’t sure what kind of brew you enjoyed, so I got it black. There’s cream and milk in the fridge and sugar is on the counter by the sink,” he explained, the female taking it from him drinking it as is.

“It’s perfect, thank you,” she responded, Melani pulling out a few papers as she sat next to the young girl.



“Why’d you invite her?” Michael pestered his friend as they made their way to the music shop in town like planned, now almost half an hour late since Ashton had decided to make his way inside the Clifford household.

“Because I know how it feels to start over completely and be thrown into a new situation with no other choice, no support, no friends by your side…besides, your glaring just completely knocked off her answer. You pretty much intimidated her into saying no,” Ashton retorted pulling into the spot right next to Calum’s car. “You may not like it, but she’s your sister by blood. It’s not even like she’s your stepsister. She shares your DNA.”

“She the product of my dad’s whorish decisions.” Ashton sighed running a hand through his hair before turning his car off.

“You act like she chose to be conceived. Give her the benefit of the doubt, Mike. She looked so vulnerable and scared today. You don’t even know what she’s been through.” Both boys escaped the rising tension inside the car, walking up the steps to the shop.

“Then why don’t you get to know her? Because I really have no intentions of doing so, Ash,” Michael said back to his friend leaving Ash stunned by the front of the store. But, that’s exactly what Ashton had in mind. Someone had to accept her. He figured it would be best if it was him, as well, considering they shared a bit more in common than her and Michael probably did; Michael coming from a family where he was used to being an only child, his parents being together his entire life while Ashton, on the other hand, had never met his biological father and had two half siblings, whom he cared for greatly.

“What took the two of you so long?” Calum questioned his two friends as he continued to try out different basses trying to see which one felt right to him.

“Ashton decided he wanted to meet y/n,” Michael responded looking through the different selections of guitars.

“Oh, cool. Is she as awful as Michael lets on?” Luke questioned having already picked out the guitar he wanted, as well as a few more pics to compensate for the ones he had lost in his brother’s room.

“Not nearly. She seemed nervous,” Ash responded picking up a new pair of drumsticks knowing he could never have enough, especially if another incident like yesterday occurred where he lost one out the window of the garage. He felt a vibration in his pocket from his phone, pulling it out spotting an unrecognized number assuming it was y/n since he hadn’t given his number out recently.

Y/n: Thanks for reaching out. It’s greatly appreciated.

Ashton smiled to himself before typing a quick response.

Ash: Of course y/n. Someone needs to. So…tell me about yourself.

*voice of narrator guy from movie previews*

Tumblr was never the safest place, we’ll all be honest.

*flashing text posts and asks of anon hate/fighting about rights and stuff/fighting about equality*

But it was home for everyone.

*happier text posts/fandom posts/inspirational posts/general weird text posts*

Until the virus attacked.

“They’re impossibly good at this.”

“It keeps mutating!”

“Don’t click on that!”

“It’s either a virus or a rick roll.”

“…You mean it’s 2008 again?”

“What do we do?”

“Warn each other. It’s our only defense. Don’t click anything. Don’t check reblogs, don’t answer asks, don’t–DON’T CLICK–”

*screen blinks black*

A Tumblr Horror Story
Coming Soon to a Laptop Near You

I will always find my way back to you,
because you’re my home.
Because your arms will always be the safest place wherever I go.
Because your voice will always be better than our favorite vinyl.
Because your touch will be the best thing
every morning.
The kisses from you will always be the sweetest thing
before I go to sleep.
So please remember this:
No matter where I go, no matter what I do, I will always come back to you. No matter how many times I go to different places without you,
at the end of the day, I will still be with you. I am not going to get tired of coming home to you.

Hannibal endings I would love.

Will gets out of the hospital, face scarred and stands in front of the barrier, looking at Hannibal who is writing or perusing his books and ignoring Will.  Will is trembling and holding the note from Hannibal saying he hopes he doesn’t look too ugly from his scars. 

Will approaches the glass and says “You took everything…I don’t even have you left.”

Hannibal ignores him which seems to be answer enough for Will and he leans against the barrier, tears running down his face.  Suddenly fingers caress his badly scarred cheek and he looks up into Hannibal’s face who is holding back tears himself but has a tender smile. 

Will closes his eyes, relaxing, tension releasing. The tears still fall and Hannibal leans against the barrier so they would be resting cheek to cheek if not for it and never once stopping the caress even if it’s only with two fingers, all he can fit through the hole.

Footsteps approach, the click of high heels and then we hear a voice with a distinct southern accent. A woman’s voice. “Hello, Dr. Lecter? Jack Crawford sent me.”

Hannibal calls  Alana after he gets out and is in Brazil standing in front of  house. Does his famous ‘I won’t call on you if you extend me the same courtesy. Now I’m having  an old friend for dinner.”  And he hangs up the phone then he sets his sights on Will who appears in the window briefly. He goes inside quietly, creeping to the kitchen where you can hear something cooking, and faint voices.

Will’s voice becomes distinct saying. “I’m fine Alana.  Where I am is the safest place I could be.”

Hannibal creeps up on him, reaching into his pocket as he reaches for Will.  Will turns and Hannibal stops, they both stare at each other then Will smiles as Hannibal pulls out  a small bag and sets it on the counter.

“Welcome back.” Will says.

Hannibal goes up and cups his face (and kisses him stupid for 10 minutes) and asks if dinner is ready.

Will says “almost. Just waiting for you.” and indicates a beautifully set table. 

“Ah I see the guest of honor is here” Hannibal says and the camera pans out further to reveal a bloody faced Chilton, obviously drugged with a line of blood on his forehead and a bloody bone saw next to him as well as an electric skillet all ready to go.

Will is all scarred up and broken in Sugar loaf, alone with only his whiskey for company.  He wakes up from a nightmare, reliving Hannibal gutting him and sits up, seeing Hannibal standing over him from where he passed out on the couch.

He breathes a liquid sigh of releif then gives a sob and lurches up, going to a drawer and withdrawing the knife Hannibal originally gutted him with and then hands it to him.

His hand is shaking as he presses it into Hannibal’s hand and begs softly. “Finish it. Make it quick, please.”

Hannibal takes it but then throws it before he pulls Will into a hug, holding him tightly as Will shakes. He cards his fingers through Will’s hair and tells him neither will be alone again.