#╳┊: — i know that getting you alone isn’t easy to do. •「 ask meme. 」

[merlucide]

Hiii kira!! Are your requests open?? If yes, could you do kurona or otoya comforting reader bc reader is hospitalized? (I just LOVE LOVE LOVE your writing, too!!!!! It always brings me so much joy!!!!) If they are closed you can ignore this tho, no pressure!!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

OTOYA + KURONA COMFORTING HOSPITALIZED READER

Notes: omg ofc!! you have no idea how much your words mean to me😭 seriously thank you so much!! It brings me so much joy that you enjoy my work 💗💗 hope this was what you had in mind<3

OTOYA EITA

He comes to the hospital so frequently that all of the staff knows who he is.

Like sir you were here 30 minutes ago, this is your 4th time coming here today. he’s rigged the system

He just is excited to see you :3

He brings tons of snacks (if you can eat them) and plushies every time he comes. 

He’ll sit on the end of your bed and talk with you about literally anything. 

He tells you about the things him and Da Boyz 🥶 did recently and how cool he was lol. 

He of course asks how you’re doing, if you don’t want to talk about it he’ll do his best to respect that but he can’t help but pry a little.

He knows your probably stressed and feeling down about your stay, so he’ll try to lighten the mood with whatever he can do, even if that means making a fool of himself damn he must love you

If you cry he’ll do his best to comfort you, he’s not the best at that but he’ll try to crack a couple jokes and let you lean on him. 

He thinks you’re doing a great job getting through this. Being hospitalized isn’t fun or easy. He tells you that you’re so badass for not letting this situation defeat you. He said your a total kuniochi because of this.

He calls and texts you so often(if you can use your phone). 

He sends you so many stupid TikTok’s/memes, they’re so stupid it’s funny. He sends you so many selfies too, sitting, in bed, eating, on the toilet, etc etc.

He’s proud of you for dealing with this, he knows you’ll get through this hard time just fine. <3

KURONA RANZE

Every time he visits you in the Hospital he brings you a bouquet of handpicked flowers.

He always gives you a big hug when he see you (if your able to)

Kurona will just sit at your side and hold your hand.

If you want to talk, he’ll talk, if you don’t want to that’s fine too.

He knows that this isn’t easy, and he’s really proud of you for doing your best to get through it. 

He’ll talk to you about things he did that day or shark fun facts.

He’ll do anything you want to try to make your stay nicer. 

He’ll bring your favorite foods(if you can eat them), he’ll paint both of your nails if you want(you guys match ofc!)

If you need to cry about it he’ll hold you with both of his arms tightly. 

He reminds you that you are strong enough to get through this, and it will be over in time. 

He does his best to make you feel like you’re not alone in this.

It breaks his heart to see you so down. 

He calls every morning and every night (as long as the doctors say it’s okay for you to use your phone).

He sends you kitty memes and sunset pictures.

Kurona will stay by your side until your discharged from the hospital and until the end of time<3

I hope this was okay! I wasn’t sure how to approach this so sorry if it’s not what you had in mind! Hope you’re okay! <3

made April 23rd 2024

#merlucide #merlucide’s anons ^^ #blue lock #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk #blue lock x you #bllk x you #Otoya x reader #Ot #otoya eita x reader #otoya #otoya eita #bllk otoya #kurona #kurona x reader #kurona ranze #bllk kurona #blue lock kurona #Bllk #bllk scenarios #blue lock manga #Bllk comfort #Blue lock comfort

[nyxie-e-e]

GAVIN QUOTES THAT I HAVE ROTTING IN MY NOTES APP BECAUSE I LOVE HIM SO MUCH

S/N: He (along with Milo and Guy ofcc<33) is the reason why I know what healthy love looks like

- [ ] “How should I fuck you tonight?”

- [🥺 ] “What I want right now is for you to be happy”

- [ ] “You can do anything you want to me, Deviant”

- [😍 ] “Call it arrogance but i know my appeal just as i am”

- [ ] “I don’t want easy. I want to be a person. My own person”

- [🥺] “Being alive and living are two different things”

- [ ] “I might not check the box for every single person out there but I don’t want to”

- [ ] “You get to decide which parts of yourself you get to share with other people”

- [ ] “I don’t take that trust lightly and it is reciprocated”

- [ ] Thank you for trusting me… and for letting me know that I’m fucking another guy’s charge”

- [🥺😭♥️] “You can set the world down now. That doesn’t make you a failure that doesnt make you weak there isn’t a finish line you didn’t get to, there is just your life stretched out ahead of you. There are people in your life who care about you”

- [🥺😭♥️ ] “We’re here for you. I’m here for you” *hugs* it’s gonna be okay you’re okay. You don’t have to be everything for everyone. You matter to and it is not selfish to admit that”

- [ ] “This is not you breaking this is you taking control. This is you redefining your circumstances instead of letting them control you”

- [ ] “It’s time to start living”

- [ ] “I know I’m awful but would you want me if I was anything else”

- [🥺 ] “You’re not alone. You don’t have to do this alone anymore”

- [😭 ] “You honor me by letting me see this side of you”

- [😭😭 ] “Because i don’t want the words the impact you’ve had on my life to go unheard”

- [☺️] “You know all of these things but i like saying them”

- [*crying cat meme*] “Cherished words that carry my love to you and hold you in blissful rest”

- [🥺] I want you to have peace, so my words bring you peace. It’s that simple and it’s nice for something to be simple for a change

- [🥺 ] But you held on. You made space. You asked me to step into that space.. no one ever asks me for that

- [🥺♥️ ] “You are loved and loving and what you do matters so very much”

My love🥺

#I honestly never thought I would simp so hard for him LMAO #when I first listened to him I was like 😐 #but now I’m like 🥺😩😭🥰😍♥️ #y’know? #I relate to freelancer a lot and there’s just something about Gavin’s words and the way he carries himself that just does it for me #OMG I CANT BELIEVE I DIDNT ADD THE SPACE BETWEEN MY STARS QUOTE AAAAA THAT ONE TOOO^^ #ALSO ALSO WATCHING WELL IG LISTENING TO HIM BE HIMSELF FULLY WITH THE DAMN CREW IS SO FUCKING BEAUTIFUL LIKE AAA HE IS SO PLAYFUL & FLIRTY #I love his confidence so much #I also love how gentle he can be though 🥺 #THE WAY HE CONFESSES HIS LOVE 10000000 TIMES IS JUST AAAA I LOVE ITTTT #OKOK THIS IS GETTING LONG #redacted asmr #redacted audio #redacted damn crew #redacted freelancer #redacted gavin

[seasurfacefullofclouds1]

https://www.tumblr.com/seasurfacefullofclouds1/744672247980195840/it-wasnt-a-failure-of-understanding-of-harrys

Not sure if its a good way to start my ask but i was a larrie until couple of months and i still feel very bad that am not able to let it go.. this is not my life until last year and its just i feel too much all the time.. am not able to let it go that louis and harry are not together and seeing your blog and going through stuff that is not said anywhere is making me so angry.. how the truth is twisted and made into a fantasy, i guess its not even people fault who write only about their perception because they think of boys in a certain way rather than what actually happened and what has been happening and how unfair L is being treated.. am angry with myself that why am i bothered when a millionaire white male(H) has turned to be what they usually are.. i did not believe harry relationship with olivia but when i saw pattern of H and his personal trainer i was feeling very bad.. very bad for louis.. i know you don’t believe they are together but i did and i felt so betrayed.. you might think thats its silly to feel such strongly but trust me am unable believe myself.. it could’ve been that louis has broken up with harry or the otherway but i cannot help but feel sad for louis.. he is someone who deserves a better man than H but he also seem to take a lot of time to get into a relationship unlike someone who has relationships with every other random person.. may be that trainer is a good person but harry’s way of parading his girlfriends or boyfriends around the world is disgusting and people actually are doing is it just something else altogether.. i wanna sit with louis and wanna hear all about what he has to say and kick everyone that hurt him so badly..

Hi there!

I can’t say that I know enough about Brad the Trainer, except that sometimes he and Harry are in casual photos together? Honestly, idk anything.

I know when fandom hangs on certain myths (the two-week rule, we-kind-of-share-that, Louis supports Harry at his concerts, Harry is secretly helping Louis’ career), it can feel very personally anxiety-provoking when an event contradicts the mythology, like when they spent months during pandemic obviously thousands of miles apart.

I used to be a Larrie, and I remember those moments of huge doubt, only to have the fandom twist the truth so hard to eliminate the doubters. Then it would always turn to old gifs, jokes, memes, and fanfiction to make everything comfy again.

Here’s the thing. I think once you let go of “they still might be together,” you should try to question every assumption, even something like, “They check up on each other.” Do they though? Do they even have time?

Unlike fans, Louis and Harry know what they are (individually) doing every day, they don’t have to guess. Their days are often filled with work and meetings. They’re with friends. They have to plan months, years into the future. They have to talk to doctors, dentists, stylists, publicists, tour managers, graphic designers, producers… you get the idea.

I promise you they are NOT reading fan tweets or Tumblr posts and sending secret signals or anons. I promise you they aren’t coordinating what they wear, let alone colors. They aren’t checking each other’s lyrics or interviews or gossip pages or haircuts or fanfic-inspired movies or whatever, because their lives are already too busy; they are two separate people.

So I doubt that Louis is sitting at home feeling sad that Harry is dating whomever, because it probably never crosses his mind. Louis is living his own very full, very fulfilling, very fun, and probably at times very stressful life. He has employees he needs to pay, and investments in future projects that aren’t easy and aren’t jokes. Life isn’t just about getting on stage for 90 minutes every few days.

Instead, feel happy for Louis that he has so much going on, and that he is the master of his life. He can choose to settle down with someone or not. He can like whatever he wants to like on Instagram. He can design his 28 clothing campaigns the way he wants it. Louis’ stage design is his creation. He can choose not to perform at an Azoff venue, ever. He can support and listen to whatever artist he wants without worrying about their label or management affiliation. He watches the shows he wants to watch, wears the designers he wants to wear. He can spend money on his band, taking them on outings, and trust them completely. All of this is so much more than what he had before— and his joy shows.

Welcome to your freedom.

[try-set-me-on-fire]

@jeeyuns @wildlife4life and @thewolvesof1998 tagged me in the fic stats meme!

Rules: post your fic with the most hits, the second most kudos, third most comments, fourth most bookmarks fifth most words and least words!

Most hits: all my life, there you go

"Alright," Eddie whispers, and since this is half a dream anyway he lets his hand cradle Buck's chin for a moment as they part. Buck smiles at him, easy, the brightest thing in here at 3 AM with the kitchen lights set to dim.

—

Drabble prompts from tumblr!

Second most kudos: also all my life, so I’ll plug take you in and make you mine, because I just posted the second chapter

He unlocks the door thinking a little nonsensically about the buddy system. We have to stick together, he thinks as Buck moves immediately to the heating controls, turning the AC on with a familiar clank-hum, it’s safer that way. Buck turns to face him, opens his mouth to say something but then Eddie is there, closing the distance, kissing him. We have to stick together Buck’s lips are warm so we won’t get lost and the noise he makes isn’t as surprised as it maybe should be so we can take care of each other but he still pulls back it’s safer, please, it’s safer this way.

—

Eddie should know better. Buck’s known for awhile. Maddie learns something new.

Third most comments: pick me, choose me, love me

Eddie wants to scream. Eddie wants to talk to Buck. There are questions he should ask - Do you know when the bleeding started? How long has it been? How bad does it hurt? Are you injured anywhere else? There is a conversation he wants to have - If I leave you here I don’t know that you’ll be alive when I get back. There are protocols, in disaster situations. If you can only save one person, you save the one most likely to survive. Beyond protocol, you always fucking save the kid. Beyond that, it's our kid. It’s our fucking kid, it’s Christopher, and I am going to get him to the surface and in doing so I am going to leave you for dead. But it’s Buck, and they never really needed words to talk, and Buck is still looking at him, and Eddie knows what he'd say. He'd downplay the injury. He knows the protocol. And he’d already said it, damned him out loud, he’s going to take you back up top and then come back for me.

Fourth most bookmarks: maybe fall in love

It's a pretty graceless confession but last Eddie checked it was 87° and, as a reminder, 3:46 in the goddamn morning. Whenever he'd occasionally let himself imagine this moment it had been a lot sweeter, maybe candles, maybe flowers, a big emotional recounting of exactly how much Buck means to him and how much his life has changed for the better because he's in it, but Eddie really thinks he should be cut some slack given the circumstances.

Fifth most words: like all good things are

By the time they dig down to where Chimney’s buried he’s barely conscious and laying in a puddle of his own blood. Buck wants to look anywhere else, but the only other option in the cramped space is to look at Hen, and he doesn’t want to do that because he knows what he’ll see there: the particular tight jaw expression she gets when things have gone bad. And Buck isn’t the team paramedic but he’s EMT certified like every other firefighter in the city and he knows this is bad, even if Chimney manages a bloody chuckle and says “Took you long enough.”

Least words: also maybe fall in love, so I’ll plug all the work that needs to be done because it’s the only one that didn’t qualify for any of these

Buck nods, two slow movements like any action at all pains him. Eddie isn’t sure how literal or metaphorical that statement is, and wants to tell him again to let a doctor look at him, but they’ve had that argument several times already tonight and Buck had a look in his eyes like- like Eddie doesn’t even know what, but whatever would have happened if he’d kept pushing would not have been good, so he’d let it drop and stuck close to his side. "She shouldn't be alone."

—

Bobby dies. Eddie worries. Life goes on.

Tagging @rewritetheending @forthewolves @burins @devirnis @bigfootsmom @shortsighted-owl @buckactuallys @shitouttabuck 💛

#tag games #my writing

[blitzturtles]

Title: Repercussions (Ao3)

Rating: Teen and Up

Fandom: Our Flag Means Death / OFMD

Pairing(s): Steddyhands

Summary: For a prompt on the kink meme: Izzy is not okay following the loss of his toe. This can manifest in any number of ways: difficulty maintaining his balance, pain, phantom pain, maybe even an infection because the wound never healed correctly? Whether you want to go mild or more extreme, I'm not picky.

I just want Izzy hurting and a guilt-ridden Ed (+Stede) to take care of him, above Izzy's protests that caring for him like this is 'beneath him.

Notes: Set a bit into the future wherein Steddyhands is an established throuple. Prompt found here.

Thank you so much to my two betas Nordic_Witch_of_the_Books and tortellini!

Trigger/content warnings for mentions of drug use (for medical purposes), the toe thingTM, descriptions of injury, and home surgery.

-

Izzy’s pulled from a restless sleep by a searing, pulsing pain. Fire licks at the sole of his foot, spreading inward, deep into the flesh. His foot contracts in response, toes curling painfully. His back arches off of the bed, and his fingers grasp at the sheets beneath him so desperately that he thinks he might just tear right through them. It’s little consolation for the pain that blossoms from the mess of healing tissue that makes up the space where his little toe had once been.

Belatedly, he thinks of his leathers, of something he can bite into. It won’t detract from the pain, but it would keep him quiet, and that’s a precious ability that he’s lacking at the moment. No matter how hard he tries to swallow down the sounds that bubble up his throat, they still manage to escape, muffled yet undeniable.

His only relief is knowing that he is alone. There is no warmth to his left nor to his right, and the cabin is eerily silent, save for his own pained noises. If he were anything other than utterly alone right now, he would have already been made aware of it. Thank God for small favors.

With tremendous effort, he forces himself to sit up, hands grasping at his calf, as if he can massage away the worst of the pain. If he can at least stop the cramping, then maybe the rest will be more manageable.

Except it doesn’t help at all.

His foot seizes up again, forcing his toes to flex downward until it feels as though they couldn’t possibly be wrenched back into place. Even in its absence, the stub of flesh attempts to tighten, and it’s a burning, sucking, agonizing sensation that feels endless, ricocheting throughout his foot and up his leg. He feels it in his hips, for fuck’s sake, and it’s all he can do to bite into the meaty flesh between his thumb and forefinger and cry until his face is a mess of snot and tears. His cheeks are red, eyes puffy and bloodshot. He knows what he must look like, and, again, he finds solace in being left to his misery on his own. The thought of the Captain—or worse, Stede—seeing him like this makes his already nauseated stomach churn violently.

And, because he’s never really been a good man or a particularly godly one, at that, God forsakes him in that moment when the door to the cabin opens and a cheery voice starts in on him, grating his already frayed nerves in an impossible way.

“Good morn—oh, oh dear.”

“Out,” Izzy tries to say—or growl. He fails at both.

“No,” Stede answers, “No, I don’t think so.” He makes his way to the bed, only pausing long enough to deposit a tray he had been holding. Izzy takes note of the food piled on it, and the nausea somehow worsens, like his stomach is crawling up through his throat to try and deposit itself onto his lap before he can do anything about it.

“Your foot, I take it?” Stede asks as he gets close enough to see the bandages that are still wrapped around Izzy’s foot. Izzy isn’t holding it, hands still grasped firmly at his calf, but it’s an easy enough assumption to make. The damn thing won’t heal. Roach had to open it back up to cut infection out of it, and it’s been a nightmare ever since. Not that it had been going all that well before. An infection, particularly when it’s pressed up against exposed bone, is fucking excruciating. To the point that Izzy hadn’t been able to walk for a time.

“Brilliant fucking guess,” Izzy snarls. He doesn’t mean it, not really, but he hurts. He’s been shot, stabbed, damn near gutted, and somehow this is worse. An unending sort of misery that offers no reprieve. He could laugh, thinking back on it. He wonders if the Kraken had an inkling of an idea of what he truly inflicted upon his First Mate, and he can already see the way Ed would flinch away at such an accusation. It brings the bile back up his gullet.

Stede hums quietly, but otherwise doesn’t respond to the vitriol Izzy spits at him. He’s long since gotten used to the prickly parts of Izzy (which happen to be all of Izzy’s parts). “I can go get—”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Izzy means it to come out more threatening than it does. As it stands, it sounds more like a plea spoken between inhaled gasps and choked off sobs. For a moment, he is nothing but pain, mind whited out with it, and it’s all he can think about until Stede speaks up again.

“He’s going to find out sooner rather than later,” Stede says, but he doesn’t push the issue. “May I?” He indicates to Izzy’s leg, and there’s a moment where Izzy considers telling him to fuck off. He doesn’t want to be seen right now, much less touched. There’s a chance that any movement might make his foot worse, and he’s terrified at the sheer prospect of that.

Instead of rejection, Izzy gives a helpless, half-shoulder shrug. Stede’s helped in the past. Always seems to know where to put his stupidly soft hands. There’s not much Izzy has to lose here. He’s in Hell already, and his dignity is casually floating to the bottom of the ocean with every tear that he sheds.

“Right then,” Stede moves to slide onto the edge of the bed, careful to not bounce the mattress. The last thing Izzy needs is for his leg to be jostled.

Carefully, Stede reaches out with his hands and places them just below Izzy’s. His thumbs press into either side of Izzy’s calf and work small circles. It’s not the root of the problem, his leg, but the whole thing is a tangle of triggers. The nerve pain comes from the missing toe. Both the stump of it and the non-existent hurt equally, and they cause the rest of his foot to tense horrifically. That same tension extends up his leg, though part of the pain he experiences in his leg is from improper care. Apparently there’s an actual science behind the length of a cane, and using the wrong height has caused a domino effect where his legs each tried to compensate for his injury in different, rather unhealthy ways. In short, it’s his own fucking fault he’s like this.

“None of that, now,” Stede whispers, fingers working bloody magic as they go. It’s enough to get the muscles to relax a touch.

“Wha—?” Izzy croaks, confusion evident on his face.

Stede pauses in his ministrations long enough to wipe at the tears tracking down Izzy’s cheeks. “You’re upsetting yourself with whatever nonsense is going on in here,” he taps Izzy on the brow, right between his eyes. It’s a distraction, and it works. For a moment, but then Izzy is jerking backwards, pulling his leg with him and trying to press it as close to his chest as he can. A litany of curses fall from his mouth.

“—Easy, Israel, breathe. Just like that, there’s a love,” Stede says in a quiet murmur. He’s somehow gotten behind Izzy, using himself to prop Izzy up with Izzy’s back against his chest. Izzy doesn’t remember moving or being moved, but the agony is only now beginning to subside, allowing him to think beyond the throb of his foot.

Instinct is what Izzy will blame later, should anyone ask about the way he curls into Stede, body turning just sideways enough to tuck his head into the other man’s neck. He smears tears and snot across Stede’s collar, but Stede doesn’t hesitate to bring a hand up to the back of Izzy’s head, cradling it gently in his grasp.

Stede’s still whispering gentle nothings. Quiet assurances and promises that he likely can’t keep. Izzy doesn’t call him on it, can’t be bothered to be argumentative in this state. It’s been months of this, and he’s just so goddamn tired. He’s too old for this, body unwilling to handle such a simple injury (he can hear Stede protesting to Izzy framing it that way. Any time an injury gets infected, it’s far from simple. It can be a death sentence in their world).

Stop crying. It’s just the pinky.

Izzy flinches at the memory. The manic glee of having Blackbeard back had only driven him so far, about as far as it took him to realize that he hadn’t gotten Blackbeard back at all. He’d unleashed something far worse, and it’s precisely why he refuses to share in this Hell with Ed.

But, then, life has never cooperated with him. He’s always had to wring everything out of it with his bare hands and the occasional teeth. It’s why Ed barges in, unannounced, and face only barely hiding the mild alarm he must be feeling at having Stede disappear for so long without warning.

Izzy doesn’t need to see to know the exact moment that Edward freezes. He comes to a stuttering stop, damn near tripping himself over his bad knee in the process, and Izzy can hear the way it grinds the same way he can hear Ed bite back a grunt.

“Iz?”

Izzy curses, hands immediately wiping at his face as quickly as he can. Fuck the pain. He’s not ruining Ed’s day over this shit. He can push past it, get himself up and moving and out on deck like usual. He doesn’t need Bonnet to baby him, and he doesn’t need to be blubbering like a child over an old wound, even if it does hurt worse now than it had at the time he’d gotten it.

“No, wait—Iz, Izzy,” Ed’s surprisingly fast, given his knee, already across the room in what seems like three steps at most. He’s pulling at Izzy’s wrists—gently, so as to not inflict anymore pain on him—and doing his best to put himself in Izzy’s line of vision. Whatever expression he’s going for, it fails to hide the horror in Ed’s eyes. The guilt. It’s so obvious that Izzy thinks anyone would see it. “Look at me, Iz. What can we do?” What can I do? How can I repent?

“I don’t know,” Izzy breathes, and he means it. He doesn’t know. Everything is fire, burning him from the inside out, and his leg is pulled too tight, drawing his foot along with it. He wants nothing more than for them to leave.

“Laudanum?”

“No,” Izzy answers immediately. The shit makes everything but the pain worse, and, while it takes that away, it’s not worth it. He can’t do it. He’ll be sick for days the moment he stops taking it, and that brings about its own sort of agony.

“Rum? We’ve got great shit from that last raid.” Izzy knows that already. He’s not entirely useless like this. He can still do inventory, and he knows damn well that that rum had been squirreled away by the two Captains for better times. For celebration and not for relief, yet Ed doesn’t even wait for an answer before he goes to pull it out of its hiding place.

Izzy’s trying his best to work up some sort of response, one that’s at least half-expletives, but Stede���s rubbing up and down his arm with one hand and gently scratching at his scalp with the nails of his other. It’s enough to get him to relax some, though he tenses only seconds later as another wave of pain passes through him.

Ed comes back with the bottle in hand, and he holds it to Izzy’s lips despite the already dying protests. Izzy never has been able to deny Ed for long.

“There you go, keep going, love,” Ed says, voice so quiet and sweet that it kills Izzy a little inside. He doesn’t know how to handle this, and it’s been months since the three of them became three and not two. The pet names are something else entirely; Izzy doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to those, but it does a good job of drawing him out of his own head for a moment.

Izzy’s vaguely aware of the fact that he hasn’t stopped crying. There are new tears replacing those that he attempted to wipe away. Neither Captain draws attention to it.

“Ed, darling, trade with me?” Stede asks from above Izzy. He presses his cheek against the top of Izzy’s head before pressing a gentle kiss over the same spot. He moves then, shifting so Ed can slide in right behind him and let Izzy rest against his chest. Stede returns to the foot of the bed to once more take Izzy’s leg between his hands.

Silence passes between them, with the only exception being the tiny, hiccupping breaths and the occasional gasp from Izzy. Stede redoubles his efforts from earlier, fingers working into the meat of Izzy’s calf. Ed’s fingers find their way into Izzy’s hair, working through the strands that have grown out over the last few months. Izzy’s grumbled about a haircut more than once, but Ed’s yet to help him with it.

“I’m sorry,” Ed breathes against the top of Izzy’s head. “I’m sorry. I—” He chokes up, unable to say much else, though Izzy can imagine it would be a repetitive, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, if Izzy were to allow it.

Izzy shakes his head, unable to vocalize a response. Ed doesn’t owe him anything. He shouldn’t be in here right now. The same could be said about Stede. Izzy doesn’t need this. He can handle himself.

“You think too much,” Ed says in a quiet little whisper. He almost sounds like he could laugh, if he weren’t on the verge of shedding tears of his own.

“Ah, I’m afraid I already told him as much. He didn’t quite listen to me, though, did he?” It might have been a complaint, if Stede’s tone weren’t sickeningly fond. Izzy can barely stand it, the two of them talking over him like this, each determined to distract him from the burning in his foot and leg.

“Don’t think he ever does, mate,” and this time Ed actually does laugh. It’s a quiet, short-lived thing, but Izzy finds himself pressing closer to Ed, trying to absorb the rumble of his chest into his own being.

“What a shame,” Stede answers dramatically, but he hasn’t stopped with Izzy’s leg. It’s actually beginning to relax more and more, causing the tendons in his foot to do the same.

Izzy takes another swig from the bottle and flips the both of them his middle finger. One to share between the two. He gets laughter out of both of them. It’s—nice. The whole thing. Once you get past the burning, nauseating pain. They rarely get moments like these. With the three of them together, wrapped around each other. Izzy hates the reason behind it, but he can't bring himself to really resent the time spent with his two Captains.

#steddyhands #blackhands #stizzy #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #steddy hands #ofmd #our flag means death #stede bonnet #edward teach #blackbeard #izzy hands #israel hands #blitzwrites #blitz

[kyluxtrashpit]

So I’m having another… let’s call it an internet crisis. A thing that typically happens when I have Big Problems I can’t do fuck all about which means now it’s time to get Really Upset about problems that are comparatively small but do affect my daily routine (sorry again for no cut, I still can’t remember how to do it on mobile and I fucking hate hate hate the desktop post editor as much as someone can hate a piece of code)

It’s… getting harder to use tumblr. This isn’t about the sidebar, I don’t actually hate the sidebar cause we used to have a sidebar on the other side and I’ve missed it every since it left, but it’s about other things. A lot of things, but I won’t get into them all right now. For me, the new post editor is just. Really fucking difficult to use. If you’re just doing an unformatted, unplanned ramble (like this) or a little shitpost, it’s fine, especially if you’re on mobile (somehow the shitty mobile editor is now less shitty than the desktop editor, how tf did that happen), but if you’ve got multiple paragraphs and literally any formatting is needed? Well, you’re fucked, quite frankly, it is the most dense and convoluted post editor I’ve seen in like roughly 2 decades spent online. I’ve never seen anything more counterintuitive and difficult to use

And I’m sitting here with all these twitter posts I want to move. Some are little and would be easy. Others are a lot longer and more complicated and would shove me into that formatting hell I despise so much (and given how much feedback and unanswered asks to wip I’ve sent with no improvements, I’ve given up hope of it ever being made better). Like god I really, really want to save those posts but is it even worth it to do it here? But where else would I do it?

And the secondary layer too is… there’s no fucking posts here. No engagement on posts either most of the time. 90% of my posts come from my archive cause the kylux and Kylo (plus a few others I check less regularly) tags have very few daily posts and there’s hardly anything on my dash anymore. My original posts maybe get 10 notes on average, and these posts are ones that sometimes got near triple digit rts alone on twitter. Just seems there’s exceptionally few people here to enjoy them

And I’m still on twitter. It’s slowly dwindling but it’s still slightly more active than here. I’m on pillowfort and bsky too and they are truly dead (unless you’re a furry, good on the furries for populating every site in existence). There’s just. Nothing anymore. Maybe my fandoms are just dead but it feels like the meme about passing around the same $20 among friends cause capitalism is destroying us except with posts and likes

Idk. I feel like I don’t have an online home anymore. 90% of my socializing is online and 100% of my creativity is expressed through fandom and. I don’t know where to do that anymore. I have friends I chat with on discord and I love them but it’s… it’s not the same as a whole community, you know? And now that our homes are falling apart with every sign pointing towards imminent foreclosure like. What do I do. I know I’ve been through site losses before but. It feels different. Something new and shiny always came along before the end. I fear that’s not coming and we’ll all just be lost

Idk. I don’t have a conclusion. Twitter is doomed. I hate how the new owners are running on tumblr and I’m still posting here more out of a desperate desire to remember what community felt like than any real actual want to do so. The new sites have nothing going on. Idk. I feel lost. And maybe it’s the 15 other problems I have going on right now and hormones and shit but. I just don’t know what to do and I’m scared of what the future looks like for online communities and how alone I’ll be if I lost them (even though in reality I already have lost them aside from a small handful of people)

#am I just hormonal and stressed about things like old cat’s appointment tomorrow and work and the state of the world #with a dash of good old regular depression hanging out in there too #and that’s why duolingo fucking me over yesterday and stuff like this is bothering me #to a degree that is probably excessive #very possibly #but I also feel like this has been simmering for a while #and I just #idk man idk what to do I’m frustrated and I just want a place to shitpost about my little fictional blorbos #and have other people enjoy those posts and make their own posts and we can talk about them and everything is fun and good #and idek how to get it anymore like where are people doing that I can’t find them #idk I also need to sleep but ugh #brain land is a messy place right now let’s leave it at that #text #misc #shut up nerd #long post

[abellaheart-blog]

If you still have writer's block, I have an idea. A Fugo x Secretary!Reader scenario. Maybe after the events of Part 5, Fugo gets a higher position in Passione and gets swamped with stress and paperwork. That’s when Y/N comes in and assists him. 

((It can be Everyone Lives AU or Canon, if it matters.))

Fugo Panacotta x Secretary Reader 📑💜 Scenario

Thanks for the suggestion! Sorry this took me a while to get to. I hope you enjoy this request. This was an amazing idea. It honestly inspired me to do more Fugo content, love that guy. You have a wonderful day. Also I made this scenario based on the canon timeline.

Meme isn’t mine. Enjoy Fugo simps! I know I sure as hell did. What I wouldn’t give to marry him.

Ever since Fugo was able to prove his loyalty to Giorno he was immediately given a promotion in Passione. He was happy with the promotion but the paperwork proved to be cumbersome. His days filled with a ton of paperwork by the time he finished grueling missions. Fugo doesn’t take stress well so his anger became increasingly worse. Poor Fugo was stressed out to the max. Mista and Giorno could notice with ease. Wanting to help his friend Giorno hires him an assistant. Their job would be to do most of Fugo’s paperwork. Any signatures he would need to do or changes would be informed to him. Some of it is classified which is why Fugo would only have access to it.

When Giorno held a private meeting with Fugo the strawberry tie male was relieved. He was drinking his strawberry frappuccino with much bliss across his features. He thanked the don and asked when he would get his assistant. The blonde mafia boss laughs.

“Why right now of course. Fugo, meet Y/n she is to be your new assistant. She will be doing most of your paperwork and she will also be giving you information about your missions.” Giorno gestured beside himself.

You stood beside the don, introducing yourself to Fugo. Fugo shook your hand, understanding your new position. After a bit of discussion between the boys you’re told to start working. Fugo eventually joins you later but he’s busy looking at a file that was given to him. It was for his next mission. You grab his attention handing him two envelopes from his mailbox.

“I really need your signatures for a couple papers. They must be mailed today.”

Fugo nods grabbing the papers as well. It was nice getting handed the easy tasks. You go back to doing paperwork. He looks over to you noting the business casual outfit. He thinks the coffee mug you’re drinking out of is cute. It has painted kittens on it. He immediately finishes up the tasks you asked of him.

“You have a good day, Mr.Panacotta.”

Fugo pauses but you don’t seem to notice, too caught up in your paperwork. He’s never been addressed as such. He does have a high position in passione but he’s never been addressed so formally.

“Call me Fugo. It isn’t necessary to address me by my last name.”

“If you say so Fugo.” You smile drinking your coffee then return to work.

You’re swamped with more paperwork. He’s relieved he doesn’t have to worry about it anymore. Now he can worry about his missions alone. Fugo goes back to reading over a file with the information about his mission.

When he gets back from his long day he’s a bit tired. Not scraped up badly but a couple bruises. You left early since you finished all your work. You left behind a small folder with a sticky note telling him to look it over. He smiled at the tiny flower you drew. Inside the folder you explain all new information he is to do. In one of the pockets you mention how he must sign the papers.

You don’t see Fugo much aside from the mornings. The job is boring and feels longer than it is due to the heavy amount of paperwork. It can be annoying at times but the job pays incredibly well. You didn’t develop a friendship with Fugo until you brought him coffee one day. He was appreciative of it and you two got to talking. It was simple chat but you got to know him a bit better. He got incredibly pissed off when he spilled the coffee on his jacket. You handed him napkins and felt bad for him. The suit looked over priced and it was some bad luck. He sighed and said he didn’t have time to worry about it. He needs to spy for the don, not that you would know. When he returned that same day after his mission you left behind a strawberry danish for him and a note expressing how you think he didn’t deserve a bad day. It made his night since he got back with a stab wound to his face. It wasn’t deep but it stung. He smiled and will always remember your note.

Some days your notes would really cheer him up. He sometimes thinks of them during his mission when the moment allows him to. Somedays you’d invite him with you to lunch. Eventually they turned to dates. Fugo grew a bit awkward and bashful around you. It was certainly an improvement on him. His feelings for you really boosted his mood. Mista, Giorno, and Polnereff were happy his work load improved his mood. They realized you were the one to improve his mood when they caught him awkwardly blushing around you. All you had done was hand him an envelope before leaving for the day.

When Mista was the one to point out Fugo’s obvious awkwardness, they caught him redhanded. His face turned red and his eyes widened at his friends question. Mista laughed and wrapped his arm around him.

“So you’re into secretary’s huh? I get it. You two spend a lot of time together.”

“Of course we do, we work together.” Fugo huffed.

“Don’t ignore my question. I saw the way you looked at her. Oh? What’s this?” Mista snatches the envelope from Fugo.

“Give that back!” Fugo hissed.

“To my one and only Fugo!” Mista gasped.

Giorno’s eyes widened but he’s chuckling. Polnereff is very curious now. He would’ve never suspected Fugo to be dating his secretary. Much more juicer than his soap operas.

“It’s no wonder you’ve been in such a good mood as of late, Fugo.” Polnereff pointed out.

“Yes Fugo. A very good mood.” Giorno says.

“I can’t believe she actually wrote you a poem! She’s head over heals for you! Didn’t make much sense to me though.” Mista tosses the envelope back to his furious friend.

“Of course you wouldn’t understand a haiku.” Fugo insults out of annoyance.

“Haiku? What’s that?” Mista scratches his head in confusion. Not caring about the insult.

Fugo continues to throw insults while Mista brushes them off and continues teasing. Giorno watches with amusement while Polnereff is reading the haiku with am impressed expression. He’s thankful he managed to snatch it for himself because it was quite a romantic poem.

#thank you for your ask! #female reader #pannacotta fugo x reader #fugo x reader #fugo x y/n #meme not mine #secretary reader #request #fugo panacotta x reader #giorno giovanna #guido mista #polnareff jojo #anon ask

[areseebee]

If you’re still doing the fic writing meme, could you do POV for smoke break?

hello anon! yes, i will absolutely do more of the fic writing meme (in reference to this from a couple of weeks ago). this was a fun one btw, so thank you for asking.

here's james's POV in my derry girls fic Smoke Break, starting at the end of chapter 2 through mid-chapter 3 (or from michelle's flat to the awkward dublin conversation).

be warned, there are 2.7k largely unedited words below the cut.

It is really so fucking hot in Michelle’s flat. The one thing that James has always liked about Derry is the moderate temperatures. London was fine, too, usually. But the urban sprawl lent itself to warm summers and cold winters, and James doesn’t like to deal in extremes.

How he ended up with these four as his friends gives him some pause in this regard, but there are always exceptions to rules.

His shirt sticking sweatily to his back or not, he still would have been miserable – or something close to miserable – because Erin walked in wearing the shortest skirt. It’s just a movie night, didn’t she know it was a movie night? He thought he’d mentioned it was a movie night; he’d been tasked with renting the videos. She doesn’t seem like she knows, because that is only a skirt that he expects girls wear when they want someone to look at them in it.

He is happy to acquiesce, but he isn’t sure she wants him to. He’s never sure with her.

Anyway, the night is fine, even if it is really so hot in here, and he considers for a moment taking up smoking just to have an excuse to go outside with Erin and Michelle; it’s probably better for him to stay here with Orla and Clare anyway, he hardly ever gets to see them anymore. He still watches them from his spot on the floor, though, and he notices when Michelle slips into the neighbour’s flat and doesn’t follow Erin out.

Well, she needs company then. She’s outside all alone.

When he stands up, he feels the drinks for the first time, really feels them. He should have some water when he gets back, but it’s fine for now, it’s not too bad, it’s actually right in that sweet buzzing spot that he always wishes he could make last all night. It’s a dangerous spot; it’s easy to chase it with more drinks, trying to extend it, but that’s always a bad idea. He just has to accept that he’s feeling it now, and let it run its course to its inevitable hungover end.

But it makes it easy for him to go outside. Though, it’s probably not the drinks that make it easy to go outside. James could be stone cold sober and would still be walking this path down the stairs and around the corner.

He can’t really help himself, not with her. Maybe he had tried to stay away for the summer, had tried to convince himself it would be better that way, not to disrupt where his life was now, but it was probably inevitable to end up back here, in Derry. Even if he hadn’t lost his flat, he probably still would have landed here, once he knew that Erin wouldn’t be staying in Belfast. He couldn’t help himself.

She doesn’t seem surprised to see him, thank God. Or, if she is, she still seems pleased. She’s always seeming pleased when he shows up anywhere she’s at these days. It’s been making him think – well, it’s been making him think a lot of things. Things that he probably shouldn’t be thinking.

It seems like she really likes to have him around, and if she’s going to let him then he’s not going to miss out. But it sort of keeps surprising him. He thought she’d tell him to stop coming into her work by, like, the third time he did it, but she never did. And once when he’d missed a day, she seemed almost mad, accusatory. Well, if she was going to act that way about it then it really made everything very simple. He never missed a day after that.

He has to stop himself wondering all the time if it means something. Because it’s Erin, and things don’t seem to mean what he thinks they mean with her. She’ll say something, and he’ll think – 

She looks at him a lot these days. He catches her. And that probably says just as much about him because he wouldn’t be catching her if he wasn’t looking too.

He’s not sure if it’s because he’s been gone for so long, but things feel different. Like maybe she –

He hates that she’s actually out here smoking, but he gets it. It’s different when you’re drinking. He hates that she smokes those fucking things, but it’s kind of mesmerizing to watch it, the way she’s so delicate when she lifts it up to her mouth.

She’s really crap at blowing smoke rings, but it gives him an excuse to look at her mouth.

God, he’s blitzed. It’s more than he thought, but he’s just trying to focus, focus on her. It’s easy. Especially when she’s saying that she likes his hair even though Michelle keeps telling him it's minging like this. He wonders what it would feel like to have her hands in it.

She’s looking at him. He can tell he should be saying something, she’s looking at him like he should be saying something, but all he can think about is that he doesn’t really have anything to say, even though he does, he has so much to say. He has so much to say, but he can’t just say it.

He hates that she smokes, but he really likes that he gets this time with her – separate, apart. A few minutes when it’s just them. He likes that it means she gets to be here with him right now, her cheeks looking so pink and she’s just looking at him, and he’s looking back. And when she parts her lips – she’s going to say something, he really shouldn’t do this, it’s rude – all he can think about is how pretty they are.

And then he’s done it. He’s kissed her. He’s kissed her, and it’s been a year and, like, seven weeks exactly since he last kissed her, but it’s the first time he’s ever kissed her like this. And maybe he shouldn’t be doing this, but the more he does it, the more it feels like letting out an exhale he’d been holding in since he saw her the first time again.

Maybe he shouldn’t be doing this, but she’s doing it right back, and she’s making it really hard for him to be kind and not press her too hard up against the wall behind her. She’s doing this thing with her hands in his hair – it feels as good as he thought it would – and he can feel the hem of her skirt from where it’s touching the thigh he has wedged between her legs (God, the thought –) and she’s making these noises and he just wants to touch everywhere. But at least he can keep himself from doing that. He’s drunk, but he’s not that –

The thought doesn’t even finish because he hears “Erin?” and oh God, oh fuck, that’s Clare and this was such a bad, such a very bad – and Erin is pulling away, thank God, because he needs a second. What if she stays? What if Clare stays out here, and what if – well, he’s mostly annoyed because he wasn’t done yet.

He manages to make an appearance, and fortunately Clare goes back inside, which is good because James just wants to touch again. Which he does.

And then Erin is urging him to stop, but why stop? Why stop when she’s breathing out his name like that, like they’re not just snogging, like they’re –? Except she’s saying it again, and it registers as insistent and that is enough for him to stop.

He’s breathless and – and giddy and this is just the best, except – well she’s not really looking at him. She’s tugging awkwardly at her clothes like she wishes there was more to them, and she’s not looking at him. It’s ok, it’s probably for the best, he needs to get himself together.

She tries to reach up and touch him once, and he jerks back, and feels immediately bad about it, but, like – it would just be better if she didn’t.

Anyway, it’s starting to become distracting that she’s not looking at him, and it’s sobering – like actually sobering. And that’s when the anxiety sets in because she won’t look at him, and she seems, like, really uncomfortable and oh fuck, he really fucked this.

She didn’t ask him to come out here, she didn’t tell him to – he followed her out, she was just minding her own business until he – and they’ve been drinking and, God, how did he go from talking to this? He’d only been thinking about – well he knew what he’d been thinking about, but what feels more important was what he wasn’t thinking about which was whether or not she even wanted him to do this, any of this.

He has to say something, apologize. And so he does. And she says it’s ok, and she does finally look at him, but it doesn’t feel right, not at all. She still sits close to him when they go back inside, but it’s just not right.

He has trouble falling asleep that night. He’s so intensely aware that Erin is just there, like a foot away from him in bed. He should have just slept in the living room with Orla, but he’d remembered the bugs and he hadn’t been thinking (again) and now he was in here, so the most he could do was turn his back.

The next morning he is as hungover as he expected, but only half of it feels like the alcohol. When Clare tells him about her travel plans, she asks him when he’s going to come visit her, and “What about now?” just falls out of his mouth. She’s really pleased, and her ma will be happy to see him too, she’s got all sorts of things planned, but she won’t be able to take off work if that’s ok with him.

Fine, fine with him – he just needs to get out. He’ll only go to Dublin for a couple of days, but it’ll be good because he doesn’t think he can have the conversation yet with Erin. The conversation that he needs to have with her. And it’s the right thing to do to remove himself for a little bit. God, she couldn’t even look at him.

And when he’s in Dublin, he thinks all the time that it was a good idea. For the first couple of days, he knows it’s a good idea. They’re sightseeing, and when Clare is at work, James walks around on his own for hours which is great at first until he starts realizing that he’s cataloging all of the things he thinks Erin would like to do when she visits Clare later that summer. Like, has she ever seen Trinity Library? She would love it there, he keeps thinking she’d love it there.

At a certain point, like around day three, he starts to think morosely that he’s only putting off the inevitable.

And Clare keeps asking him weird questions, like if he’s seeing anyone in London. Or seeing anyone not in London. And he’s not really sure why she keeps asking because the answer is always no – she’d know already if it weren’t.

It’s day five when Clare asks him pointedly how much longer he’s planning to stay – he suspects he’s probably usurped someone else’s spot in her flat, someone who he knows he’ll hear all about as soon as Clare is ready to tell – and he buys his bus ticket back.

When he gets back home, he calls Michelle which he knows is probably pointless because she’s never home, but maybe he’ll catch her and he can just go see her instead of Erin. But it’s what he suspected – she doesn’t answer – and so he figures he’s got no other options left.

He steels himself to walk in the door for way longer than he should, and when he finally walks in she’s not even there at the front. He almost takes a step in the direction of the back – he knows she’s back there – but he stops, and finally just sits at the bar to wait.

He hears Michelle before he sees her, but his eyes are for Erin. Who is hardly even looking at him again. Oh God, he did really fuck it. Fuck.

It’s weird, but Michelle’s talking at least, until all of a sudden she’s leaving and, finally, Erin looks at him. She starts to talk, and she sounds fine, it feels fine, but he’s not sure he should be relieved, or if this is just a precursor to something else, something worse.

Even so, he needs to talk to her, and he’s glad when she says he can walk her home. It’s awkward, it’s so awkward – how does he even begin to start talking about this? So he takes up the first thread she offers.

He knows what he wants to say: he knows he messed up, he’s sick at the thought that she would feel like she needed to avoid him for any reason, he knows that she doesn’t want something with him, anything with him – she’s made that very clear – and he should never have tried to act any differently, to push any boundaries.

But he can only say it the way he’s saying right now, talking nonsense about Dublin. How the fuck did he start talking about Dublin, and he’s losing the thread of it – was she supposed to be Dublin, or…?

He finally gets it all out, says all the things he wants to say, and he’s preparing himself for what she’s going to say next. If she needs more time, whatever, whatever she wants.

And then she says – wait, what did she just say?

There is no fucking way she just said what he thought she said.

It feels out of body, the way he manages to say “I’d want that too.” He cannot believe the words are coming out of his mouth so easily like this.

But then she’s staring at him, open-mouthed, and he wants to scream at himself because all of a sudden he’s worried that he’s fucking this up again in real time. Had he learned absolutely nothing?

He’s misunderstood again, but he’s not going to leave, he’s going to fix it right now. He wants her to know – nothing serious. Like, really. If she’s saying what he thinks she’s saying, then he’s on board, and she doesn’t have to worry. Whatever she wants. She can kiss him again, that is fine, that is totally fine. If that’s what she wants.

He gets it. They’re 19. It’s ok. He gets it. It sounds nice, it sounds fun. He knows, he’s known for a long time, why she wouldn’t want anything more. They’re 19. Is this what she wants?

It is. She’s agreeing. It is. And James’s brain feels like it has just broken, the way he feels stunned like this while simultaneously trying to figure out how he can contrive for this to happen as soon as humanly possible.

He could kiss her right now, he could – he could invite her over. Deidre’s out. He already knows. She’s at work. And, God, he should really be embarrassed about this, stumbling over himself like this. And he needs to be careful. Because he’d said “nothing serious,” and he needed to act like nothing serious or he was going to scare her again, she was going to see right through him. She probably already could, but that – well that was just going to have to be ok with him because he can’t help it, not around her.

He can’t believe she’s saying yes, she never says yes to him. But maybe this was the key all along – nothing serious. He’s always asked, “do you want to?” and her response has always been “someday,” but maybe someday wasn’t ever coming, not the way he’d thought about it.

But that – that was ok. Because she’s agreeing. Like it’s nothing. 

Because it is nothing. Nothing serious. He has to remember that.

#ask #derry girls #derry girls fic #smoke break #erin quinn #james maguire #jerin #james x erin #erin x james #my fic #ask game

[imrryr]

“post the last few lines of your WIP" meme, courtesy of @stealthnoodle. Anyone who wants to do this absolutely should! :)

So I can’t post the last few lines because this doc I’m working on today is a giant mess of completed scenes, unconnected paragraphs, and random sentences that I typed in the vain hope that I can fit them in somewhere later, but here are two as yet unconnected bits of a scene from a Mass Effect Femshep/Jack story I’ve been working on for the past 84 years.

For context, it takes place on the Citadel in a sliver of time just before Priority: Earth. Shepard, Jack, and Zaeed have joined a tournament at the Armax arena while the Normandy is being refitted. The hard part has been trying to keep a humorous tone while all sentient life in the galaxy is being methodically wiped out by the Reapers ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

She’d never liked hospitals. Who did? Lots of judgmental doctors and nurses telling you where to go and what to do and who not to throw a shockwave at. Like sorry, but that fucking Cerberus trooper they had under guard fucking deserved it. Recognized that asshole from Grissom…

Anyway, this time she kept her hands firmly clasped behind her back and patiently ignored everyone who looked at her sideways until she found the door she was searching for.

And there was Zaeed, lying on a bed with his injured foot propped up on a pillow. Every free inch of his room, the wall, the tables, the chairs, was covered in bright flowers. The sight brought a big smile to her lips. It had to be Shepard’s doing.

He lay there, looking out the window and seemingly oblivious to the utter absurdity of his surroundings.

Unable to find a place to sit, Jack settled for the edge of the bed.

“Hey, careful,” he grumbled. He slid his foot, protected inside an enormous cast, as far away from Jack as possible.

She would’ve apologized, but eh...

Instead, Jack nodded in lieu of a greeting as she looked out on the Presidium. Hospitals still sucked, but she had to admit that Huerta Memorial had a pretty sweet view. The window made up one entire side of the room, and the gentle curving arc of the Presidium stretched out before her.

A minute passed. Things got quiet. She’d spoken to Zaeed alone a few times back in the good old suicide mission days. He’d wisely kept his mouth shut that first time she’d come on board – said nothing about her tattoos or what she chose to wear, and never once asked about any of the more prickly bits of her past life (i.e. any of it).

All taken together, it had elevated him to a spot on her ‘only kill if he gets in my way’ list.

When it was just the two of them, they tended to talk about… well, take a guess. It wasn’t horticulture. She frowned, scratching the back of her hand. Today was clearly proving to be a very strange day. “When’s the operation?”

Zaeed grumbled. “Tomorrow morning. Told them it’d better be over by nightfall. Don’t want to miss the match.”

“Really excited to see us lose, huh?”

“You’d better not. I’ve got fifty thousand credits on that match. Who’s replacing me anyway?”

“Some asari chick. Supposed to be famous on Thessia or something, I don’t know.”

“Huh. She any good?”

Jack shrugged. “If she isn’t, Shepard and I will just have to carry the weight ourselves. Nothing we haven’t done before.”

Zaeed grunted. “You’re real goddamn hilarious, you know that?”

(snip)

“Can I ask you something?”

His eyes – well, the good one at least – went wide as if that innocuous question alone had blown his mind.

Still, Jack pressed on. There wasn’t, after all, anyone else she could think to put the question to. “If you asked Shepard out, where would you take her?”

Surprisingly, the answer came without a second’s hesitation. “Easy. ‘This One’s House of Plentiful Amusements. It’s that new Hanar comedy club down on Zakeera Ward.’”

“A comedy club? Really?”  

“Yeah, I figure once I asked her out, she wouldn’t stop laughing for a good three or four hours. Might as well take her someplace appropriate, right?”

She let out a long breath. What was this, Give Sarcastic Advice to Jack Day? Gritting her teeth, she asked, “And what if it was me?”

“Uh…” he visibly swallowed, “No offense, but you’re not my type.”

Fuck you, Zaeed. “No, where would I take her out?”

“Oh.” His brow furrowed. “Don’t know? Someplace with a lot of goddamned explosions, I guess. Or, judging from a year of experience, just follow her around for a day and the explosions will come to you.”

Jack hummed in thought. True enough, she thought.

“You know,” he continued, “these painkillers must be really damned powerful, because I could swear that you’re asking me for relationship advice.”

Ugh. “Forget I said anything.”

Zaeed ignored her. “Everyone’s gone fucking respectable. Kasumi’s working on the Crucible, Garrus is a military advisor, and look at you, I bet you haven’t crashed a space-station into a moon in at least a month.”

Jack rolled her eyes. “No, but I’ve thought about it,” she said with a laugh. As far as the Citadel was concerned it might be an improvement. The trick would be finding a large enough moon.

“And me, I’m sittin’ here with my thumb up my ass.”

“It’s probably too late to be having a mid-life crisis, Zaeed.”

“It’s this goddamned bed,” he said, grunting as he tried to sit up. “Gives a man too much time to think. Damned nurse took away my omni-tool. He said ‘Towers of Hanoi‘ was going to give me an aneurysm.”

“Hmm. I’ll give Kasumi a call, maybe she can hook you up with something.”

He nodded, relieved. “Look,” he said, that good eye fixed on her. “I think you should do whatever keeps the team together. When Shepard puts something together, nothing in galaxy can stop it. Only way I see us winning this fucking war.” He stretched, adding in a yawn for good measure. “Besides, I’m hoping if Shepard lets me stick around long enough she’ll hook me up with a pension plan.”

Yeah, thanks, Zaeed. The sad thing was she could picture Shepard fighting the Alliance to set something like that up. A second suicide mission to rival the first.

“Haven’t had this much fun in years. Blowing shit up and feeling like a hero afterwards? Not used to that. Feels good, you know what I mean?”

Jack sighed. Yeah. It wasn’t the worst feeling in the world.

She could only think of one thing that would make it better.

#myr's fanfiction #mass effect #femshack #femshep x jack #wow this was long #but eh #the story is like 37000 words so far

[silvcrignis]

@manufactoredxbyxdesign ♛

@manufactoredxbyxdesign Punky’s out here throwing you to the WOLVES, they just made a lucky choice because I’m a favourite player lmfao.

{Meme}: [ ♛ ] send me your url and i'll tell you the following; {x}

My opinion on;

Character in general: It’s so sad that I have nar actually played a single Resident Evil Game (I used to watch my dad play them back when I was a smol) or touched a single DBD match but somehow still ended up hyper fixated on this character bc not only was he EVE R Y WHERE back when I was a kid he was my like favourite type of shitbag smarmy over confident character hdhghg I would probably write Albert Wesker if I had the confidence or the complete lore knowledge to hfhgh the perfect live action FC already exists for him thanks to Buffy 😭

How they play them: Hgdhgnh I’ve told them this personally but they’re soooo good, like I hear Albert’s voice when they post something??? Like I love him, a lot of people love uwuing softening villains & I’m like bro they’re fucking evil they may have tender moments or people they are softer with but that’s an EVIL hoe, stop pretending they didn’t do nothin’ wrong. He’s written so MEAN & I fucking adore that, it’s the same way I portray my Severus Snape bc that man has called his own spouse a fucking FOOL before & that’s. My. T y p e, Like I need them to understand I’m not just saying this bc they gave my shit stain gremlin girl a chance (okay maybe a little bc this place has burnt me many times b u t) I’m saying this because I genuinely don’t think they realise just how GOOD they portray this nasty snarky PHD wielding grifter man 😭

The mun: Hurt them & feel the sting of my blade, I swear to God, I will break into your home at 3:37 AM & slather cream cheese & onions on the inside of your pillowcases if I find out you ever legitimately hurt their feelings. Like I was so scared to follow them bc their writing was really on point & canon character blogs be acting stank as hell here especially to me bc Keira isn’t an easy™️ OC girl. & like idc if someone roasts me but I will r I d e for my squad, especially the ones who put up with my ridiculous spammy bullshit like they do hhhhh they deserve better than some of the absolutely manic posts I send them fr fr but I usually make up for my transgressions by sliding them the gud Albertcore.

Do I;

Follow them: I do, I followed their second blog @lxdyvenxm so fucking fast when I saw their post it gave me whiplash ghhgbhjn

RP with them: Of course I do, I have to stick all the pale haired tsunderes together in one spot though Al is a low-key yandere wearing the tsundere skin tbch but he’s deffo part of the club.

Want to RP with them: I… I need Keira to leave this man alone bc every time I get a new idea for Keira the DBD verse her first thought is “What would Albert think about it~🖤🖤🖤?” Yeah she’s a lil obsessio over him but I’M normal hfhgh I don’t want them to think I’m a weird stalker like I don’t want into Albert Wesker’s pants this CREATURE is the one who does!!!!

Ship their character with mine: The concept of them together is terrifying & I mean BOTH Keira & Albert & uhhh the other two shinies (YOU KNOW WHO grhfghf) like they would put the “Power” in the would power couple before some crazy shit starts going down in that Fog… So yeah I do, I want them holding hands while those hands are covered in blood… Because they’re making out while stabbing a person. While holding the same knife. Little known fact about me I fucking LOVE murder couples, especially where one’s a little more fucked up than the other but the other isn’t bothered by that instead they use their slightly calmer head to plan out some REALLY fucked up ideas for them to do together.

What is my;

Overall opinion: Send a long text get a long text ba- Oh wait wait that’s like summin different. Follow them. Love them. Ask about their headcanons bc their headcanons are really good & so fascinating??? Let Albert dismember & bully your muse, Keira wants to film him throwing around their body parts everywhere with the tentacles pls she said it’ll be super funny~~~~

**Note: Mun’s answer are all to be completely honest. Don’t send url if you don’t want brutal honesty.

#x: Look At My Friends! (Promo) #x: Answered #x: Out of Sin #manufactoredxbyxdesign #lxdyvenxm #Not Punky blindsiding us both halp 😭😭😭 #GGHFHUHJJH SO SNEAKY FUCKIN RUDE LMFAO

[unluckyuncle]

PERMANENT RELATIONSHIP CALL - DONALD DUCK

Hello there! You wanna be friends with this son of a duck? I mean look at that face, he's a totally lovable guy! Lord knows he needs friends he spends most of his free time alone on a ship for Pete's sake.

Anyways, this is a call to anyone who I’ve threaded with, or would like to thread in the future! By liking the post, it’ll signal to me that you’re interested in having a long standing relationship with Donald. This can/will include stuff like:

- Sending specific memeing or prompts (all my ask answers are always open for reply if you want to ^^ )

- Priority in reply postings/starter calls (will ask for an Icon!)

- Plotting for just about anything, I’ll either message you or you can message me if you have an idea. I don’t mind receiving random starters, though I will definitely message if I have an idea for something LOL

- Placement/updates on his Relationships page

- And just generally having a good time with a duck man

I’ll likely be selective about that when it comes to who i’m interested in going more in depth with, specifically if we haven’t threaded before. If you’d like to get something started, I’ll reach out to you about it!

Of course, this is not required to thread with him at all! This is partially an interest check for ideas in the future, and partially a organizational tool for me since Donalds my busiest blog. All of it is meant for fun!

Below are some details about the kind of relationships Donald could have with your muse! Thank ya so much for taking interest!

Oh dang you’re serious! Cool! Anyways, here’s the deets:

The most common one will likely be a Father Figure type to your muse. Have some parental issues? Well look no further than a duck who’s a pretty gosh dang good father all things considered. Whether your father is dead, or possibly wants you dead here’s a lovely man to suit the void in your muses’ soul. He will not hesitate to adopt just about anyone. Usually just metaphorically... but also...

We could also have a bit of a Mentor/Mentee relationship. Basically being more of a classic Uncle Donald type where he’ll offer his support whenever it is needed. This has more of a focus on teaching, however, it ropes in with the previous dynamic. This would be applicable if you’d ever want to work on Donalds ship too as an apprentice. I think it’s fun for him to pass on his adventuring wisdom too.

Maybe your muse has a healthy relationship with their living parents (that sounds unrealistic) and just needs a pal. Donald can just be a Casual and/or Close Friend! He does drink, though not a lot, and can do just about anything that’s normal. To those who are closer to his age he’ll happily show kindness to (he might still be a little bit of a dad anyways. He can’t help himself ok).

There’s also the possibility of being a Rival, Enemy, or a Foil to be used by other characters to inflict pain... which seems unlikely but I can dream can’t I? It takes a whole lot to get on his bad side, but if your muse happens to choose to hurt others, then yeah Donalds gonna do what he can to stop ya. This one would be more of a ‘plotting’ thing especially, but I’m just putting it out that I am open to it. You’ll have to message me for this one, though.

For purpose of fairness, anyone is welcome to Adopt Him to. LOL he probably won’t even realize that he’s been adopted, but if you would like to care for the duck... yeah, he’s been super touched starved lately ngl. It’s super easy for him to overwork himself, or overstress himself and well, he’s just a little too independent for his own good. Being a single dad to three kids at 25 will do that to ya.

For the record, I’m not interested in shipping with anyone who isn’t named Daisy Duck, for no other reason than they’re literally perfect for each other in the series... ignore the fact I put his canon point back before her intro. Point is, being romantically involved is off the table, but if Ducks are your thing, I’m cool with him being flirted to LOL (he’s also just not really looking for it? If you need some relationship advice though... he’ll do his best??)

Last thing, you don’t have to message me with which one you want either (except for the enemy one)!! This is just a general list of what I’m open to, but if you want to do something that’s not on the list that’s a-ok with me to! Donalds a versatile character, so just about any and all things could apply to him. Plus for most muses, I kind of already have a sense of what he thinks of ‘em. 

Thanks for getting this far though! I’m really really excited about this ^^ that’s all I’ve got for now! May update this later, but I’ve been sitting on it for several months now, and now feels as good of a time as any to start rolling the ball.

#I'm so excited to work on his relationships page! #I love having the pictures uvu #( . ooc . ) // quack quack quack ⚓༄⋆｡°்⋆ #( . open thread . ) // ⚓༄⋆｡°்⋆ #( . queue . ) // swimming on in ⚓༄⋆｡°்⋆

[griim]

KNOWING YOUR PARTNER WELL CAN POTENTIALLY MAKE WRITING TOGETHER A LOT EASIER. REPOST DO NOT REBLOG !!

NAME:Kai PRONOUNS: They/Them/Theirs (However She can be used on my more feminine days)  PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION: Discord (which is given to mutuals who ask.

NAME OF MUSE(s): Gemma Elizabeth Harding / Reynolds

EXPERIENCE/HOW LONG (MONTHS / YEARS?): Rping for fifteen years, and on Tumblr on and off for nine 9 years. 

BEST EXPERIENCE: Well, when I first started Tumblr as an OC I met someone and we became hella close. And over the years they helped me through the loss of family and coming out as my true self. Then when I met them in person for the first time, they were the maid of honor at my wedding! To this day we are really close (this has been going for 9+ years) and we are planning to hang out again soon! But also meeting Vesta on here ( @/midnitemission).

RP PET PEEVES/DEALBREAKERS:

When people try to white knight my character. Like I get it you see a 5′3 woman and think you, a male need to save her. But like no, you don’t, really. She can defend herself and usually does. It bothers me when female canon and OC’s get thought of as weaker just because they are a woman. Women aren’t always weak and in need of your defending, so, please for the love of all that is good, don’t do that here.

When people bug me for replies and that is the only time you talk to me. Like I get you are excited and stuff but PLEASE remember I am human and sometimes the muse isn’t there, and sometimes I just don’t want to write anything. Not only that but like everything gets queued for the most part, and when I get bothered about it constantly it makes me not want to reply to it. 

This is a big one for me, but when people believe that just because Gemma has done work for HYDRA (without her knowledge might I add.) That she or I support HYDRA, because that’s bull. We don’t and never will. HYDRA is manipulative and wouldn’t just out themselves to a Merc let alone anyone. And if Gemma knew what was going down she wouldn’t take the job. Like, I know HYDRA were bad people, and I don’t say Gemma constantly works for / with them. And in the verses she does; 1. She's a doll, she has no choice, like Bucky didn’t. 2. She was broken and HYDRA manipulated that. 

When people do not read my rules, they are there for a reason and I do not like when people break them. It shows you have no respect for me / my blog. 

When people don’t return the effort or at least try to return the effort in a reply. Now I am not saying you need to match me, by no means, because I get wordy as fuck. But I don’t like seeing just three sentences if I gave a long reply. I just want something to work with you know? 

MUSE PREFERENCES FLUFF, ANGST OR SMUT:   Out of these, I prefer angst and I will do smut and fluff but only with characters Gemma has built up with. Otherwise Gemma has a hard time with emotions and the emotions of others. Once she’s broken down her walls and shit, she will be more open to those things. BUT one that isn’t on this list, I love action / adventure. Like put Gemma in a thread where she is kicking ass and taking names or out to kill you PLEASE! I love those threads. 

PLOTS OR MEMES: I love both! Because sometimes I struggle to plot but Meme’s come easy and then the other way around happens! 

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES: Any length really, though I tend to write more because I am wordy most of the time. 

BEST TIME TO WRITE: Usually right when I wake up or late in the evening/night. 

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S): Kind of, except I dont kick ass I just have the trauma and the same music taste and sexuality. 

Tagged by: @justacomedy Tagging: Anyone who wants to do this <3 

#009. ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴀɴᴅʟᴇʀ ꜱᴘᴇᴀᴋꜱ ║Mun Post║

[violetueur-archive]

GRAVE SUGGESTIONS ASK MEME » ACCEPTING

@kunokata​ asked:  ‘  some days it’s easier to just stop fighting it  &  succumb.  ’ + ‘  sometimes,  you’ll find it hard to keep going,  but you always will.  ’ ( mmmm pain- )

It’s an unexpectedly heavy sentiment, coming from the flame hashira himself ( someone she, admittedly, admires ) and Nicolette does not take for granted the way it sounds like a confession, almost. He seems to be speaking from experience, and her heart breaks for him. ❝ Are you sure you’re talking about me? ❞ It’s her best attempt at turning the attention back on him, but he does not bite. He leaves her no room to escape, as the words are not said for his sake— they are said for hers, and that only makes her wish to turn away and refuse them. She cannot stand the way they cling to her, or the knowing look in his wide eyes that says ❛ I understand ❜, because he doesn’t. How can he? 

People love him. People ADORE him. He’s the man that puts everyone at ease just by breathing. He’s had parents that cherished him, and family that he can still turn to. He’s not alone. Not like she is. Has Kyojuro ever felt so unwanted, so utterly worthless, as she has? Has he ever had to come face to face with the realization that any care for his wellbeing comes from his position as a demon slayer, and nothing more? Has he had to fight tooth and nail from adolescence just for the opportunity to live? The blood on her hands remains, the only evidence of the first choice she every truly made for herself— perhaps it was the only one. Even that decision to go to Final Selection, wasn’t truly her own. Fighting and killing demons, that was never her choice, yet it was the only thing she knew how to do, in the end.

How could he understand any of that?

So much of her life has been filled with pain. Nicolette thought for a long time that it was undeserved, but maybe she was wrong. Maybe she was meant to be hurt. She’s a bad person, isn’t she? Even now, she’s thinking such awful, cruel things about a man who has been nothing but good and kind to her. To everyone. All at his own expense. What does she even know about him, really? He’s as much of an enigma as she is, and yet it’s so easy to assume she understands him, just because he wears a kind smile so easily. She doesn’t. She doesn’t know him at all... she doesn’t even know herself.

❝ I don’t know... ❞ It’s a whisper, one she doesn’t even realize is coming from her own lips until she speaks again, ❝ I don’t know if I can. ❞ It hurt so much. This loneliness. This anger. She’s exhausted, frankly, but how can she say any of that to someone whos’ working twice as hard? He’s not broken like her, is he? He knows how to love others, and how to be loved, in return. He’s the man with the weight of the world on his shoulders, and yet here she is, ready to crumble of the weight of her own worthlessness. She’s weak, isn’t she? No matter how hard she works, how strong she gets, she’s only human, at the end of the day.

She wants to be loved. She wants to be cherished. She wants to be held. She wants to be comforted. But she doesn’t know how to accept it.

Isn’t that pathetic? 

❝ It’s funny... I could have my arm cut off and probably laugh it off without much problem, but— ❞ The wry smile on her face is hallow, and it does not reach her eyes. She cannot meet his gaze, either. ❝ Everything else... it feels fucking impossible to endure. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that, though. ❞ Another attempt to deflect, but it’s not nearly as manipulative as the first time. The bitter understanding with which it is said, is sincere. She wants to tell him she wants to give up. That she’s tired. That it hurts. Yet, the words do not come. Selfish as she is, Nicolette can’t bring herself to seek the comfort she’s so desperate for— not from him. After all, while she might agonize over being alone, Kyojuro suffers from something she will never understand.

He’s the man that saves everyone. The man that everyone looks towards. Always prepared to put on a smile and speak kinds words, if only to put others’ hearts at ease. He does not ask for help. He doesn’t ask to be saved. Maybe in some strange way, he feels alone too. She cannot bear to put the weight of her suffering onto him, as everyone else does, just as he is unlikely to share his burdens with her. She can’t blame him. Why would anyone trust their heart to someone like her, anyway?

❝ I guess it doesn’t really matter, though, does it? People like us... we don’t have the luxury of giving up when it gets tough, do we? There’s no choice but to keep going, so there’s no point in worrying about it, right? ❞

#kunokata #[ UUUUUHHH UMMM FUCK ] #[ I GOT SO CARRIED AWAY ] #[ MORE SAD NICOLETTE INTROSPECTION MY CHEST HURTS SO BAD ] #[ WHAT THE FUCK!!! THEY'RE HURTING ME BRO ] #↳ ASKS ❛ since you’re lookin i’ll put on a fuckin show ❜ #↳ VERSE ; KNY: SLAYER || ❛ every time i break theres just more pain to burn ❜ #long post

[romancemoon]

✨ ❝shh.❞ 🌙 stephen & vi.

✨ @bruisedconscience asked 🌙 “Real healing is hard; it doesn’t always look pretty.” meme. still accepting!

As the season started to change, and for most of the time he spent not working, Virote was cooped up in his room, communication to the outside world cut out. His confinement was more than welcomed, he thought, although he soon missed the evening video calls with his family—which he took as a reassuring sign that the anhedonia was beginning to crack. What he found difficult was a self-insistence on a routine outside of his job—on social reengagement. Getting out of bed in the morning and answering texts, eating breakfast at his favorite spot next door, choosing from a menu for lunch, taking a walk in public—simple things which in life we do every day—were for Virote giant steps, comparable to walking from California to Rhode Island.

Cutting himself off from Stephen hurt the most; but, it was a needed distance. He didn’t want him to see him like... This. A nearly catatonic, shaking mess. He was distant until he wasn’t. Stephen was probably busy, anyway. Did Stephen even care that much? Virote didn’t know, sometimes. But, he was timid in his approach.

                              ( txt. | 💗 'stache bae. ) can you come over? are you mad at me? i’ve been so by myself... i needed some time to be alone. i’m sorry. i’m sorry, do you still like me?

                              ( txt. | 💗 'stache bae. ) do you think i’m a bad person... i tried so hard to keep myself togther, but it’s been so difficult. do you think i’m a bad person?

                              ( txt. | 💗 'stache bae. ) if you do, i’m sorry.

Stephen came quicker than he actually anticipated. And, was more forgiving than he expected; he was soothing, he sat at Virote’s bedside and stroked his hair. Virote almost passed out from how overwhelming it was. That kind of affection was devastating. Who else could comfort him like that? Stephen said a lot of reassuring things. Reassuring and grounding. And, he was right. Healing wouldn’t always be pretty. It wasn’t a flowery, easy process. It was something Virote needed to hear.

Funny, since he made a career of telling other people the same thing.

❝You’re so special,❞ he said, finally breaking his silence. Stephen looked like a ray of light from where he was in bed. ❝And, you’re right... Healing isn’t pretty. I’m sorry for being so, uh. Dramatic. I should stop being like that.❞ Reaching up, he ghosted a hand along Stephen’s face, pulling away as his index finger traced the contour of his jawline. ❝So sweet. You’re so sweet, Stephen. Every time I’m around you, I feel a little stronger. You’re not annoyed with me, are you?❞

#( 🌙 MAIN! IT'S YOUR LOCAL MAGICAL BOY & DEMIGOD. ✨ ) #bruisedconscience #/ oh.... arent they sweet....

[feistyvampire]

@moraypower said: “Nah, I don’t feel like sleeping!” | meme

“It’s like…” He has to check the time to be sure, raising a brow at her, “Three am. I didn’t think squids were nocturnal?”

Then again, he didn’t know much about marine life in general, let alone one that wasn’t like the average squid. It wasn’t exactly his area of expertise.

“Anyway, don’t try to keep up with me— I’m always up late, it kind of comes with the vampire thing. If you need sleep just go to bed, please?”

He isn’t keen on someone staying up potentially just because he’s still awake, but there’s always later to hang out so he’s going to try to get her to consider at least a nap! It’d be better then nothing… right? But knowing already a little about how stubborn she was from the tree climbing incident, he doesn’t think it’ll be as easy as just asking her to do it.

#moraypower #ic; #meme answers;

[uptonogoodindiememes]

One Tree Hill Sentence Meme - Sad Songs for Dirty Lovers

“Amazing how fast they grow up, isn’t it?”

“Don’t forget, I gotta get fitted for my tux today,”

“I gotta ask you something, and I really don’t want you to get pissed off, but I have to ask you,”

“Why the long face?”

“I don’t think I can do this,”

“I think maybe it’s not such a good idea that we’re dating,”

“Nice fit for a rental,”

“You're buying me a tuxedo?”

“I wasn’t sure you’d want to see me,”

“To be honest, I wasn’t sure I was coming,”

“It’s easy in here, I have a support team to help me stay sober, but out there, alone, I’m not sure I can trust myself,”

“Just promise me you won’t do anything that stupid again, okay?”

“What do you mean you got fired?”

“I got to be honest, today I kinda lied to you,”

“For the record, I didn’t come here to fight,”

“I just need to know what you need from me to make this work,”

“So this is how it's going to be? You’re just gonna ignore me?”

“This feels like a date,”

“If you need anything, and I mean anything at all, I want to be the mad you turn to,”

“I am really sorry about this morning, I should never have doubted you,”

“I figured I got you into this so. . . I wanted to get you out,”

“I know it’s my fault. . . I’m sorry,”

“I look at you, and it hurts so much that we can’t be to gether,”

“From the moment I saw you, I was hooked,”

“I got to look into those beautiful eyes and kiss you, and now that’s all I wanna do, I could kiss you forever, but I know I’m not good enough,”

“I’ve done some things I’m really not proud of,”

“Don’t call me. . . if you really like me, just. . . let me go,”

“I thought you said you wanted to wait,”

“I want everything with you,”

“Where’s the new boyfriend?”

“If you could go back and change just one thing about your life, would you?”

#open starter #indie rp starter #rp starter #roleplay meme #One Tree Hill #Padfoot