working on making icons ------ like for a starter (message me if you'd like to plot/or want a specific muse)

oozey mess
KIROKAZE
art blog(derogatory)
wallacepolsom
we're not kids anymore.

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Origami Around
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let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

ellievsbear

★

blake kathryn
YOU ARE THE REASON
Today's Document
noise dept.

Kaledo Art
Game of Thrones Daily
Peter Solarz
Claire Keane
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@confractxm
working on making icons ------ like for a starter (message me if you'd like to plot/or want a specific muse)
consider the following aus
"we wore matching halloween costumes to this party" au
"we’re the only ones who didn’t get the email about class being canceled" au
"tried to get the candy bar that didn’t drop out of the vending machine and now my hand is stuck can u help me out" au
"we’re the only ones on campus who didn’t go home for christmas" au
"we both got in separate bar fights downtown and now we’re waiting in the ER comparing stories" au
"accidentally fell in your lap while standing on this crowded bus" au
"can u help me sneak my cat into my dorm" au
"accidentally got assigned the same library study room so I guess we’ll have to share for the semester" au
"It’s raining and u forgot your umbrella so come over and stand under mine while we wait for the bus" au
"I rented the apartment above your flower shop and in the last two months you’ve gotten a new flower I’m allergic to so I keep buying bouquets until I can figure out which kind it is" au
P E R F E C T I O N I I S M ’ S ’HOW DID I EVEN GET 700 FOLLOWERS?’ F L A S H G I V E A W A Y
R • U • L • E • S one. you must be following me. if you unfollow after you win, I reserve the right to give your prize to someone else. two. you must be an indie roleplay blog. three. only reblogs count, not likes. four. you can reblog as many times as you like, but you will only be entered once. five. the winners will be chosen on saturday, september 20th at midnight est.
P • R • I • Z • E • S first place. 70 static icons of a fc of your choice second place. 50 static icons of a fc of your choice third place. 30 static icons of a fc of your choice
>> lettersfromthepit <<
"This is me assuming you have a really good reason for being in here.”
" ----- I ... "
What was she supposed to say? That this Gallifreyan basically proclaimed he no longer needed her and then dropped her off in the other room of this stranger's apartment for her 'own safety'? That she came by magic blue box and now was stranded with no idea as of where she was?
" I don't. Not really . . . "
>> perfectioniism <<
”The only way that would happen would be in your dreams, Schmidt.”
" A-ha-ha-ha. You're so FUNNY. -----Okay no. First off, I only dream of Keira Knightley. No one replaces the nightly Knightley. No one. And secondly, enjoy your dream tonight. That's right. 'Cos now that you've said it, most likely you'll be the one having it. So enjoy the dream sex. Which--- by the way, is amazing but not NEARLY as amazing as it is I.R.L. "
>> perfectioniism <<
“Probably I don’t know. I’m no fitness expert. Why does it even matter? Just put your shirt on. NOW.”
" Fine- fine. But ONLY because we BOTH KNOW that in a week or two, you'll be begging me to take it off again. It's just fate. "
>> perfectioniism <<
“Obviously not, but like seriously? There’s a time and a place to show off how many hours you put in at the gym.”
" So then you agree I've put in a lot of hours. Like definitely more than two, yeah? "
>> pxnciotti <<
❝ I don’t particularly want to see you without a shirt on. So — please keep it on. ❞
❝ --------- Wow. Just wow. Way to just totally SHOOT DOWN my ego. Ouch. You are UNBELIEVABLY rude. Like triple ouch. ❞
>> perfectioniism <<
“ Do you really think you should be doing that?”
" ------ Oh, I'm sorry . . . are you the SHIRT POLICE? "
>> ice cream cutie <<
"Shawn, keeping track of you is like babysitting a hyper four year old. You’re lucky I lo--like you. I’ve been—-around. Doing things. You know—-things. Do you think I could meet you somewhere? I do believe that you owe me a frappuccino.”
❝ Well THANK YOU for liking my hyper-four-year-old ass. Man, if it weren't for you I'd probably be in the middle of Alaska in search of the wild bearamoose. No, seriously. Like no joke, Kai.
Things? Like TOP SECRET, 'If I tell you I'd have to kill you' things? Like James Bond and Johnny English had a gayby together and that gayby was like an intense super spy mash-up of their amazing skills kind of things? Because you SOOO need to fill me in on that.
Hey---- it's not my fault you weren't there when I finally showed up at our place an hour and a half later. Meanie. But yeah- yeah meet me at Chewbaccacino. 'kay? ❞
>> jess <<
"Oh, c’mon, Schmidt! Do you want me to forget about Nick and move on? Do you want me to stop watching Dirty Dancing seven times a day? Do you want to everything come back to the way it was, with me, you, Nick, Coach and Winston behaving normally and not acting weird? Then I need this. Do you remember what you told me in the first week I spent here in the apartment? I needed a rebound. And I need one now too. C’mon! Help a brotha out.”
"Oh, are we talking about Outside Dave? He already came up in here, to be honest… He asked me if I needed some help with my grocery bags, so I let him use you toothbrush as a way of saying ‘thank you’. I hope you don’t mind.”
" Yes. No. And kind of but not really? Like I could handle the not acting weird part and behaving normally part but everything back to the way it was? Like HONESTLY, Jess, things could be subject to some seriously big changes. And the good kind of seriously big changes. Not the shitty 'keep Schmidt from cleaning up the loft' kind of big changes. And pleaaase don't EVER say 'brotha' again. You are not Winston nor are you remotely related to anyone Winston-like. You are an all white, all american girl. "
" ------------- MY toothbrush? The BLUE ONE with the flexi-edges and the-the- WHAT?! How long ago was this? OH MY GOD JESS I HAVE HOMELESSNESS IN MY MOUTH. "
>> pxnciotti <<
❝ What did you do that for? ❞
❝ Because L.L.S., baby------ Ladies Love Schmidt. ❞
>> ? ? ? ? <<
She hadn’t expected the words coming out of his mouth—in fact, Kailee was a little set off by what he said to her. Or maybe he wasn’t talking to her, but to himself. Either way, his statement caused her heart to drop. She didn’t need a reminder of how badly she had screwed up—she just wanted to go home, get drunk, and forget that another year had passed without her brother at her side.
Thankfully, he finally actually acknowledged her, and even offered her a ride home. Kailee hesitated, before slowly shaking her head. "No, thank you—but if you could give me a ride to the nearest gas station, I think I can find my way from there." Truth be told, there was no home to speak of, just a dingy hotel room, and her car which she had somehow lost in her travels. Under the dim streetlight, her eyes were wide and tired, red rimmed and a betrayal of the fact that she shouldn’t be here.
"I didn’t think anyone else would be out here this late—"
Looking up, blue eyes rested gently on the woman before him. It was almost as if he wasn't there for a moment; lost instead in the never-ending, ever-expanding memories playing and replaying within his own four walls. All he had ever done was try to do what was good, try to do the RIGHT thing.... he didn't even know what that was anymore, or what it really was then, now that he thinks back on it.
The moment of ghost-like qualities was quickly fleeting, though, emotion finally seeping across the Avenger's features as he pushed himself up from the stone bench he sat upon.
" Are you sure, ma'am----- I'd feel pretty bad leaving you to fend for yourself at a gas station of all places . . . "
A hand came back to run through dirty-blonde locks, feet shuffling slightly beneath him, a small smile trying his lips out for size.
" Would it be strange if I said I was thinking the exact same thing moments earlier? I never really get any time, PERIOD, to attend to personal affairs these days. To be quite honest, this was the only time I've really had to myself. Work seems to have an iron grip on me. It's just weird to think that life still kind of happens, though, even at two in the morning when you're not really looking, you know? "
" ------Wow, I swear I don't normally talk this much. "
>> jess <<
"Hey, Schmidt! Funny story: I’m out of shampoo and I actually have a huge date tonight, so… Can I borrow some of yours? Just a little bit, I swear, you won’t even notice.”
" Jess, you know how much I LOVE seeing you go out with some guy, eat food, and then have totally reckless sex. I mean--- I how could I EVER discourage that? I'd have to be like a generally terrible person to do that. Or- or Nick. But that's besides the point.
Meaningless, crazy sex is good for you- it really is. And I am SO PROUD of you. But you? Plus my shampoo? "
" ------- I might as well let the homeless man that sits outside our building's door to come in and use it. And my soaps. And hell, maybe he can try on some of my cardigans, yeah? "
>>suit ruiner<<
It was too early for her to function. Kailee was currently nursing a huge cup of coffee. Well, her brother would tell her that with the fact that it was iced and jacked up with so much creamer and sugar that it didn’t count as coffee anymore. Either way, it was the only thing she had paid any mind to, except the fact that the overpriced cafe had charged her a whopping 12 dollars for the biggest size they had with all the fixing.
Bastards.
With a sigh, she went to take another sip of her concoction, only for a mass of limbs crashed into her.
Instantly, she was wearing twelve dollars worth of coffee. The shock of the ice cubes that were now lodged in her bra and her tank top, and the cold running down the front of her made her recoil. Deep brown eyes went from tired to shocked and almost insulted, as if it had been an act of betrayal instead of an accident. Kailee held her hands up defensively, still not aware of herself, really.
”Why?!”
She wasn’t sure if she was asking him or the universe, but either way, she was shaken and annoyed as she started to pick ice cubes out of her shirt.
❝ -------------- My Giorgio Armani Muted-Graph Jacquard Two-Button Suit! Like WHY exactly. You got- you got the sorriest excuse for a beverage ALL OVER my Giorgio Armani Muted-Graph Jacquard Two-Button Suit. It's name itself is worth more than- more than three of you! ❞
Hands were up and out by his sides, shoulders hunched forwards in a vain attempt to keep the chilling liquid away from his previously warm torso. Green eyes were trained on the white dress shirt and black coat now splattered with light brown. He had a hard time processing what had just happened, mouth still agape as he stood across the offender drenched in coffee.
❝ I was running late but now- now it seems like there's no point in showing up now that my GIORGIO ARMANI MUTED-GRAPH JACQUARD TWO-BUTTON SUIT is completely ruined!
I mean---- except for the fact that it's- well it is my loft. But besides that THERE IS NO POINT. Like none. All point just flew right out the window! ❞
>>lettersfromthepit<<
It was far too cold out for her to be standing there in a thin jacket and a pair of jeans. Then again, it was easily two in the morning, and she was alone just outside a graveyard. If it had been any other night, she would have been hunting something. Any other night would have given her strength to carry on, a fire in her heart and sass on her tongue.
But tonight, of all things, it was her birthday, and she had stumbled into the wrong graveyard, and couldn’t find her brother’s grave. She was tired, and cold, and worse, she couldn’t find her damn car. So now Kailee had to rely on the kindness of a stranger not to try and murder her if she approached them.
"Sorry—-can you point me to the nearest gas station?"
It had finally happened, nearly three weeks ago it had happened and he wasn't even able to pay his respects at the damn funeral. Peggy Carter, aged 94, wonderful dancer, loyal soldier, and the greatest woman Steve had ever met. He still owed her a date . . . and while many were spending that dark day a week ago, huddled around the very stone he sat before and paying their sincerest respects, he was busy being Captain America. And what did that entitle on that particular day? Filling out overdue paper work on Operation Winter. It seemed every day his job description changed . . .
With one hand resting at the back of his neck and gloomy hues trained on the dark grass beneath his shoes, Steve hardly noticed the stranger before she spoke.
"Funny how nights like this really make you think back on things. Like 'what if I hadn't done that ONE BIG THING that CHANGED MY LIFE FOREVER.' How would my days be different? Would they be better? Would there be less of a body count-----"
He didn't even register what he was saying, let alone what the other had said. His mind was long since focused on the what if. What if he wasn't so persistent on enlisting into the military? What if he had turned down Howard Stark's offer? What if he had saved his best friend?
"Sorry, I uh--- do you- do you need a ride home?"
>> kailee <<
“Jefferson!”
Her voice rang through the tiny dwelling, a helpless noise, laced with laughter and just a bit of frustration. Kailee’s patience was short as she lifted herself from the floor, all skirts and barely able to navigate as she searched for the hatter.
"—-I can’t get the damn thing off. Unlace me, please?” Her tone had softened, mostly because if he didn’t unlace her, she would be stuck in the metal and lace contraption, and it was starting to hurt. Kailee sucked in a breath, giving him her best helpless look.
"I mean it. If you don’t, I’ll cut my way out, and I’ll tie you up in one of these bad boys while you’re sleeping.” It was a weak threat, mostly because Kailee had secretly started to covet her small collection of clothing—even if she called most of it ridiculous and ‘torture devices.’
❝ Yeahhh . . . I don't THINK so. ❞
Leaning against the inside of the door frame, blue hues quickly looked over the short woman and what could only be described as the aftermath of a previous battle between her and that dress.
❝ I don't DO girly things----- or strings and the likes.
But I will gladly watch you struggle and MISERABLY FAIL at getting that off. At least . . . until something even more helpless comes along.
But hey . . . what are the odds of that happening, huh? ❞
He spoke with his hands, gestures flying this way and that paired with a range of facial expressions, as he sat there in mid-air between the ends of the door frame, back pressed against one side and both feet propped up upon the other. To say he enjoyed the break from reality (well, the closest the Enchanted Forest got to reality) was an understatement. And anyway, despite the way he prided himself in being 'mean' and 'vile', he had a kind heart.
He'd help her out . . . eventually . . . It was more fun that way.