#re no

[mollymockiing]

sending you all my love and devotion 💕💕

*✶｡ — @re-no

GUYS, MY WIFE LOVES ME

I’m going to be terrible and turn this into a Vika love letter, because I adore this fucking wretched harpy with every fiber of my being. You have done me the fucking honor of following me on every one of your blogs on every one of mine since we’ve been making heart eyes at each other as twin Cullens in the distance. I cannot express to you how much I admire you as a writer, as a person, and as a friend. I know so few people as upstanding, thoughtful, caring and genuine as you, who can conduct themselves with integrity and fucking class, and you do it with a carefulness, a meticulousness that looks like ease.

You have been the one constant in my life in the last year, the one person that has grounded me when monumental shit continuously and systematically hits the fucking fan for reasons that I don’t always understand (lets be real, I probably betrayed my country in a past life or summat), and there is no one i trust more to tell all the fucking voltaic insanity that comes to my mind when my mental shit ain’t right. 

I don’t think anyone in this past year has known me like you. I don’t trust just anyone with the right to be in a position to give me advice, but I always always come to you, and you always have an ear to listen. Even to the stupidest, most random shit. We speak sporadically sometimes, and still you know more about the secret, shittiest parts of me that I am still overwhelmed and grateful that you have remained my friend for as long as you have.

It is my fucking credo in life to never take away from someone’s happiness, only to enhance what I can. I despise being a burden to anyone for even a moment, because my problems are no one else’s responsibility but mine. But not only have you borne and bared my bullshit with me for well over a year now, you’ve gained my trust in ways I haven’t been able to trust anyone in literal years.

So all my fucking love and all my devotion lies with you, Vika, you incredible, vicious fucking woman, also marry me but IRL because always wanted a mail order bride.

[kawaiifatale]

[atlaslain-a-blog]

❛on a scale of one to ten… how illegal do you think doing this is?❜

bad ideas.     /     @re-no

     Zack looks speculative. “A solid who-gives-a-fuck outta ten, I’d say. Would you concur?”      He holds in his arms a medium-sized tank, which houses a peculiar-looking creature. He’s not sure what the thing’s called. ( He’d suggest names but they’re currently slinking out of the Shinra building with as much sneakiness as they can muster and it probably isn’t the best time for a lively debate. ) Anyway, the critter has a catlike body and keeps hiccuping out little puffs of fire and the lab tech they talked into handing it over told them Professor Hojo was planning on destroying it as a failed experiment. Zack holds the tank protectively.      He hopes Reno’s aware they’re keeping it. 

[regialux-a]

send 📷 for an instagram profile for your character | accepting

@re-no

[moonichor-blog]

❛ d' ya know what this shirt is made of, luna ? ❜ there's a pause ( purely present for dramatic effect, for he's certain she already / knows / what he's about to voice next ) and then he redhead smiles ( a genuine thing, a / rarity /, for he is not the type to show true emotion in such a brazen manner ) and finally comes the punchline: ❛ boyfriend material ! ❜

     witty, these vocals. cunning, fox-sly. that tongue so satanic split, and yet, toward her, the venom was never spit. ( but this phrase would’ve not met the fondness of many. some may’ve called it ‘inauthentic, tasteless’ — — to her, it tasted honey-sweet. they would’ve frowned with the question of what class such jocular commentary had   – and she’d say, ‘class is irrelevant’. t’was about the laughter – serenity… ) about a smirk, a grin, a stretch of a smile.  behold these corners, how amusement mellowly formed them. their mutual child’s game, an equal match; their expressions, synchronized.       ( we told each other short stories now and then. sometimes they were of depth, sometimes she’d read them out of books. other times they unfolded into dimensions even deeper, masked with humor. significantly mesmerizing.  sometimes she dived so far and reached the ocean’s floor, burrowed herself into a bed of shell-shards, used their sharpness as blanket. yet slept in there, unharmed.  sometimes thou didst reach out far above the sky-spheres, touched a lunar lover’s face, without the loss of oxygen and breath.  and beyond the azure haze, thou couldst find a soul in mental maze.  lead that soul with words so smitten, draw her from a mind so FLAWED. ) 

     thy rare shine: ‘the clothing is crafted of paramour fibers’      her reflection:  “oh, only the textile? isn’t the entirety of your form made of it?” subtly flirtatious, a response flaked and she was e’er playful with it. carefree, cheery, i laugh with thee. o darling, make me feel FREE.  /  @re-no​

[atlaslain-a-blog]

casually sends you a butt pic because that's exactly what bros do <3

@re-no ,,, i think u mean re-bro

     [ txt ; trashcan ]   >   WHAT A GOOD FIRM BUTT     [ txt ; trashcan ]   >   10/10 would play like a bongo drum