I Need To Keep A Little Sticky On My Desk That Reminds Me Which Muses Are Cheesy Dumb Flirts And Which

@noatherics

Are you charging for this sage advice, or is sticking your nose into my business just a hobby? / what if we did give ekko and jinx a try

party banter / accepting !

a  biting  remark  sits  on  his  tongue——it  sits,  it  pauses  much  like  her  finger  on  the  trigger.  the  firelights  were  nearby,  exploring  their  own  alleys,  trying  to  tidy  up  the  streets  as  best  they  can.  maybe  it's  ...  foolish,  but  he  figures  she'll  be  here.  guarding  silco's  goods——carving  a  deep  scar  into  the  undercity  again  and  again.  he  wants  to  try  again,  to  stop  this  ...  all  of  this  even  if  only  for  a  moment.  if  only  he  could  turn  back  time——!  that'd  be  the  day.  the  day  he  saves  the  world.  pocketwatch  clicks,  sealed  within  his  pocket  like  a  tiny  heartbeat  made  of  gears  and  seconds.  could  he  have  done  more  if  noticed  those  mere  seconds  in  the  past?

"it's  free  ...  long  as  you're  willing  to  listen."  &  return.  he  pauses,  hesitant.  "powder."

Oh this is a random discussion but thane loves games like civilization. Building a nation? Governing things? Less of the stress because it’s digital. Yeah when he’s off work good luck prying him from civ.

So what I'm learning is I need to deep-dive into their comics and story because the Flash is actually a ridiculously decent mentor by the looks of it.

at a certain point i think all brad's relationships are doomed to fail because you're never probably gonna be as important as his next adventure. it's just... not likely. there's always some distance, always some lack of presence on his part, he's never gonna be able to give the attention some need. he's wild. a puff of smoke and gone.

flicking back and forth between blogs rn but inbox call ! give this a like i'll either send smth from your memes tag or make something mysellf. specify if you wanted from a certain muse.

threats  are  the  dullest  of  blades  to  martin.  each  syllable,  each  note,  no  more  unique  than  the  last.  some  were  clever——some  were  foolish  but  he  sees  more  than  such  things.  in  the  grand  symphony  of  countless  universes,  he  sees  them  as  a  single  note.  what  could  once  dazzle  &.  amaze  does  nothing  for  him.  the  faintest  hint  of  hunger  taunts  his  sense  of  interest,  but  it  doesn't  rise.  only  the  dull  ...  empty  feeling  lingers  in  its  stead.  what's  a  monster  to  a  beast?  what's  living  another  day  to  dying  tomorrow?  striking  her  down  now  ...  that's  the  best  pity  he'll  be  able  to  provide.

he  peers  at  her  with  features  slack  in  contemplation.  dispatching  her  before  returning  to  fillory——to  his  rightful  kingdom——that's  the  right  choice.  it's  logical.  it's  reasonable.  turning  this  pitiful  rock  to  a  sea  of  molten  ash  and  dust  would've  been  no  small  part  compassion.  boring  on  the  surface, yet  monsters  lurk,  yet  monsters hide.  rather  strange  ...  so  much  more  different  than  other  worlds.  at  first,  it  intrigues  him.  beast  that  don  the  skin  of  mere  man  but  they're  far  too  human.  far  too  full  of  love,  compassion,  and  hate  to  even  be  compared  to  a  real  monster  ...  a  real  beast.  he  sees  it.  he  smells  it.  vulnerability  clad  it  biting  words.  wit  in  place  of  sincerity.

hands  fold  themselves  behind  his  back  after  straightening  fitted  suit.  he  steps  closer——his  gait  light  yet  empty.  it's  a  dance.  a  two  step  meant  for  one  that  brings  him  closer,  closer  to  her.  steps  carry  him  towards  the  tangles  of  contradiction  she  holds,  to  the  life  she  clings  to  yet  resents.  does  she  feel  pain  with  every  breath?  does  she  feel  pain  from  being  alive?  how  cruel,  the  world  can  be.  how  wicked  his  smile  must  seem,  polite  yet  cruel.  through  his  gaze,  he  sees  a  terrarium.  a  world  of  glass,  broken  and  shattered.  the  gods  have  long  since  abandoned  it  to  rot  and  fade  away.  to  vanish  with  a  stifled  scream.

"does  it  ...  ever  get  tiring  to  pretend  to  be  so  strong?"  a  pause  for  a  laugh,  detached  like  a  heavy  note.  "don't  get  me  wrong,  you've  got  it  down  pat, dear girl.  fooling  yourself,  well,  that's  the real  magic, isn't it?" 

[  .⠀.⠀.  ] ❛ I  did  warn  you  not  to  trust  me. ❜ , @amcssing (martin chatwin) said.

His words stung, more than she liked to admit — each syllable was a spiked jab, directly aimed at the wall of solidarity and calculated distance she'd built around her very being, the very wall he had somehow, impossibly, already managed to breach. 

Sayuri wasn't one to trust easily. Life had taught her that vulnerability was a liability, a weakness to be exploited, and her every interaction was usually marked with the safe distance she maintained. Martin, however, had managed to instill the slightest sliver of hope within her for a powerful alliance that defied the odds — a hope that was now being declared foolish, stupid, an utter embarrassment.  

A wave of heat flared up within the ghoula, a mixture of shame, raw fury, and the creeping realization that slowly settled into her consciousness, heavy and consuming. For once, she had allowed herself a hint of belief, and he had taken that vulnerability and twisted it into a weapon. The intensity of her emotions was enough to make her clench her fists at her sides, her knuckles bone-white beneath taut skin — her expressions, however, masked her irritation with feigned amusement. A smirk, sharp and brittle, crept onto her lips that didn't quite reach her eyes, her pride forcing her to maintain composure, to not grant him the satisfaction of seeing the boiling turmoil his words had caused within. Fine. If this was how he wanted to play it, she would play along. 

❛ Noted, ❜ she brought out, the sound somewhat strained as it passed through her gritted teeth. ❛ Now, ❜ she continued, her smirk hardening into a predatory curve, a dangerous glint finally flickering in her eyes, ❛ let’s see how much you enjoy having me as your enemy. ❜

random dialogue prompts , accepting !

At the far end of the street, on my side, was the silhouette of a man, dancing. It was a strange dance, similar to a waltz, but he finished each “box” with an odd forward stride. I guess you could say he was dance-walking, headed straight for me.

[…] He was very tall and lanky, and wearing an old suit. He danced closer still, until I could make out his face. His eyes were open wide and wild, head tilted back slightly, looking off at the sky. His mouth was formed in a painfully wide cartoon of a smile.

— The Smiling Man

I wanna talk about aliens. I want to talk to Okarun! I want to talk to Ayase-san! I want to talk about ghosts!

Dandadan Episode 05 - Okarun & Momo + Mutual Pining