Tonight I was working in the penalty box at my brother’s hockey game when one of the guys from the opposing team got a tripping penalty. So, as my job requires I have to get his jersey number so I can record it and put it up on the score board with his penalty. I asked him for his number and…well…he gave it to me. His phone number. 

Poor kid went beet red after I explained I meant his jersey number, not his phone number. I talked to him after the game to make sure he was all good and such, and he said, oh my god, “keep the number, just in case you’re ever looking for anything besides a jersey number.”

Smooth as fuck.

my wifi is in working order again and i’m officially back i jsut am a little bit overwhelmed by my drafts.

girlbummer·:

❝  first  of  all  —-   fuck  ,  you’re  a  revolutionary  genius  .   ❞ sarcasm  unraveling  in  savannah’s  tone  ,  brows  arched  in  a  smirk  .  however  ,  he’s  made  a  point  to  sell  her  on  the  idea  ,  before  she  can  ever  begin  to  waggle  a  finger  in  his  direction—  telling  him  he’s  spouting  crazy  nonsense  .  she’d  never  been  in  love  with  anybody  ,  let  alone  the  one  person  who’s  been  pulling  shit  like  this for  as  long  as  she  could  remember  .   

the  pun  causes  her  eyes  to  roll  ,  and her  lips  to  purse  into  a  dimpled  grin  .   ❝ has  anyone  told  you  that  maybe  you’re  wearing  your  helmet  on  like  ,  two  sizes  too  tight  ? ❞  she’ll  plop  down  on  on  the  bench  ,  gaze  averting  down  to  her  skates  ,  untying  them  by  lace  .   ❝ first  of  all  ,  we’re  supposed  to  be  sharing  the  ice  today—  not  goin’  off  hunting  for  free  cake  .  second  of  all  ,  my  dad  still  fucking  hates  you  .  and  third  , ❞ there’s  a  pause  ,  green  eyes  darting  up  to  meet  his  as  she  shucks  off  one  of  the  boots  .   ❝ we  have  zero  sexual  chemistry  .  it’d  never  work—-  you  don’t  want  to  fuck  me  ,  therefore  ,  no  cake  dispensary  in  their  right  mind would  believe  us  .   ❞

❝ savvy, savvy, savvy, ❞ he tuts, spindly finger reaching out and tapping the tip of the girl’s nose with a soft boop. ❝ swear, it might actually benefit you to have FUN sometimes. ❞  hum bright as ever but each blow is like a stone cold pierce to his heart and he’s left clutching his chest by the end of it, feels like her boot bounced right off the rink and into his very soul. 

there’s a lot to unpack here.

❝ christ, it’s not like we’re gonna be fucking beside the red velvet cupcakes! ❞  you don’t want to fuck me. it’s not even something he’s thought about before, not like that, not with savannah. especially not after chucking a puck straight through the girl’s window following one too many hard iced teas. romance is nothing but a dreary pitfall waiting to bite when you least expect it, so why not save the heartache and just play pretend instead? 

it’s not like the girl’s an EYESORE in the slightest, and he won’t deny the way her dedication is infectious in the best way possible. ❝ i was thinking more along the lines of a couple perfectly timed side glances, some hushed pet names... maybe a high five if you really wanna get frisky? ❞ 

me vs coming home after watching parasite for the 5th time and immediately adding a kijung inspired muse to my roster

compulsivc·:

this could not be happening. cailen feels as if he’s going to be sick, hands begin to tremble at the mere sight of the other before them. however, she can’t allow for herself to look for much longer, takes a few steps backwards until she hits a wall. though she can’t make out much, she pieces together that max is asking her what they should do with his body. eyes widen in shock, because she thought the answer to that question was pretty obvious. “ we should call the police, that’s what ! we’ll tell them it was an accident, which it was, they’ll believe us .. they’d have to. ” but even she wasn’t certain with that last part, not with all that blood staining the carpet. 

they had never intended to kill him, though that part was evident already. call it natural selection. a pinched nerve. a foot that stomped too hard or a nail that dug too deep but PLEASE, don’t call it murder, because a murderer max isn’t. judging by the way cailen’s petite form collapses, neither is she — so what are they going to do about it?

❝ alright, call the police, that’s a surefire ticket to the good ol’ electric chair right there, isn’t it? ❞ spat out with nothing but venom on her tongue, biting back, catching on her lip with a grimace; snapping at cailen won’t get her anywhere, so she softens her tone and tries again. ❝ i mean ... two girls find out they’re involved with the same man and ‘ accidentally ’ bludgeon him to death? would you buy it if you heard it? ❞ and saying it out loud makes it real, but she gulps the tears down and finds cailen’s gaze. ❝ ammonia gets even the nastiest blood stains out of most upholstery, and i only know that because mother nature is a bitch — would you happen to own a SHOVEL ? ❞  

"lets go to mcdonalds, i want pie."

❝ as long as it ain’t the one by my apartment, ❞ gangly legs crossing as he recalls, tender little smirk adorning features; if context was removed it’d look like jules was reminiscing about only the bravest of tales. ❝ ' cause APPARENTLY trying to see if you’ve still got your sick climbing skills on the playplace is ‘ immoral ’ and ‘ gets you banned for life ’ or sumthin’. ❞ not like he would know, surely.

ok but,,, i want a “ i didn’t tell my family that we broke up & they keep pressuring me to bring u home for the holidays, so can u pretend u don’t hate me & come with me ? “ kind of plot pls give me

hcghdcfinitcn·:

‘how could I say no to a face like that?’ she let’s out a chuckle at the thought of being in love for one night only because that’s not how she typically worked. “pretend to be in love with you? i don’t know,” the girl laughed, “might not be able to do that, sounds kinda hard.

luckily, cyrus managed to pick the person with little to no impulse control. once an idea was planted in her mind, alex was destined to do it as long as it is within reason. it did also help that the promise of cake was involved, the mere mention of something sweet was enough to get her and her sweet tooth involved. “i think we need a meet-cute,” she urged, “one good enough to match the rings, obviously.”

now, she was trying to hide the smirk that was tugging at her lips. she’s already getting into character, “sweet pun, but i promise if you break that out in there, i’m calling off the engagement.” 

if cyrus were a caterpillar, he thinks, then it would be rather rational for alex to be a monarch. bigger and brighter, intrepid and winsome all the while having such a dulcet core and it almost ( ALMOST ! ) makes him want to soften up, too.  ❝ is it the tzatziki breath that’s making it difficult for you? it’s the tzatziki breath, isn’t it. ❞ and with a wink of olive hues is he back in full force.

❝ your sarcasm is suffocating, let that be known, ❞ tilting his nose up with a haughty huff, brunet curls looking more and more like a small animal’s nest everyday after practice and he should probably just shave his head at this point, honestly. ❝ what do you say we’re two ex-CIA agents who met in our training class? ❞

all things considered, it’s easy to see why anyone with a pulse would think he’s finally lost his marbles, so it comes to no surprise when- “WAIT. is that a yes? ❞ because he can’t control the simper that grows on a cherubic countenance, leaps to his feet and just about skips to his key hook.

some RP blog tagging one of my posts:  ( VISAGE ); shε was p0ison and honεy; (( EYES OF FIRE)); oc: straight girl with pretentious name

me: 

rooms seem a lot more sinister once stripped bare and illuminated solely by minuscule slivers of moonlight. hallways bleed into each other and floorboards creak with the lightest of taps, dancing into hazy whirlwinds of overgrowth seeping through tiles and forgotten attics. the imagery is jules’ favorite part and he’s in absolute HEAVEN, heard about the place through the grapevine and knew instantaneously kiha had to come along for the ride.

he shines his flashlight into a new room now and it’s pretty uneventful, not counting the big black trash bag in the corner and huh. why is it ... moving. 

❝ yo, k ? ❞ he gulps. ❝ get the hell in here. ❞ / @sweetmarzipan​ ♡

✉ ／ wrong number . 👀

CLAUDIO: alright, so a week ago i texted you thinking you were sabrina from the bar and i know it was a wrong number and shit.

CLAUDIO: i didn't reply to your great selfie because i was very upset that she happened to lie to me and give me a wrong number.

CLAUDIO: and i was about to delete your number when i remembered that you're actually kind of cute.

CLAUDIO: you got a boyfriend? i'm not offering but i love being a homewrecker. what's up, sexy?

MINA: whoa, you like, totally know how to charm your way into a girl's heart.

MINA: no wonder things with sabrina from the bar worked out so well ;)

MINA: hmm, no home to wreck here but if you're that desperate you could let me tattoo you sometime.

MINA: i get to practice my career and you get to say you touched a girl!

sweetmarzipan·:

there is a distant throbbing in the back of his skull, one that pulses in time with the beating of his heart and kitae really can’t find any sort of energy to attempt an argument. its the assurance of safety that is like a hand enclosing around his throat, one that makes the traitorous burn of tears overflow down black and blue cheeks. he’s safe.

the boy shuffes forward — unsteady on his feet as if he’s hardly walked a day in his life — and somehow manages to drape himself onto jules’ back, arms hanging over broad shoulders. 

oh everything ACHES. even such simple movements elicit a wince and a grunt. head tipping forward, kitae tries to keep the crimson stained parts of his face out of contact from the elder’s shirt or hair. they don’t need to be cleaning blood off of two people.

“ t—thank you, ” he forces out. using his voice aches— his throat is raw and even just breathing too deeply settles another ache in his chest. broken ribs, maybe. he wants to go to sleep, wants to close his eyes and forget about the pain even for just an hour. but he knows he can’t, knows this pain in his head likely means concussion.

jules could expire. leave him out to dry right here, right now, on the cold concrete beneath him and it still wouldn’t shake the image of kitae’s meek, spluttering disposition that’s etched itself into the back of his eyelids. he wants to coddle. to wrap and wash and snuggle until the boy feels whole again ... everything is so tender. it’s hard to so much as keep a steady grasp on fleshy thighs as they trek into the real world again — GOD. he’s definitely penciling in a trip to the local gym soon. 

❝ y’know, this is usually the part where i tell you my services come with fees. gotta charge ya extra for interrupting dinner and all that, ❞ saccharine voice for a saccharine boy as he eases kitae into his vehicle. gets a better look at the severity of his injuries under the moonlight and positively WINCES, sucks in his bottom lip and wills the churning in his stomach away. 

❝ BUT ! since it’s been proven i’m the greatest friend in the world, i’ll give you a one-time deal of free ninety nine. ❞ once jules is in the driver’s seat, gaze shifting between barren roads and a broken kitae beside him. ❝ just... don’t DIE on me, alright? ❞ 

CASPIAN: oh god CASPIAN: does that mean she SAW the part where i called u a damnnndelion? CASPIAN: that’s mortifying, remind me to never step foot in ur office again 

GABRIELLA: i got the flowers you sent me :) GABRIELLA: my coworker tried to claim it as hers GABRIELLA: but you left a cute note so i win!

We fucked so hard the love must have fallen out of you somewhere between courses - I remember sitting on your floor with my chest heaving and your body turned away from me and I said “why don’t we talk anymore?” and you were silent for so long I almost fell asleep against the wall and eventually in the dark I heard, “because you’re always asking questions like that with answers you already know.”

give me a plot where both muses are each other’s pen pals that end up falling in love through letters please. threads would be in letter format up until they finally meet each other. please.