#sycophanticvisionary

[alivesque]

@sycophanticvisionary ♥’d for a starter

           “If you’re not going to be nice, you can leave. This is a family restaurant, Joe. Keep your cynicism in the city.”

[bruisedsong-inspo-blog1]

@sycophanticvisionary because duh we need another thread

   ‘ i’m melody’s mother--- i’m amythest, ‘ ami introduces herself to her    daughters best friend’s dad ( goodness that was a mouthful ) since it    was the first small play the school put on. ami had tried to be available    for most of melody’s school activities, but since she was in kindergarten    and everything had to be a big deal, she only chose the ones her daughter    actually participated in. this one was a play about sharing. sure. 

   during this whole time, melody had chattered on about how her best friend    cassie, had to be the worlds greatest friend ever ( in those words exactly )    and while ami had no problem with her baby girl having friends, she did want    to meet her parents before anything more than that was given. 

   her bouncing girl had kindly shown her the seat next to a handsome man,    dressed in a casual suit with a stoic, but proud look on his face. this was    mr. macmillian! her daughter had chirped before running back to cassie    who was giggling behind the backstage curtain with the rest of their class.

   ‘ you must be cassie’s father ?  ‘

[delctrl-blog1]

❛❛I don’t get what you even see in Gordon.❜❜ | @sycophanticvisionary

          ‘ i thought we were trying to enjoy dinner  ’ joe asks, shoving another fork full of food into his mouth as he waits for ryan to respond. whatever it was that had been bubbling the last couple of weeks had boiled over the surface, though quite frankly joe’s surprised it’d taken this long for anything to have come from the collaboration with gordon. there’d been the initial freak out when he’d learned who’d be coding the thing but that’d been it, they didn’t talk about it and joe hadn’t pushed because he knew it’d only cause upset.

             when ryan pushes the food around the plate, seemingly uninterested in answering, joe puts down the cutlery and shifts his entire body to face the man ‘  alright you’ve got something to say, say it  ’

       No, Joe is trying to enjoy dinner; Ryan’s trying not to let his animosity towards Gordon ruin his appetite. Too late for that though, it seems, since all he can accomplish it pushing around noodles and greasy vegetables. Normally Ryan likes Chinese food—who doesn’t? Flavorful with just the right amount of healthy and unhealthy—yet he can’t stomach anything with the idea that Joe and Gordon are working together again.

       It will have been simpler if Ryan thinks Joe’s going to cheat on him rather than feel inadequate due to how close Joe is with the other coder. Glum eyes raise once Joe confronts Ryan further, expression cast in a disgruntled grimace, but he looks back down at his plate, shrugging. “Nothing you want to hear,” Ryan retorts moodily, “why bother.” Again he shrugs. Ryan stabs a piece of orange chicken to tuck in his mouth, almost spiteful as he chews.

[delctrl-archive]

something big | joe

SC://_ @sycophanticvisionary

       “So, uh, how’d the meeting go?” Try to act cool, like he doesn’t yearn to be at a group meeting with the genius minds of Cameron Howe and Gordon Clark—hell, even Donna and Tom are there. Something big is cooking, he can smell it. His eyes drop to Joe’s arm; the cast is brand new and worried panic flits over his face. “Joe, what the hell happened?”

[flatteredhim]

@sycophanticvisionary: ‘my bro,,,, my man,, please understand, dorian gray is so gay. he is gay. please. let him live.’ did you write this reVIEW???

ghostwrote it

[stillcominback]

“You need to look where you’re going.” [ laurel doing memes - ?? error404 ]

I REBLOGGED A MEME ! | accepting (selectively)

“Well, m’sorry but I was just lookin’ for my kid -- didn’t really EXPECT to be runnin’ up on anybody else.”

[whatsthepoop]

sycophanticvisionary replied to your post “Joe MacMillan blog: *follows* Me:”

{ and i thought the PD fandom was 5% active! }

There’s like… 3 of of us. Maybe four. I honestly can’t tell.

[luxenebrisarchive-blog]

So, as many people know, I don't do follow forevers or bias lists. As in, I don't create and post them myself for various reasons. However, I do like to create  special things for my writing partners because this blog really wouldn't be what it is without THEM. I’m incredibly grateful for the numerous adventures that these lovely people go on with me through our threads. I’m constantly learning from them. Writing has always been one of my favorite hobbies. My partners make me love it that much more because creating amazing things with others who also love the hobby is such a special experience. The idea of collaborating with others while gaining a better understanding of characters that I cared about was what drew me to the roleplaying world. What makes me that much happier is that I’ve gotten to know many of these people ooc. Whether it’s through tag conversations, IM chats, or both. They’ve become true friends and their love truly makes me feel appreciated. I always keep them in my thoughts and I hope that they get the best from life. I’m always grateful for these wonderful people, but today - on my birthday - I want to make one of my appreciation posts ( my version of a follow forever / bias list ) because having these talented people in my life is an incomparable gift. You’ll always have a friend in me. Before I mention them, I want to close this by saying that as a human being - someone who isn’t perfect, I do make mistakes. So, it’s possible that I’ve accidentally forgotten people. If you believe I’ve forgotten you, please let me know so that I can add you. 

@rollingsnowsmasher, @phulusa, @rubiedheart, @deluscr, @sardcnics / @elphiethedelirious, @mcmachine / @fatecrossed, @huxyou, @sycophanticvisionary, @theciaanalyst, @arcanecrafted, @agentxiii / @riskaddicted, @jackfrostofalltrades / @merveiilles, @smartminded, @revvolver, @mcrtyr, @queenmizumi, @quidprcquo, @leeurbaneverett, @lessertruth, @moongrail, @sweaterquccn, @rosalithe, @demonbitch, @detkbxckett, @princessofwar, @inferiornost, @invariablyscrewed, @imthelcstprincess, @theredconqueror / @threecardtrick, @iinfinitestories, @eleutheromaniism, @fireversed / @notyourdarlings, @glcser, @ofsakuras, @ofchiba, @stillamemberofthisfamily, @amaninyellow, @xcuratiox / @trcoper, @spacequeenwrites / @spxcequeens, @ordiaval, @ivyquccn, @queensconquered, @plentycffire, @imthxpilot, @wisdomrisen, @moongrail

[nxsaint-blog]

SELF KNOWLEDGE QUESTIONNAIRE: JESSE ST. JAMES EDITION.

  tagged by: @everyvictory   tagging: @lionwept, @thcughtless, @teenhero, @sycophanticvisionary and whoever tbh!

PLEASE REPOST NOT REBLOG!

RATIONALITY.

You like clarity and intelligent simplicity and you get frustrated at messy thinking. This can make you seem unreasonably pushy to some, but it is actually a virtue: you are motivated by a horror at pointless effort and a longing for precision and insight into how things and people work. Your ability to synthesise and bring order is essential in producing thinking which is truly helpful.

INDEPENDENCE.

You don’t set out to be different for its own sake; you are more easily guided by what interests and moves you. You are more concerned about what is right for you than about the pressure to fit in. In sex you are more aware than others of impulses which are not entirely conventional. You know the value of selective irresponsibility, of forgetting occasionally about being ‘good’.

ORDERLINESS.

You love it when everything is neat and tidy: when there is a proper way of doing things, and you can tick things off the to-do list and know where everything is. So others, at times, are to you unbearably sloppy and messy. And you run into things that can’t be ordered (a child, a partner, a colleague at work) which drives you slightly nuts. But your desire for order is a good one when it is focussed where it is needed and when you’re okay with a bit of mess.

[bruisedsong-inspo-blog1]

continued from x

   ‘ i just want you to tell me the truth ! ‘ it was simple. not that ami didn’t lie    either, but not to joey. being friends forever meant they had to be friends.    she kept having to remind him of that. ‘ you know i’m not gonna say anything,    i just... i want to help you if i can, ‘ 

   her fingers dig into her backpack side, pulling out a small kit of makeup.    she could hide those bruises. she knew joey hated to look weak, especially    here in this school. good thing they were in the handicapped bathroom stall    that could be locked from the inside. 

   ‘ just... don’t move okay ? i’m gonna help you. what class are you in right    now ? ‘

[delctrl-blog1]

❝ there’s absolutely nothing wrong with you. ❞

a hundred random starters | @sycophanticvisionary​

      Sweet words—if only Ryan can believe them. Maybe if they came a little sooner, before going to his parents’ house for dinner, maybe Ryan won’t be secluded in the hall next to the bathroom with Joe hovering in front of him like he’s about to shield Ryan from the disappointment of his father and mother. His eyes are wet with unshed tears, which he plans to keep that way, though his nose is a little runny—Ryan sniffs loudly—and his throat sore from the clog in it to prevent childish crying. That’ll just be more fuel for his parents to hark about.

       “This was a mistake,” he whispers so they aren’t overheard [his mom has a habit of eavesdropping]. “Coming here. We shouldn’t have accepted the invite. We haven’t had food yet and already my parents have managed to insult you and me both.” 

       Because it is insulting to tell a son in front of his boyfriend ‘We expected better from you. This isn’t how we raised you.’  And that may have been open for interpretation if their eyes aren’t stuck on Joe when they say it.

       Ryan looks up at Joe after he wipes his knuckle under his eyes, wearing a wan smile. “I’m so sorry they said that. I didn’t expect them be so blunt, honestly. Do you want to go home?” If Joe wants to stay, Ryan will. He’ll sit beside Joe MacMillan proudly and face whatever his parents hurtle at them, but it’s also a fight that can wait. No matter what Ryan is leaving with Joe tonight.

[delctrl-archive]

*MUSIC SYMBOL THO*

♫ – five times my muse swears it’s nota date and the one time it maybe is.— @sycophanticvisionary​

1. CINEMA

      “Just pick one.”

      “I don’t know? I’m still thinking.”

      “Look, it’s not that hard. You’re over-complicating it.”

       “I’m just not sure.”

      “Ryan, if you don’t choose, I’m going to choose for you.”

      “All right, all right, gimme a minute, will you?!”

Easy for Joe to say; these are his selections. After process of elimination, the remaining films limit two in the same genre: Goodfellas or The Godfather III. Why is he not surprised this is something Joe likes? Ryan’s never been into gangster movies himself—someone has to force him to watch the first Godfather actually—so maybe he’s stalling on purpose, even though the line behind him is getting antsy.

      “Sir, you need to make your choice soon. You’re holding up the line,” the box office clerk wheedles impatiently.

He wants to reject both options, if only because Ryan really wants to see Total Recall, but Joe isn’t a Schwarzenegger fan [how is that even possible? He’s amazing as Conan the barbarian]. Part of him wants to see Edward Scissorhands because that’s a unique concept and Nightmare Before Christmas is bizarre in a good way, even if as a kid Ryan finds it scary. But whatever, he has to decide, otherwise not only will people be pissed, Joe will probably walk out on him.

      “Two for The Godfather.” It takes all his willpower not to sigh.

Glancing at Joe, the small smile on his lips tells Ryan he chooses well. That makes him smile in turn as they head to the snack bar.

      “What do you want to eat?” he hears Joe ask, though he shrugs.

      “You decide. I’m pretty cheap.”

Joe doesn’t argue, just orders them a combo popcorn and fishes for his wallet. It occurs to Ryan that Joe’s paying for everything and that makes his face hot with embarrassment. Does that mean—?

      “Is this a date?” Ryan blurts.

It stills Joe from handing over a twenty-dollar bill, his eyes slowly sliding towards Ryan. Ryan swallows nervously, staring back with what he doesn’t realize is anticipated hope.

      “No.”

Joe turns away to gather napkins as Ryan stands, deflated, watching. He doesn’t enjoy the movie as much as Joe does.

2. BOWLING ALLEY

Ryan’s probably never laughed as much as he had since getting out of prison, but witnessing someone as tall as Joe MacMillan try to toss a giant heavy ball down a laminated aisle and miss is ridiculously priceless. More than likely Joe doesn’t appreciate being the butt of the joke, but can’t say he doesn’t laugh either whenever Ryan misses a strike out—which isn’t a lot. He practically grows up on this game thanks to his dad’s company team. Ryan knows how to roll a ball before he knows keystrokes.

So, yes, it’s a little unfair he asks Joe to verse him, knowing the advantage he has, but it feels nice to be good at something again, especially against Joe MacMillan, a man who is seemly flawless at what he puts his mind to, regardless of skill level. [Ryan has seen the man’s code, and while it’s like looking at the aftermath of a wild keg party, there’s still some gold nuggets that can make a decent brewery. He may never be great at it, but he’s not unteachable.] When they decide to pause in Joe’s losing streak—he laughs again at the typical-wounded-ego pout on his face—they stop for a pizza break. Ryan carries a tray over with their huge slices and styrofoam soda cups; the one with the hot-pink crazy-straw indicates Ryan’s Dr. Pepper and the cup with lots of ice is Joe’s Coke. The fries they split. Ryan dunks his in too much ketchup, makes a mess of his shirt, and Joe just looks at him with fond exasperation when he gets more napkins.

      “Do you still think you’re capable of beating me?” Ryan taunts through a grin and half a mouthful of pizza. “I mean, I gotta admit, you got spunk. Don’t think that’s good enough though.”

Joe scoffs goodnaturedly. “You’re sure of yourself. Don’t get cocky, Ryan—”

      “Too late!”

      “―You might be surprised. I could suddenly win this and you wouldn’t even see it coming.” Joe’s steady, self-assured voice causes doubt in any other situation but this one. Ryan’s heard it a few times when they’ve spent hours and days looking for something before finding NSFNet. That tone marks the man’s determination as well as an ace hidden up his sleeve.

Not that Ryan heeds it. There’s no way Joe can turn this around in time. There’s a little over thirty minutes of the game left and Ryan’s ahead by twenty-two. He stuffs the rest of his cheese pizza in his mouth, devours it, and slurps down more Dr. Pepper, shaking his head. “That doesn’t scare me, Joe. You’re all talk.” Ryan smirks. “C’mon, prove it.”

He’s not exactly prepared for that look Joe gives. Like he’s said the wrong thing, or maybe the right thing, to put that fire in his gaze; the way he stands so abruptly just screams You’ll regret that. Ryan watches a little dumbfounded as Joe steps into the little sitting area, food forgotten, then takes a minute to peruse particular bowling balls. He ends up choosing a shiny black one, as if it’s an enlarged 8-ball. It’s a surprise when Joe walks up, stands perfectly still, but suddenly executes a perfect throw with just the right amount of leverage and twist that sends the ball gliding across the lane, knocking down the white pins forming a Greek Church. 

For a dumb moment, Ryan has the impression of pillars of an old god’s temple being destroyed by Joe MacMillan: a cannon ball come to wreck a false way of life.

The next half hour plays out similarly. Joe keeps nailing his shots over and over until he’s caught up to Ryan, who hasn’t said a word to joke or laugh at Joe’s expense. He realizes how easily he’s been played, that Joe is going easy on him earlier, and that miffs him the slightest bit. But in the end it’s Ryan who wins; as good as Joe apparently is at bowling, Ryan’s better.

       “That was fun,” Joe announces on the drive home. “We should do it again sometime.”

       “Yeah, sure,” Ryan answers, distracted, with his attention out of the window. He may still be a little bitter at how Joe played him. So he isn’t expecting the hand on his arm that gains his attention on the man driving instead.

       “Hey, you okay?”

The concern in Joe’s words melt whatever ire builds. Coupled with that glance of caring worry behind horn-rimmed glasses, Ryan simply smiles and shrugs it off. “Yeah, I’m good, I’m good. We’re good.”

Joe smiles, small and delicate, and nods. “Good. Let’s play again sometime,” he encourages.

       “It’s a date,” Ryan agrees mindlessly. 

Joe’s smile doesn’t waver, but his eyes close off. He looks back at the road ahead, stepping on the pedal once the light turns green.

3. PARTY

Ryan’s two hours deep in Mortal Kombat, the joystick of his Nintendo 64 in danger of snapping from how vigorously he jerks it left and right, but he can’t care about that now, so close to K.O.-ing a FATALITY on Rain’s flamboyant, Japanese-purple-poncho, black death mask wearing ass. Ryan didn’t unlock Smoke as a character just to have him look pretty with his long white hair and mysticism. He’s been glued to the console ever since he buys it for himself as an early birthday present. Not even his brand new Microsoft PC has steered him from fighting fictional assassins and ninjas designed by America’s greatest video game developers. 

It’s Joe’s fault anyway.

“Fault” as if Ryan’s mad—hardly. The day Joe hands this gem over in neat red wrapping paper, Ryan swears he falls in love. After replaying [and beating] Super Mario five times, he’s in need of something new; Joe delivers.

Speaking of Joe, a shrill ringing interrupts his gameplay in time for Smoke to land the finishing blow. “Yes!” Ryan praises, leaping up with arms shooting high the same moment Smoke does a victory taunt. Adrenaline plants a wide grin on his lips and he pats the wall for his phone blindly, but eventually grasps it. “Hello?” he breathes, not quite over his excitement.

       “Ryan? It’s Joe.”

        “Joe? Hey, man, perfect timing! I just killed it on Mortal Kombat!”

        “Mortal Kombat?” Joe is genuinely confused. Figures.

       “Yeah, Mortal Kombat, it’s that game you bought me a few weeks ago. For my birthday,” he tacks on just in case he really has forgotten.

       “Right, I remember. I’m glad to know you’re liking it so much. Listen, can you do me a favor? I wouldn’t ask if I had somebody else, but—”

       “What is it, Joe? It’s not like you to stall.”

There’s a pause, and Ryan imagines Joe’s debating telling him never mind and hanging up, but he’s happy he doesn’t. “There’s this thing I have to go to for Gordon. Business party. A lot of investors will be there—I need someone to come with me.”

       “Like a date?”

       “No, nothing like that. It looks bad if I go alone.” Joe is too quick to dismiss the idea, but what else is new. It no longer hurts Ryan’s feelings.

But he does chuckle to hide his scoff. “You don’t think showing up with a guy will look bad?” Ryan points out incredulously. He realizes how bad that sounds though. “Not that I have a problem with it, just—”

       “Will you go with me or not?” Joe demands sharply, his voice like a cold knife.

       “Sure, yeah, yeah, I’ll go. Sure. Look, I’m sorry if I—”

       “Great. I’ll pick you up a six o’clock. Wear something nice.”

The line goes dead. Ryan feels like shit for putting his foot in his mouth and he knows he’s going to make it up to Joe somehow. Over the years the guy’s gotten a little more sensitive about his sexuality, the AIDS epidemic startling him into awareness and caution. Of course Joe’s never taken lightly to cracks about the gay community. Sometimes he can be downright vicious defending it.

Before Ryan has long to mope about his carelessness, he checks the clock. It’s four minutes from 5:00 PM and Joe doesn’t live far. Whatever remorse Ryan feels gets replaced by panicked annoyance at classic Joe MacMillan expecting him to break his neck getting ready in a small window of time. Ryan flicks off his television, then hops over his couch to rush down the hall towards his bedroom, shirking clothes as he goes.

He’s proud of himself when he opens the door to Joe exactly at 6:00, dressed in a starch white button-up, open maroon blazer, and black slacks. The contrast of deep red truly makes his skin glow copper. The way Joe looks him up and down slowly only adds to Ryan’s conceit. It doesn’t even diminish when Joe reaches forward to fix his black bowtie before half-smiling at Ryan. They’ll make quite the pair: Joe also looks dapper in his silver-white three-piece suit, his skin freshly scrubbed clean to give a polished peach gleam. Ryan forgets all about how much he hates parties and whether Joe admits it or not, he tries not to focus on the fact it feels very much like a date.

Ryan pretends Joe doesn’t.

4. COASTLINE

Joe invites Ryan out to the water with him. He tries to teach him to surf. It’s the first and last time he tries as they learn Ryan is stupendously awful at keeping his balance on a surfboard while the waves are rocking. He probably swallows more sea water than is healthy, but at least he coughs up some of it.

On shore Joe hands Ryan a towel that he gratefully accepts, rubbing his messy soaked hair after he’s squeezed out excessive water onto the sand dampening beneath his bum. These wetsuits make Ryan uncomfortable, a little more conservative about the skin-tight fabric than he’d like to be. He wishes he can be like Joe, who struts around in his wetsuit like he’s born to model them, or even something as simple as rolling the top half of it down, scars on display, just to lay on a towel while the sun warms them both. Joe looks mighty comfortable lounging on his back, hands atop his stomach, while Ryan imitates a drowned cat vigorously trying to groom himself. Instead of his tongue he’s got a terry cloth that’s mostly drenched—not much good for drying anymore.

       “I think I’ll leave it to you from now on to be the surfing expert,” Ryan grouses, drawing his knees up to his chest and hugging himself. It’s a silly attempt to heat up faster, but he’ll take what he can get.

Laughing, Joe peeks a bright eye at Ryan. “Come on, you weren’t that bad.”

Ryan snorts, tossing Joe a look as if he’s crazy. “I got booed by a water skier passing by us. I sucked, let’s face it.”

       “They were kind of assholes,” Joe argues mildly.

       “Those assholes weren’t wrong though,” Ryan insists.

Humming, Joe’s quiet for a second as he thinks it over. He comes to a decision shortly. “I suppose you’re right. You were pretty bad.”

Ryan sits up straighter, raising his chin, and affects a haughty air. “Thank you.”

It makes Joe laugh like he intends, yet they both go quiet afterwards. Joe tips onto his side, eyes closed, the corners of his mouth faintly curl up, Ryan staring at him for a second too long. He doesn’t want to say what this feels like—out loud—for fear of Joe shooting the idea down. Rather than humiliate himself more, Ryan bunkers down next to Joe, a respectable amount of space between them without seeming too intimate nor too distant. He tucks his hands behind his head, well on his way to relaxed. Ryan will just keep it to himself how he considers this outing to be a date as well.

5. ARCADE

Ryan has a hard time believing Joe’s never gone to an arcade to actually play on one of the machines. He knows that’s where he and Cameron almost hooked up and where he recruited her, so it possibly has a sour taste in his mouth, but he chooses a different hotspot—plus, it’s not like Joe’s life revolves around a timeline of B.C. and A.C.: “Before Cameron” and “After Cameron.” At least he hopes not. Sometimes when she’s brought up he gets this erstwhile look, one of whimsical nostalgia, but mostly wistful remembrance. Ryan has been trying since the day Joe offers home and heart to him to help remedy that ache, but it may be impossible.

The most he can do is subdue it, except admittedly this isn’t one of his better suggestions for a date. 

       No, not date: hangout.

Now Ryan feels bad. “We can go somewhere else if this if this is too weird for you.”

It’s not a shocker that he’s barely able to finish his sentence before Joe turns on his heel and heads back for the car. Ryan jogs after to keep up, but does give some space. Joe seems a little angry, which is probably better than his sadness. Ryan doesn’t know what to do with sad. Anger? That’s easy.

       “Sorry.”

        “Don’t.”

The ride to Joe’s place is thick with silence. Ryan doesn’t try to talk again, nor after they get inside and Joe handles him a little too roughly when he steers Ryan towards his closed bedroom. In the morning Ryan may have bruises from how tightly Joe holds Ryan’s wrists down or how hard he sinks his teeth in Ryan’s shoulder and he knows for certain he’ll be a little sore sitting because he asks Joe not to hold back [“Just fuck me, Joe. I can handle it.”] and that’s all Joe needs to let himself go and not treat Ryan like some breakable china doll.

In the morning Joe asks Ryan to leave and Ryan does without argument. A couple days later he calls to apologize, regardless if he’s not sure what he’s apologizing for, but Joe accepts it and Ryan feels lighter. Unfortunately they’re both busy after that.

1. DINNER

Obviously he can still be surprised. “You cook?”

Clearly there’s food set out on the table that definitely isn’t store-bought frozen meals or nearby takeout. There’s some flavored rice, what he thinks is cut-up baked fish mixed with vegetables, and  cheesy broccoli. A bottle of sweet red wine even stands between two glasses.

       “Yes, I can cook. Why do you sound so surprised?” Joe’s a bit insulted.

Ryan ignores it as he peels off his coat. “’Cause I mean, you’re Joe MacMillan! Cooking is so… mundane.” That makes him sound like a douche, doesn’t it? “It’s just—you didn’t strike me as the type to like that sort of thing.”

Joe eyes Ryan critically, his hard stare skeptical, like he may have made a mistake. “You’re right. I don’t really enjoy it. But I thought…” He looks across the set table and examines the placement and food choice subconsciously, his hands on the back of a chair. His fingers tighten nervously. “I thought you might like it.”

       “Oh, I do! I really do, you just caught me off guard, is all.” He’s quick to reassure that Joe doesn’t waste his time with this gesture. “This looks great, thanks, man.” Grinning, Ryan moves to take a seat, but is moderately amused when Joe pulls out his chair. Ryan doesn’t comment, simply lowers himself gingerly into the seat, eyes on Joe, full of unasked questions.

He follows suit while he reaches for his napkin and places it on his person properly, treating his dining room as a five-star restaurant. When he looks up at his guest, Ryan scrambles to do the same after a delayed second. 

Joe smiles. “I thought we could try a proper date.”

        “A date?” Ryan must have misheard.

        “A date,” Joe confirms.

Nope, he hears correctly. He’s not sure what to think. “So this is a date then?” he repeats dumbly. It’s hard to believe after Joe denies all the other not-dates they’ve had.

       “If you want it to be,” Joe murmurs, peering at Ryan, fixated. He holds his breath.

Understanding how serious this is, Ryan slowly smiles and he notices the tense line of Joe’s shoulders relax as he breathes. “I want it to be. I do, I really do.”

[whatsthepoop]

YOUR CHARACTER:  IN 5 QUOTES.

tell us your favorite quotes from your character. give us an idea of who they are by five things they’ve said. then tag your friends.

It took me forever to get to this but I wanted to watch PD again before doing this.

I used to think masturbation meant chewin’ your food… I don’t think that anymore.

I hope you and Chuck make it work. I really do. And if you can’t make it work, I hope it doesn’t take forever to figure that out.

There are Commandments, we follow all Ten and I’m commanding you to stop!

The Pie Hole, as in shut your but in this case open your because it’s real good.

For better or worse, Itty Bitty’s always on your side, no questions asked.

TAGGED BY: I legitimately don’t remember, this was in my drafts for literal months. TAGGING: @piiemakcr​, @sycophanticvisionary​, @outofthelight​, @toughlittleguy​

[luxenebrisarchive-blog]

TAGGED BY:  @ofsakuras  (  thank you very much!! <3  ). 1ST RULE:  tag 9 muses you would like to know better:

@rollingsnowsmasher, @sycophanticvisionary, @theciaanalyst, @agentxiii, @demonbitch, @phulusa, @sardcnics, @mcmachine, @deluscr, @smartminded, and anyone else who wants to do this! 

2ND RULE: BOLD the statements that are true for your muse.

APPEARANCE:

I am 5'7" or taller

I wear glasses

I have at least one tattoo

I have at least one piercing

I have blonde hair 

I have brown eyes

I have short hair

My abs are at least somewhat defined

I have or have had braces

PERSONALITY:

I love meeting new people

People tell me that I’m funny

Helping others with their problems is a big priority for me

I enjoy physical challenges

I enjoy mental challenges

I’m playfully rude with people I know well

I started saying something ironically and now I can’t stop saying it

There is something I would change about my personality

ABILITY:

I can sing well

I can play an instrument

I can do over 30 pushups without stopping

I’m a fast runner

I can draw well

I have a good memory

I’m good at doing math in my head

I can hold my breath underwater for over a minute

I have beaten at least 2 people in arm wrestling

I know how to cook at least 3 meals from scratch

I know how to throw a proper punch

HOBBIES:

I enjoy playing sports

I am ( or was ) on a sports team at my school or somewhere else

I’m in an orchestra or choir at my school or somewhere else

I have learned a new song in the past week

I work out at least once a week

I’ve gone for runs at least once a week in the warmer months

I have drawn something in the past month

I enjoy writing ( depends on the type of writing & topic )

I do or have done martial arts

EXPERIENCES:

I have had my first kiss

I have had alcohol

I have scored the winning goal in a sports game

I have watched an entire season of a TV show in one sitting

I have been at an overnight event

I have been in a taxi

I have been in the hospital or ER in the past year

I have beaten a video game in one day

I have visited another country

I have been to one of my favorite band’s concerts

RELATIONSHIPS:

I’m in a relationship

I have a crush on a celebrity

I have a crush on someone I know

I have been in at least 3 relationships

I have never been in a relationship 

I have asked someone out or admitted my feelings to them

I get crushes easily

I have had a crush on someone for over a year

I have been in a relationship for at least a year

I have had feelings for a friend

MY LIFE:

I have at least one person I consider a “best friend”

I live close to my school or on campus

My parents are still together

I have at least one sibling

I live in the United States

There is snow right now where I live

I have hung out with a friend in the past month

I have a smartphone

I have at least 15 CD’s

I share my room with someone 

RANDOM SHIT:

I have break-danced

I know a person named Jamie

I have had a teacher with a last name that’s hard to pronounce

I have dyed my hair

I’m listening to one song on repeat right now

I have punched someone in the past week

I know someone who has gone to jail

I have broken a bone

I have eaten a waffle today

I know what I want to do with my life

I speak at least 2 languages

[bruisedsong-inspo-blog1]

💗

send 💗 to kiss ami | meme | accepting

   she’s in the middle of practicing a part when joe’s in the doorway. of course   ami had given him keys to her apartment ( just in case ya know ? ) but   warned that he should call ahead of time. he hadn’t. he was just there. how   long had he been standing there, behind her back, watching her scribble out   line after line of lyrics, with her sitting on the floor with her hair a mess, her   dirty tank top and shorts just tossed on to keep warm, and the soft hums   floating around the room like clouds in the sky. 

   he wasn’t saying anything, just staring at her. the sun caught her eyes to   make them this bright gold, her hair a gentle, warm chocolate that swirled   against her milky skin at her collar, and she only could stare back for a   second as she stood. 

   she’d said no. tom had asked to see her again and she said no. not after   joe getting shot. not after all the things she’d done. with her father now out,   and her life actually being pulled back together, she needed to do the right   thing. so she’d said no. 

   joe knew. word spreads to him, as if he had the cloud of ami’s life importance   on his top priority list, which, she knew wasn’t really the case. but in this   small room in her apartment, in that instant, she knew why he was there.   a breath. a shaky hello. and he was there. 

   her arms immediately raised up to loop around his neck, hands tugging at   the hair at the nape of his neck, eyes slipping closed to soak in however long   this moment could last. one day ? two years ? it didn’t matter to her. joe was   here with her now. the stitching in her life. he had been a rock for her to   push against when she was needing stability, the voice of reason when she   was out of control. 

   their mouths move out of familiarity, fingers holding and pulling each other   as close as they can, as if to collide in a flurry of hands and flesh. she loved   him. 

   she loved him. she loved him. 

[bruisedsong-inspo-blog1]

❛ i don’t get what you even see in him ❜

jealousy starters | meme | accepting

    ‘ i see… someone who doesn’t want to know about my past. i see something   that i can start over with. i see a new life, a clean slate. i see something warm   and comforting. i see prairie flatland instead of valleys and mountains… but   you know what the funny thing is ? ‘her voice is steady until the last bit, her   teeth biting into the side of her cheek. ‘ he asked me the same question   about you. and i couldn’t answer him.

   i can’t describe what i see in you. you consistently  confound me, bewilder me, and frankly, you drive me up a fucking wall some days.  but he— tom is a safe bet. you said so yourself. so you know what i see ? i see  him trying to find happiness, and i see you with a hand on my shoulder saying  that’s what you really want. ‘