that’s what i keep saying


[text] Of course it’s 80s. After all of the Patrick Swayze movie marathons you’ve dragged me into, the ’80s’ part kind of goes without saying.

[text] …The ‘dancing’ part kinda goes without saying, too, duh.

[text] Wait, Irene who? What a what?

[text] All right, so long as there’s pizza (WITH ANCHOVIES THIS IS IMPORTANT) I’ll watch your weird 80s dance movie. Mostly because ‘Flashdance’ sounds like a cool superhero name.

[text] Hey. 

[text] Marathons? Sure, I like the guy, but he’s no Patr..

[text] Okay. You got me. I admit it.

[text] Pizza. Anchovies. Check. 

[text] You liked Fame, right? Trust me on this. Flashdance is great. This is gonna be great. You’ll dig. We’ll jam. 80s… Wammies. 

[text] I’m running out of cool, youth-y expressions. Damn skippy?

[text] I’m spamming you. I know, I know. Eight pm work for you? 

April  18   ( 4 )
via & source

———One by one, her fingers fall around the leather-clad end: ivory white against hardened steel, the sword feels surprisingly light between her two hands. She made a promise, months ago — in a whirlwind of speeding cars and narrow roads, she had been pushed aside with a heart pounding through her throat, with sharpened nails leaving a ribbon of bruised skin, tangled lines of blue, white and violet.

She made a promise, once. 

                                            ( She saved me. She saved me. )


Not much older than twenty-three, she wears her age like a hidden wound. She doesn’t think she’s ever been young.

"You set the rules. I made my promise."

Her shoulders are tense. The sword in her hands is not light: it’s heavy.


                                    “What do you want to learn?” 

April  16   ( 2 )


You are a
hurricane of
a girl;

to breathe
every once

and a while,
do not drown
within your
own storm.


— i think i saw you smile once, Emma Bleker (via stolenwine)


Buffy Meme  [2/6] episodes → selfless

[text] No idea what ‘Flashdance’ is, but if pizza’s involved you can count me in.

[text] You haven’t seen Flashdance? Come on. You have to have seen Flashdance. 

[text] 80s. Dancing. Irene Cara. ‘What a feeling’?

[text] …I’m a bad, bad sister. Yikes.

March  19   ( 4 )

Dawnie. Hey. 


              [ she stands still, not much more than a shadow in the late evening light — fingers curled around the brim of the door, her head tilts slightly to the side. 

                              her clothes reeks of patrol; beneath them, a bruise is slowly forming, burning the edge of her thigh. late, it’s late, but she needs to check— just one more time. ]

                                                 Can I come in? 

March  9   ( 2 )


                    b r a · v o
;; A villain, especially a hired killer.

independent official character

6 years of writing experience, 1+ year of roleplay experience on tumblr

multiverse ; multifandom ; multiship

mun is 17 years old, 18 in august

dark themes are always welcomed with open arms

most familiar with spn, dw, sherlock, merlin, btvs/ats, twd
                                       (but always willing to do her research!)

chatsy + multipara + whatever your heart desires

icons + gif icons + anime fc if needed

i’m in no way an actual maniac, i’m super friendly

                                 [ home. ]    [ ask. ]    [ rules. ]
March  9   ( 12 )
via & source
isoutthere: does your mother know that you spend your nights hanging out w/ billy idol

Billy Ido—-


                Okay, Garry Shandling. Thanks for the input.

March  6   ( 3 )

March  5   ( 644 )
via & source


xuncorrupted ] + heelsandstakes ]


    “Your shoes are perfect, man”

[ shoes. someone mentioned her shoes.

                          someone wanted to talk to her about her shoes? ]


                         —-My shoes? Wow. Thank you. 

                                         Yeah—- Manolo Blahnik. I have a tiny, tiny obsession, I think. 

                      [ a breathy laugh escapes her lips as she wraps her arms around her chest, tipping forward ever so slightly.

                                    with a brief glance downwards, her lips curl, traces of bafflement and humor still evident in her facial expressions, her voice. shoes]

                            And— of course, with that I mean… 

                                                              That I have over six pairs. Yep.



[text]Your sister looks younger. And I’m also much hotter.

[text]Besides, there’s even incest in the Bible.

[text] Yeah. ‘Cause the bible is a sensible source to begin with.

[text] That doesn’t change the fact that she’s my sister. As far as I know, you’re wearing her face. She’s not wearing yours.

[text] And, trust me on this— I’ve had it with evil doppelgangers. I really don’t need pictures of my sister in her underwear. Things are already freaky enough.

buffy summers, season five, part II



Yeah, bit bruised an’ worse for wear, but still present an’ bloody accounted for.

[ He watches her subtle movements, noticing her seeming to fold in on herself, and he slides his hands into his pockets, pulling his duster tighter around him.

                     There’s mostly silence. Spike can hear faint noises from inside the Summers’ house — likely her friends forcing themselves into every place that Buffy called her own, and then Dawn, just tryin’ to get by. Buffy’s death sure as hell left a scar, he saw that well enough, but hopefully she’d spring back, end up well. It wasn’t like he’d know. He’d made himself scarce at the house, seeing no point now that he wasn’t welcomed. Apparently bein’ the Nibblet’s babysitter was all he was ever good for. 

It was strange, the isolation out on the porch. Spike steps up the few wooden planks up to the porch and leans against the railing opposite her’s. A loud laugh suddenly breeches the peaceful aura of the backyard. ]

            “Sounds like you’re missin’ out on all the fun. No need to stay out here on my account. Got plenty of things to keep me busy.”

[ It was a lie, mostly, especially considering he had the time to skulk about Buffy’s house, leaving a few cigarette butts littered in her yard. Clem would go with him to that demon bar on the bad side of town, but aside from checking up on the Summers’, Spike would rather just stay in, watch old reruns on the tele, the usual. ]

         ”Sein’ as ‘m one popular bloke around here.”


[ The smirk he shot her was a private one, saved for a rare few. She knew just how popular he was. Considering all the demons and vampires he’d pissed off ever since the chip. ]


             [ the soft light edges over her back, becomes stripes of white against her dark clothes. from inside, she can hear the clatter of hot water against dishes, woven voices and hushed laughter. 

                             the very thought of going back in makes her skin curl.
              spike’s black boots slide over the porch. his duster pours around his bones, drapes his skin. he looks smaller, standing this close. he always does. 

                            she can see him from the corner of her eye. her lips twitch. 

                                                         this is how life is, now. ]

                     Nah. It’s okay.

                                                 [ she tips her head to the side. loose curls untie themselves from the ribbon holding them back, wilts around her ears. soft, the hair tickles her skin, frames her jaw.

         spike’s presence is not sharp. it’s soft. ]

                                                                       I have you here.

                          [ she looks out, out over her garden, their garden. the lights coloring the porch only go so far, she realizes, as she watches the dark outlines of the nearby bushes. the night air fills her lungs, ghosts over her skin; close around her arms like a thin layer of transparent smoke, light fingertips.

                                seconds pass. she doesn’t mind it. ]

                                                             How’ve you been, Spike?