dimhues-blog

[dimhues-blog]

for @unfamiliarties​!

Luke could hear the clanking of a spoon against his countertop, and he knew an impatient customer was waiting on him to pour them a cup of coffee. But at present he was cleaning up after a spilled juice debacle, and his patience was wearing dangerously thin. Whoever this person was, he was going to make them wait even longer just out of spite.

When the clanking grew louder in volume and faster in pace, he could practically feel the tempo throbbing in his temple. His original plan had been to ignore the perpetrator but now, Luke was too pissed off to let it go on.

“Will you knock that off already--” he began, voice stern and filled to the brim with aggravation until he stopped abruptly. This wasn’t the middle-aged asshole guy he was figuring it would be on the other side of the counter. Instead, the hand clanking a spoon against the table was attached to someone very attractive -- and Luke was loath to admit it at the moment. Rethinking his approach, he cleared his throat and stood up a little straighter. 

“Y’know, you don’t need to clank the spoon like that. I can hear you. I’m just busy doing--” he trailed off, gesturing vaguely to the spill he’d been cleaning up moments before. “I was in the middle of something, but I was gonna get to you. But now I guess you have my attention,” Luke sighed, reaching to his pocket to grab his notepad. “What’re you in such a big rush for?”

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i’m like a lot of roleplayers on here and get shy sometimes about messaging people to plot. so this post is just to say -- if we haven’t plotted anything together yet and you’d like to, please like this post to let me know! it’ll give me the lil nudge i need to stop being shy and just Do The Thing.

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Leigh Bardugo Quote Starters

A collection of rp starters from all of Leigh Bardugo’s books, because I love her. And Six of Crows was an absolute masterpiece. Challenge; If you reblog this from an RP blog, send them one!

“What’s the easiest way to steal a man’s wallet?“ 

“Knife to the throat?”

“Gun to the back?”

“Poison in his cup?”

“Many boys will bring you flowers. But someday you’ll meet a boy who will learn your favorite flower, your favorite song, your favorite sweet. And even if he is too poor to give you any of them, it won’t matter because he will have taken the time to know you as no one else does. Only that boy earns your heart.” 

“I would have come for you. And if I couldn’t walk, I’d crawl to you, and no matter how broken we were, we’d fight our way out together-knives drawn, pistols blazing. Because that’s what we do. We never stop fighting.”

“The heart is an arrow. It demands aim to land true.”

“No mourners. No funerals.”

“I missed you every hour. And you know what the worst part was? It caught me completely by surprise.”

“It’s not natural for women to fight.“

"It’s not natural for someone to be as stupid as he is tall, and yet there you stand.”

“I will have you without armor. Or I will not have you at all.”

“When everyone knows you’re a monster, you needn’t waste time doing every monstrous thing.”

“My ghost won’t associate with your ghost.”

“The problem with wanting is that it makes us weak.”

“The water hears and understands. The ice does not forgive.”

“I’m a business man. No more, no less.”

“You’re a thief.”

"Isn’t that what I just said?”

“When people say impossible, they usually mean improbable.”

“The less you say, the more weight your words will carry.”

“We are all someone’s monster.”

“Fear is a phoenix. You can watch it burn a thousand times and still it will return.”

“I am not ruined. I am ruination.”

“Please, my darling, treasure of my heart, won’t you do me the honor of acquiring me a new hat?”

“Watch yourself, princes bleed just like other men.”

“Yes. They just do it in better clothes.”

“I have been made to protect you. Only in death will I be kept from this oath.”

“What is infinite? The universe and the greed of men.”

“Anything worth doing always starts as a bad idea.” 

“I will strip away all that you know, all that you love, until you have no shelter but mine.”

“Make me your villain.”

“Men mock the gods until they need them.”

“Crows remember human faces. They remember the people who feed them, who are kind to them. And the people who wrong them too. They don’t forget. They tell each other who to look after and who to watch out for.”

"Let’s not say things we don’t mean, my love.”

"You’re better than waffles.”

“But I’ve also been known to answer to ‘sweetheart’ or ‘handsome.’”

“Greed may do your bidding, but death serves no man.”

“You love trickery.”

“I love puzzles. Trickery is just my native tongue.”

“The easiest way to steal a man’s wallet is to tell him you’re going to steal his watch. You take his attention and direct it where you want it to go.”

“Scheming face.”

“Greed is your god.”

"Greed bows to me. It is my servant and my lever.”

"You and I are going to change the world.”

“And there’s nothing wrong with being a lizard either. Unless you were born to be a hawk.”

“How many times have you told me you’re a monster? So be a monster. Be the thing they all fear when they close their eyes at night.”

“Maybe love was superstition, a prayer we said to keep the truth of loneliness at bay.”

“You aren’t a flower, you’re every blossom in the wood blooming at once. You are a tidal wave. You’re a stampede. You are overwhelming.”  

“Oh, and the easiest way to make someone furious is to tell them to calm down.”

“And that was what destroyed you in the end: the longing for something you could never have.”

“I don’t hold a grudge. I cradle it. I coddle it. I feed it fine cuts of meat and send it to the best schools. I nurture my grudges.”

“There are two thrones on that dais. You could see me any time you liked.”

"I’m not used to people trying to kill me.”

“This action will have no echo.”

“I hope you weren’t looking to me to be the voice of reason. I keep to a strict diet of ill-advised enthusiasm and heartfelt regret.”

“I like to have powerful enemies. Makes me feel important.“

“You have a way of talking that makes me want to shoot someone. Preferably you.”

“People point guns at each other all the time here. It’s basically a handshake.”

“Do you answer a question directly?”

“Hard to say. Ah, there, I’ve done it again.”

“Weakness is a guise. Wear it when they need to know you’re human, but never when you feel it.”

“You can’t spend his money if you’re dead.”

“I’ll acquire expensive habits in the afterlife.”

"Everyone needs a hobby.”

“This whole ‘shoot me’ thing is starting to concern me.”

“Suffering is like anything else. Live with it long enough, you learn to like the taste.”

“You know the problem with heroes and saints? They always end up dead.”

“Where do think the money went?“

“I’m perfectly capable of being stupid on my own.”

"I came here for you. You’re my flag. You’re my nation.”

“We are alike as no one else is, as no one else will ever be.”

"I’ve had a lot of nicknames, but that one is easily the most accurate.”

“If only you could talk to girls in equations.”

“Always hit where the mark isn’t looking.”

“Who’s Mark?”

“I like to have powerful enemies. Makes me feel important.”

“It’s a vow that if I can’t be anything else to you, at least I can be a weapon in your hand.”

“What is infinite? The universe and the greed of men.”

“Do you have a different name for killing when you wear a uniform to do it?”

“Brick by brick, I will destroy you.” 

“Do you blame me for every mistake I made? For every girl I tumbled? For every dumb thing I’ve said? Because if we start running tallies on stupid, you know who’s going to come out ahead.”

“Well, if it gets too bad, give me a signal, and I’ll get up on the banquet table, toss my skirt over my head, and do a little dance. That way no one will be looking at you.”

“Did you tell him what I showed you in the dark?”

“When we get our money, you can burn it to keep you warm.”

“I’m going to pay someone to burn my money for me.”

“Why don’t you pay someone else to pay someone to burn your money for you? That’s what the big players do.”

“I can’t decide if you’re a fearmonger or a coward.”

“And I can’t decide if you’re an idiot or an idiot.”

“Maybe your tutors didn’t cover this lesson, but you do not argue with a man covered in blood and a knife up his sleeve.”

“You wouldn’t know a good time if it sidled up to you and stuck a lollipop in your mouth.”

“Thanks for being my best friend and making my life bearable. Oh, and sorry I fell in love with you for a while there.”

“Facts are for the unimaginative.”

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waywardhearts‌:

    He feels his cheeks heat up as his blood rises to his face and ears, embarrassed by the jump and the alarmed sound that comes out of his mouth the second Baz enters the room. His hands instinctively go towards his side, ready to call upon the sword of mages. He has half a mind to but then his brain seems to catch up to realize that there’s no real threat and it’s only Baz. Not that Baz isn’t a threat, because he definitely is, but luckily the anathema stops them from hurting each other in this room. Which also makes it a perfect place to make a temporary truce.

     There is no reason for Baz to be such a stereotypical villain; with his hair slicked back in an always perfect direction not a strand out of place, a widows peak that does nothing but enhance his perfectly poised face, smelling as good as a fucking candle even when he’s just come out of the catacombs, being charming enough that nobody suspects him to be the villain that he is, and always quietly walking about and sneaking up on Simon. It’s so fucking annoying and Simon’s the only one who seems to have noticed.

     “I’m not sifting through your stuff! I’m just. You. And your TiMER.” I just need your fucking help, Baz Pitch. Not a difficult sentence to get out and yet his mouth doesn’t know how to shape them. It’s infuriating when his brain jumbles up his own thoughts and leaves Simon floundering for words. It’s a problem he’s always had, especially when he’s nervous. And he is so nervous right now. He’s nervous about Baz saying no, about being ridiculed, but most of  he’s so fucking nervous about the prospect of not having a future at all. 

     Simon inhales sharply while passing a hand through his curls. “I want to get a TiMER but I’m-” Scared shitless of the answer, of the procedure itself, of not knowing if he’ll be able to handle whatever happens next.  

     “I need you to come with me and…in return we’ll have a truce. Temporarily.”

Someone like Snow ought to be more poised, or at least have some semblance of self-control. Being the Mage’s prodigy should bring with it some kind of dignity. Instead, Baz was forced to watch Snow stammer through his sentences on a daily basis, butchering the English language and bastardizing the spells he attempted to cast in every way imaginable.

And yet, somehow, even his tendency to trip over words was charming. Absolutely unbecoming, of course. But very endearing. Baz wished it was just a stupid trait so he wouldn’t be dwelling on it so much.

“What about it?” Baz spit out, exasperated already with the conversation. 

When Snow finally spit it out, Baz took a few seconds to drink the situation in. This didn’t make sense -- even for a buffoon like him. Admittedly, he had noticed Simon’s lack of a TiMER before, and it was disheartening to know that he couldn’t even have the certainty of their mismatched TiMERS to realize they weren’t soulmates. There was still the fleeting, ever-dimming false hope that Baz carried with him. But this would mean that he would know for sure. The intermittent stuttering and stopping of his own TiMER would be explained once and for all. 

Even if the answer wasn’t one he wanted, at least he would know. That peace of mind was extremely tempting to Baz. But he wasn’t at all convinced of his necessity in the situation, or why Snow would want him there at all.

“I don’t see why you wouldn’t just have Bunce accompany you,” he answered, truthfully wondering what was stopping Snow from asking her, but also not terribly opposed to the idea of going with Simon himself. He just needed more information before hopping into it. And if that meant making Snow grovel a little, then that would just be a pleasant treat.

“What do I get from this arrangement? You can throw around the word truce all you want, but it’s typically you starting our feuds, what with your ridiculous temper and loose lips. Do I gain something during this truce?”

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storytelers‌:

“Jerry!” raven hair tumbles over her shoulders as she looks all around her, searching for another face in the path; for Anne, for another well meaning school fellow, for her mother to jump off a tree and continue overreacting about her night spent at the Baynard; but besides the silent trees and the chirping birds, they are all alone in the path. “What are you doing here?” the question leaves her lips in a rush, red staining white cheeks with worry and maybe, just a dash of hopeful pink, to match the glimmer in her dark eyes.

@dimhues​ has made me feel a lot of things at 8am.

Diana, up until recently, had always been someone on the periphery of Jerry’s life. As Anne’s closest friend, she could frequently be seen at Green Gables. If he was being honest with himself, Jerry always hoped to see her there even if they only spoke to each other once in a while. If not for his work at Green Gables and Anne’s connection to Diana, Jerry knew he wouldn’t ever cross paths with someone like her. Their social circles would never overlap -- a fact that the majority of Avonlea would never let him forget.

But, as of late, Diana was becoming increasingly more present in his life. And if he were to visit her himself, was that truly such a bad thing?

“Est-ce que je t'ai fait peur?” he asked, laughing softly at her surprise. “I wanted to see you again. Is that okay?”

For a moment, Jerry worried that this was one-sided -- maybe he’d made a mountain out of a molehill and Diana held no more interest for him than a passing stranger. But the rosy pink on her cheeks gave Diana’s feelings away, ushering in relief and gratitude for Jerry.

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waywardhearts‌:

@dimhues | plotted !

     When you grow up as an orphan you eventually reach an age where you have to let go of your stupid fantasies; mum and dad coming to get you, getting adopted, having friends, growing up like a normal kid, having a soulmate. The kids who grow up in homes don’t typically have TiMERs, unless they come in at a later age because their parents died from some freak accident or some shit. When you’re dropped off at the doorstep as a baby, like Simon was, you don’t get a TiMER. Not unless you’re adopted, become of age and get it done yourself, or just have someone in your life who gave enough of a shit about you to take you to get the procedure done. 

     There were many nights that Simon would lay awake thinking about his soulmate, whoever they were, they were out there waiting for him. He may not have had a TiMER but it was always a comforting thought. Because even if your parents didn’t want you, at least there was the guarantee that there was someone out there who would. And when you’re a kid that nobody wants, a kid who gets no families interested in adopting him, a kid that has no friends, the idea of your soulmate is all you have to hold onto. You grow up clinging to the thought of them, hoping that they’ll make up for lack of love you’ve received thus far. 

     But there comes a time where you have to learn how to let go of these stupid fantasies. For Simon, it happened when he was eleven years old. When the Mage comes to the children’s home to tell him he’s special. These wishes become obsolete when they tell you you’re a mage. You have magic and not just any bland magic, you’re the most powerful mage in the world of Magicks. You were prophesied and people have been waiting for you to come save them. You go from being the least wanted person on earth to being the Chosen One. And for a while it makes you feel needed, important, and a little less alone. Even without a soulmate. 

     Perhaps it’s why Simon never felt the need to get one, even after he turned sixteen. Being the Chosen One takes up a lot of your time, chasing around a villain that’s taken the form of your eleven year old self is no easy feat. Not to mention following his roommate around to try and prove what he’s known for years; that Baz is a vampire, that he’s plotting to kill Simon, that he’s a wanker. And of course, the girl he’s had a crush on since the he first laid eyes on her agreed to go out with him regardless of his nonexistent TiMER. 

     Agatha has a TiMER but it went off the day she got it as a child, and not because she found her soulmate. The only people in the room with her were her parents and the doctors who were implanting it on her wrist. Penny says that there are rare cases where a person doesn’t have a soulmate, so the TiMER goes off on it’s own right away. But she also says that Agatha is just her own soulmate and doesn’t need someone else to complete her. Simon likes to believe it’s the latter because Agatha is a beautiful person, almost ethereal with her long pale hair blowing in the wind. Even standing next to her makes you feel like you’re standing next to the sun. It makes sense that there isn’t anyone on earth that can match up to her. The fact that she agreed to date him made Simon forget about the stupid TiMERs.  

     Penny always told him to get one anyway. “What’s the point in dating someone if they’re not your soulmate? You already know it’s not going to work out.”

     “But Agatha doesn’t have a soulmate.”

     “Exactly, Simon! But you might, and you’re both just wasting each other’s time.”

Keep reading

Living with Simon Snow was always an experience -- and not just because he was coined The Chosen One from the moment he set foot into Watford, though that was a challenge all on its own. There were the smaller, more mundane things that drove him crazy about sharing space with Snow.

The first and perhaps most worrisome was that the boy was liable to burst into flames at any point in time. Snow was a walking hazard, so filled to the brim with magic that he didn’t know how to channel properly. Baz couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to have magic humming so intensely in his body at all times. It was certainly power he wouldn’t want to see placed in the hands of some individuals, such as the Mage. Though having Snow in the palm of his hand like he did amounted to the same thing, Baz knew.

Simon was too naive to notice that a maniacal monster had been lurking over his shoulder for years now, of course. His naivety was just one of his many, many flaws. 

Of them, Simon Snow was a messy and frequent eater. Nourishing himself was something that Baz struggled with in general, but being around Snow made it even worse. The boy could pack snacks and tea away like no one’s business, scarfing it all down effortlessly while leaving a mess of crumbs in his wake. Additionally, he was disorganized within their shared room. Somehow his socks and shoes always found their way to Baz’s side of the room, which he would then kick over to Simon’s area with disgust. Was it really so hard to be tidy? For all the magic Snow possessed, he refused to use a drop of it to square away his belongings. Baz regularly lamented how much of a waste it was. 

For all the things about Simon that enraged Baz, the most frustrating were the ones he had no idea he even did: how when he shook his head, his curls would bounce in a way that made Baz wish he could touch them. How he looked when he was asleep, limbs strewn in all directions across his twin bed, the sun playing beautifully against his features. How he looked in the hallways of Watford, walking alongside Bunce in a way that suggested he had no idea how handsome he was -- as if he didn’t see the people eying him in the hall with curiosity and admiration. 

How he was the most powerful, fascinating, and beautiful mage that ever existed, and he was totally fucking clueless about it. 

What a waste.

Baz wished he didn’t care about Simon Snow, because he could be placing that energy on so many other, more important things. He wouldn’t lose sleep while overthinking the more-than-likely-coincidental stutter from his TiMER whenever he was within reach of Snow. It wouldn’t happen if they were across the room from one another, but if Baz was close enough to touch his shoulder ( something he would never let himself do, other than to provoke the other mage ) then he would feel a start from his otherwise motionless TiMER. It was probably meaningless. Simon himself didn’t have a TiMER, from what he knew. And in truth, he wouldn’t be surprised to learn that Snow’s power was so immense that it even had an effect on TiMERs. It was a far more plausible explanation than the only other reason it could be. 

Snow and Wellbelove were meant to be, after all. TiMER or no, it felt like the inevitable thing to happen. If not Agatha, then any number of beautiful girls would be lined up at Snow’s door. A queer vampire bloke with a chip on his shoulder wouldn’t make the cut -- not even close.

Baz’s musings about how gratifying it would be to throttle and then kiss Snow only grew more vivid as he arrived back to their room after class. It struck him as odd to see him pacing the short length between their beds. Baz’s guard instantly went up, a scowl on his face as he approached him.

“Are you sifting through my belongings, Snow?” he accused, dropping his messenger bag to the floor with a heavy thud. “There’s a simple rule -- stay on your side of the room. It’s been established for years now and I don’t understand why you can’t get it through your thick skull.”

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kindred spirits

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@rory-writes

If Jess was allowing himself a moment to be his idealistic, hopeless romantic self, ( loathe as he was to admit those traits existed ) he would have realized that he was always hoping to run into Rory Gilmore while in Stars Hollow. Though she clearly had branched off and created her own life elsewhere, much like he himself had, the town felt so tethered to her presence there -- even more so than his own uncle. But the last few times he’d visited Luke, Rory hadn’t been around.

And maybe it was for the best, given all their history. The two of them never seemed to be on the same page at the same time. It was a bittersweet occasion whenever they ran into one another and saw just how incompatible their lives were. All the same, Jess relished every moment in her company, always caught up in nostalgia and a persistent sense of what-if. And he knew that ultimately, he only wished the best for Rory -- even if he had nothing to do with her path in life.

Jess mulled this over while he left Luke’s, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets. All of his wishful thinking had him skeptical when he saw a brunette woman turn the corner, her stature and hair startlingly similar to Rory. He slowed his stride, attempting to get a better look without potentially creeping out a stranger. As the distance between them closed, Jess realized that it was indeed Rory, and that knowledge was enough to get his heart leaping.

“Fancy meeting you here,” he called out, offering her a grin. “What’re you doing in town?” Jess asked, attempting to snuff out his excitement and gratitude so she wouldn’t notice them. His own emotions were embarrassing enough without her bearing witness to them.

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here’s a super simple promo ~

i’m a multimuse account featuring muses from YA lit and various tv shows! take a peek at my muse list here and feel free to follow or message for plotting!

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gilmore girls meme: [1/08] characters | luke danes

“Yeah I’m fine, I’m great. It’s a big, fat, happy sunshine day for me.”

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Rachel McAdams as Clare Abshire DeTamble on The Time Traveler’s Wife (2009) Part 2/4  

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Aesthetic Meme: 9/10 relationships (Katniss x Peeta) 

What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again. And only Peeta can give me that. 

So after, when he whispers, “You love me. Real or not real?” I tell him, “Real.”

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Riko was supposedly handpicking the future US National Team. He called it THE PERFECT COURT, and even though it was unofficial and unbelievably arrogant, his talent and upbringing gave some credibility to the idea.