There wasn't much to say after that

It’s been a good run. I love you guys. Happy roleplaying <3 ))

― Albert Camus

Ⓦ

E. Lockhart, from We Were Liars  (via oathbroken)

…and are willing to share it with people that want to get to know you

name: Rebs nicknames: Bun birthday: May 29th. gender: ???????? sexual orientation: maybe favorite color: purple time and date at current moment: Jan 5 12:55 pm average hours of sleep: 7 usually lucky number: 29 last thing i googled: "how many women are in congress" first word that comes to mind: rent one place that makes me happy: my room how many blankets i sleep under: one favourite fictional character:  d on't ask me to pick..... book:  I LIKE A LOT OF BOOKS BUT THE NIGHT CIRCUS BY ERIN MORGENTSTERN IS SO GOOD animation: who konws bruh tv show: parks and rec is p good favourite beverage: tea ofa ll kinda favourite food: edible last movie i’ve seen in cinemas: the imitation game dream holiday: visiting friends! dream wedding: marrying my friend platonically. not legally just a wedding for like look at how great of friends we are dream job: game dev

"You know well as I do so long as ya follow orders and can ignore morals they ain’t gonna fire you." Zoen replied almost impatiently. "Now don’t be such a spoilsport. Not much better to do around here."

"I have my own personal standards, then." His mouth twisted into a small frown. "I'm not a spoilsport if there's no sport to begin with. Please respect that I don't want anything to do with you outside of work."

Approaching the bars, she gripped them weakly with both hands to aid her stability. “I know, I’m just growing impatient," she huffed, leaning her forward against the bars in front of her that kept them separated; kept them protected from her. "I apologize, I don’t mean to be so glum. How is work?”

Watching Nico support herself ached in Michael's chest, but there was little he could do. He'd seen the worst of this place, and she was not among the most dangerous at all. He was in no place to comfort others, but he wanted to at least try. "You're hurt. Nobody blames you for being down." At her question, he shrugged. "Work is work. I'm here."

Franz Kafka, from Letters To Felice (via violentwavesofemotion)

(reverse meme here!)

”Mmm, I feel a little better. They say my ribs have fully healed," she informed him with a weak shrug. With a small laugh, she pointed to the wrappings around her head that kept her eye bandages in place. "I wish they’d take these off, however. They can get a bit itchy." 

He nodded at her confirmations. Bandages were uncomfortable, he knew from experience, but casts were even more so. He wouldn't tell her that her pain could be worse, though; to discount her feelings would be insensitive. "They'll take them off when you heal, which I hope is soon."