glory & gore.

For the next hour my muse cannot lie and is insanely blunt to any questions they get on anon

“Well, you’ve come to the right place.” she steeples her fingers and forms a ‘wise grin’.

   “You see, my anonymous friend, the trick to getting over a broken heart is...You never really do! No matter how badly the relationship ended..there were some good times. And those are the experiences you can never forget. BUT-- What you can do is grab a pal, grab some bad movies, grab a couple of pints of ice cream and a bottle of vodka and just GO TO TOWN! Us humans, we’re strong! Even the most broken of people can overcome the greatest obstacles.” a deep sigh escapes her, as if speaking from experience.

send one for my muse’s reaction to your muse —

₪ =  asking them out for dinner .

   “I’d love to! You probably have great taste in restaurants, so my faith is in your hands, as well as my stomach.”

send one for my muse’s reaction to your muse —

♬ = singing to them .

“Never knew you had such a voice in you, Book Worm!”

send one for my muse’s reaction to your muse —

▄ = telling them a joke .

Presenting Kate Bishop; clutching her stomach as she barreled over more than a few hearty laughs escaping her, she was always a lover of good puns. And this guy happened to hit her funny bone dead on.

“...Phew, man. I haven’t laughed like that in a while, thanks! Here, I’ll repay the favour.” slapping on her serious face as she composed herself and took a step forward.

           “How did the Italian chef die?”

send one for my muse’s reaction to your muse —

♡ = complimenting them .

           “N’awh, thank you! Don’t make me flustered I’ve only just applied this make-up.”

“A buff med student who is also smooth? You are just the full package aren’t you?”

send one for my muse’s reaction to your muse —

☽ = wandering alone at night .

Kate had just returned to campus from a ‘typical Friday night’ slightly buzzed, very content and most of all; very tired. She didn’t enjoy walking home alone, especially after past incidents, but sometimes you just had to face your fears and accept that fact that no, no matter how much cleavage you showed, the cab driver wasn’t going to drop the fare to ‘free’.

   So here she was, strolling down the concrete path, heels in her hand as her feet protected by just tights continued to make contact with the cold walkway. She really wasn’t expecting anyone else to be around at that time...But here they were, also wandering alone at night.