𝙷𝚄𝙶𝙷𝙸𝙴.

﹙ temp pinned ﹗ ﹚

// dilemma… I love my layout but I also adore this picture. So I’m just going to post it here so I could look at it while I try to revamp this account.

» of interpretation which could likely garner the wrong impression, and he couldn’t risk that. The simplicity of opening up a conversation was one step closer to getting that one-on-one discussion he needed with her. Anticipation danced at his fingertip as be pressed send.

» backspaced an entire paragraph’s worth of word vomit and swapped it for a cool: “Hey!” Lacklustre, and quite possibly cringe, he knew that much. The thing with texts were the flat and open surface of a screen with scrambled words and a message that was at the complete mercy »

{starter for @cordacaecus} Hughie, a well-meaning and kind —albeit chronic sufferer of foot-in-mouth syndrome, stood dumbfounded with his brow furrowed, his concentration focused deeply on what he could possibly say to Annie that might get him back within her good graces. He »

┈┈ 𝘏𝘌𝘓𝘓𝘖 ? ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ 𝖲𝖳𝖠𝖱𝖳𝖤𝖱 𝖢𝖠𝖫𝖫* ﹗ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀﹙  * 𝗆𝗎𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗅𝗌 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒.  ﹚

{ NEW! Halloween layout. }

/ hello! I would love some interactions here! I’ll make a proper starter call tomorrow, but like I’m open to plotting or whatever. I’m returning back to rp after a LONG break, so just bear in mind I’m a little rusty. >.<

» have to just suck it up and keep pressing on, like always. With a huff, he circled back to his desk and packed up his things to leave for the night. {END}

» and helpless. A certain strand of hopelessness that he had grown accustomed to since getting mixed up with the boys and Annie, and yet he wouldn’t trade any of his people for that lost sense of security his old life had given him… Despite the ragged state he was in, he’d »

» state of things now in the steadying rise of the social unrest he couldn’t escape. Hughie in particular felt the weight of the thumb Homelander had on the non-Supe populace, without the enticing shield of V24 — no matter how temporary the effects had been, he was vulnerable »

» screech across the floor to the wall. As if he could get up and leave his problems behind, but they trailed behind him like imprinted ducklings. He paced the floor, turning over his thoughts in his mind, the last words his father had said to him, the pressing matter of the »

» mind breezed through varying degrees of metaphorical scenarios that matched the questions at hand. Like were there fires he needed to put out? Smother the flame, before the smoke clouded his lungs and stifled his own. He pushed off from his desk chair, making the old wheels »

» colors. Where was the next fire? Or better yet, would he survive the next go around? Could he possibly tap out and get in on the next round? A bit of an IOU to life? Just put a pause to everything and come back to it later. Just to give him some damn reprieve. His »

» his psyche was his father’s abrupt and tragic passing. It made everything that had happened in the short while after feel like a freight train running over him, over and over again. Adding insult to injury. A poison to rest of the piece, and washing it in dull and dreary »

» peaky skin tone of his hand. His habit did little to lull the anxiety that buzzed in his chest like trapped bumble bees. All of the bizarre events that were usual fixtures to the motley mosaic that was his life, where all but one in recent memory had been so detrimental to »

{SOLO} Hughie sat alone in the vast and empty office space of the boys, distracted and chewing on his thumb nail, slowly from corner to corner just to be thorough. Leaving the nail jagged but short, and his irritated fingertip, a deep flush of color to contrast to the otherwise »

“——ah!”