misdiirectionarchive

[misdiirectionarchive]

MOVED!!

same url, but all lovely and clean and clutter free i’ll be continuing all threads over there so!

[misdiirectionarchive]

                  i must endure & endure & still endure

#.self promo #new blog :v #.pray to queue now

[misdiirectionarchive]

MOVED!!

same url, but all lovely and clean and clutter free i’ll be continuing all threads over there so!

[misdiirectionarchive]

                  i must endure & endure & still endure

#.self promo #new blog :v #.pray to queue now

[misdiirectionarchive]

                  i must endure & endure & still endure

#.self promo #itsa me #follow the new bloge :v

[misdiirectionarchive]

MOVED!!

same url, but all lovely and clean and clutter free i’ll be continuing all threads over there so!

#.ooc #i'll queue this a few times :v

[misdiirectionarchive]

i might just work on doin up my icons tonight :v

#.ooc #i've only got a few replies anyway #i've got adri's new blog all set up so i just gotta finish getting these all done #/v/

[misdiirectionarchive]

           the lack of an answer makes things easier, reduces the need for careful consideration of any words he might think to offer from that stupid mouth of his. he’s always dealt with silence better than anything else ( familiar when he grew up in it for as long as he did ), finds a comfort in the easy motions of wiping damaged skin clean without the worry of a conversation to keep going; he’s used to the lack of talking when the only company he has is of the feline variety, friends a thing that sit far and few between.

           it might be a minute or two, he’s hardly keeping track, before he finishes, settles back to let his gaze roam over dean’s face in affirmation that that’s as clean as he’s going to get. “there.” and here’s where he’ll offer a smile that threatens laughter, curled lips easing any remnants of worry from his expression. “you want a band-aid? they’ve got cats on them.”

      there’s a yes on the tip of his tongue, but it stays put, the hunter continuing to grin; from time to time, he prefers lies instead of truths, but it’s a preference wrought from too much hurt, and a discussion far too heavy for the current moment–and for any future moments if dean’s lucky (which he hardly ever is.) so, instead of spitting out a reply or staying silent and making things tense he laughs, shaking his head quickly before dropping his gaze to his rough, dirty hands, splotches of dried crimson crusted against his thumb and palms—-a result of dean holding his nose to keep the blood flow under control. 

      it’s mesmerising, calming, a slight grumble building in his throat as adrian continues to clean his wounds, the occasional sting from the alcohol prompting a grunt; but dean never looks up from his hands, blunt nails scraping away flakes of red and brown, jaw clenching as he waits for adrian to tell him that he’s done.

#.lazaruscomplex #.mini #( |v.i)

[misdiirectionarchive]

u never realise how many icons u have until u go to edit them 

#.ooc #why am i doing this #/A/

[misdiirectionarchive]

I’d have been dead and buried long ago, if I wasn’t so afraid of the unsolvable mystery of what comes next.

aworldofdisbelief  (via wordsnquotes)

#( •contemplation) #.pray to queue now

[misdiirectionarchive]

#( •this place is a shelter) #.pray to queue now

[misdiirectionarchive]

her words are dismissed with a childish huff, lip curling upwards in an expression of his displeasure at the suggestion that he, with all his soft edges and niceties, is involved with gangs ( perhaps in his younger days, when self preservation wasn’t so high on his list, but not now ).

           “it’s probably not even important.”

      “— ‘s kind of what it’s for.”

it would be easy for cristina to pull out her phone or one of the many journals she has stranded in that bottomless purse of hers, but a pesky twinge of pity stops her from turning on the man, now: that and the oncoming collection of inquiries she has as to his presence and paper the subject of his frustration.

               “if this is about a GANG i’m out.”

#.sangradura #.banter #honestly it's probs smth rlly dumb like his neighbour tellin him to stop feeding the damn strays #( |v.i)

[misdiirectionarchive]

Arm finds the touch of warm, paint covered metal, blunt fingertips drumming a tuneless rhythm in what might be thought, wordless contemplation of the other’s situation. He’s not a generous man, never has been and probably never will be, but his spine has never been particularly strong in times like these either. Pliable. He’s always been pliable ( and perhaps a touch sympathetic for a place he knows too well ).

Lips purse, suddenly finding themselves dry with the mention of drinks; the road has stretched before him for hours; an easily readable silence offered for a fleeting second before he jerks his head towards the passenger door and reaches to wind the radio down to comfortable background chatter.

           “Get in.”

     Colour him pleasantly surprised when car begins to slow, re-      affirming that Zevran does, in fact, exist.  Such a strange, disso-      ciating thing, to be so far from the CROWD and NOISE of city life      that he has become so accustomed to – and then to be gazed th-      rough as if he is nought but the dry dust settled on ground below f-      eet.  A proper smile, then, for the stranger who STOPPED.  Even      if they do not go the same way, a rare kindness on this long day w-      ill be remembered.

                       He KNEELS first to settle fingertips round the straps of      his bags, answering second.  Optimistic, maybe.  DESPERATE is      also possible.  Zevran won’t actually move forward until company      is accepted, however.

                       “Anywhere, really – that isn’t  …  here, at least.  Perha-      ps the nearest corner of CIVILISATION that sells alcohol.  Or bett-      er yet, gives it away for FREE.”

#.antivcn #.mini #//ahhHh you're too kinD /A\ #( |v.i)

[misdiirectionarchive]

Most likely, meaning she’s not entirely certain ( and here he’d thought she’d be certain about everything she does, not one to strike him as the type to do things blind ).

“What makes you think that I’d know where she lives if I do know her?”

How does she even know what business he’s in? He makes sure to keep it written from his face when trouble would be a thing too often caused. 

“We have a mutual acquaintance.”

Really, she should be applauded for having acquaintances at all, one would assume. Mariya is not good at sentiment but she sees reluctance and she knows it. The question emerges how she reacts.

“I should provide further clarification in that this woman is a business acquaintance of mine, and most likely of yours’. I need the address of her residence.”

An address she could, admittedly, work out with a laptop and four or five hours, but this is much more intriguing, is it not?

#.todeny #.banter #sass her for adri #he's too scared to #( |v.i)

[misdiirectionarchive]

there’s so much clutter on this blog ughgh

#.ooc #is it time 2 remake #:/

[misdiirectionarchive]

       i never know if anyone actually reads this part, so i’ll do my best ( and fail miserably ) at keeping this short and sweet. i’m just on the brink of a HUGE milestone, and while follower count isn’t a major factor in my behaviour on here, i do believe it’s worth appreciating and saying thank you to you all for sticking around. this is my way of giving something back to thecommunity, should you wish it. it’s been a long ride with ups and downs, and i don’t plan on leaving just yet.

RULES.

       as it states, this is a follower giveaway so you must be following me.        only reblogs count, but you can  like the post to bookmark it.        you can reblog as much as you like, but please spare your followers’ dashes.        as some of these prizes are real, you must be willing to provide an address, etc.        not comfortable with that? no problem. exchange the prize for icons, themes, gifs, etc.        winners are randomly generated — if you don’t reply, the prize will be passed on.        the giveaway has no determined end date as of yet, and needs 50+ notes.

PRIZES.

       5 people will win an icon pack of 150 icons, styled to their choosing.        5 people will win a gifset of a character/ship/theme/etc. of their choosing.        3 people will win a theme makeover, with details discussed to their liking.        3 people will win a POP! figurine of their choice, provided I can order it online.        3 people will win a beanie, which I will choose according to blog/person.        1 person will win 2 concert tickets to a concert of their choosing.        1 person will win a video game for a console of their choosing.

as you can see, it’s quite a mixed bag, hoping to cater with interests suited to everyone! and of course, my renowned affinity for beanies make a cameo appearance. thank you again for following me, and GOOD LUCK.

#.giveaway #:vvv

[misdiirectionarchive]

#( •what kind of fool am i) #.pray to queue now