Mobile And Hanging Out With My Nephews, Etc. Hit The Heart And Ill Send Anne To Invade Your Inbox? Meme

Mobile and hanging out with my nephews, etc. Hit the heart and I’ll send Anne to invade your inbox? Meme tags/links appreciated but not necessary.

𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 ♡

“I never noticed your eyes were this [colour].”

“Your heartbeat’s really loud.”

“You asleep?”

“I like this, being so close to you.”

“Your hair keeps falling into your eyes, do you know that? Here, lemme just—”

“You’re so, so, so pretty.”

“I just — I’m breathless, okay? Whenever I’m with you, it happens.”

“You make my heart beat so quick.”

“You always know how to make me smile.”

“You’ll always be safe with me.”

[Kisses the other on the cheek]

“Always.”

“I can’t imagine being anywhere but here with you.”

“All my choices lead me to you.”

“I’ll never give you up.”

“I sleep better if you’re around.”

“You snore in your sleep. But… it’s adorable, okay?”

“I like this. A quiet breakfast with you.”

“There’re billions of people on this planet, and I love you. How incredible is that?”

“I trust you.”

[Holds the other’s hand when they think the other won’t notice]

“You keep staring at me instead of watching the film. What’s up?”

“Let’s push all of these stuff away. I wanna dance here right now with you.”

“Are we really doing this? Are we really slow-dancing?”

“When you laugh like that, it just — you’re so beautiful, you know that?”

“No, sorry, you laughed. I … I never saw it before. It’s — pretty.”

“You haven’t laughed in a long time, and I guess I was staring ‘cause I forgot how that looked like.”

[Puts head on the other’s shoulder]

“I will never let you go.”

“You’re the best thing to have ever happened to me.”

“You wrote me a song?”

“You’ve got a fever. Of course I’m not going anywhere.”

[Suddenly feels around the bed to search for the other’s hand / body when they’re sleeping]

[Extends a hand when they see the other was searching for it while they’re sleeping]

“I just feel calmer. When I’m with you.”

“You’re not in bed. I came looking for you.”

“What are you doing up? Come to bed.”

“It’s weird. I never thought I could feel like this, but you showed up. Now, it’s like I don’t wanna go on knowing I might lose the feeling.”

“I don’t mind sharing the blankets with you.”

“You’re cold. Come here.”

“You always do that. You always warm me up.”

“Stay.”

“It’s getting crowded. Here, hold my hand.”

[Hugs for a very long time]

[Puts feet on the other’s lap]

“I’m so proud of you, you know that?”

“I love you.”

pretend i'm dead.

dialogue prompts from pretend i’m dead by jen beagin.

sorry. i’ve made you uncomfortable with my creepy honesty.

would you care for a bear claw?

if god gives you lemons, find a new god.

i’m going to miss you. i miss you already.

you’re not even here. where are you right now?

do you live in a commune or something?

i wasn’t born like this, you know.

what’s your least favorite word?

i’ve always felt a weird affinity for monotony and repetition.

i make my living as a thief.

you smell like hope.

let’s embrace our lone wolf status.

all i ask is that you try not to judge me.

i don’t think we’re done with each other yet, do you?

could you come over? just for five minutes? i’m freaking out.

that’s why i took so many notes. i knew you’d want to know exactly what happened.

since when do you care about dying?

stay. i’ll read you a story.

i read your diary.

i fully want to make out with you again.

i’m like, totally lost without you.

i apologize for the tragic ending.

loneliness is a presence you can feel in your body.

i don’t have anyone making deals with the devil for me.

there’s something supernatural about you.

i don't like being pushed around by something i can't see.

i'm sorry. i'm just joking around, it's a defense mechanism.

you are what you talk about.

feelings are just stories. they have a beginning and an end.

don't be so sure my family wants to hear from me.

sometimes i think you make this shit up on the fly.

were you hitting on me last night?

you run like you're being chased by a demon.

you've always been good at pretending like nothing happened.

you're not ready yet. but i'll be here when you are.

it wasn't your fault. you know that, right?

what do you say? can we keep each other's secrets for a while?

which secret do you want me to keep?

hearing about myself in the past is like hearing about some other person.

god, you have a mean bone.

why are you lying?

honest to god, does that excuse ever work?

stop stalling and look at me.

when are you going to stop mocking me?

everyone has some psychic ability. you have to learn how to see first, and then you just read what you see.

do you know what it's like to be in love with someone who hates your guts?

i said i majored in ___, i never said i graduated.

i'm getting you out of here.

i've been thinking about whether or not to tell you something.

you know, there's a support group for people like you.

you and i have met for a reason.

you're either an optimist or a masochist.

just me, myself, and i. we bicker constantly.

i'll be your friend.

it was only a week, but it was the longest year of my life.

you ever own your part in anything. you make everyone else wear your shit.

i don't want a relationship. i want retribution.

Anne doesn’t cross her arms until Ed comes in and she doesn’t move much after except her eyes. She watches Ed as he blows in, giving orders: she watches like an osprey, head tilted, eyes bright and alert. Not a damned thing to suggest anything, least of all that he was in pain. It’s more below the eyes than behind them, but Anne can spot pain like that a nautical mile off. She doesn’t bother looking away from him, not when Hands opens his mouth and not when Ed shuts it for him. She doesn’t do more than scoff when Ed takes a meaningless jab at her. Some nerve.

“It’s a little farther north than I like—but this is the same sea I came up on,” Anne replies cagily, glaring steadily up at him from under the brim of her hat. In the bed that’s easily accomplished; her posture’s been poor since her mam died, meaning she takes no issue with slumping down until she looks much shorter than she is, like a snake coiled and waiting to bite back. “I need no more reason t’be here than ye do.

“My turn, what the fuck do you mean, Jack’s dead?” He’d been in port recently. He’d heard the gossip, the rumor before it was fact. He’d met up with some old acquaintance and fucked off to somewhere and…truthfully, it felt like it had all just happened yesterday. (Probably because she had only just learned of it last night, just before stowing aboard.) And now he’s…gone. Stuck in the past tense. Just like that. Just like…the rest. Anne’s arms shift so they cover her belly, top ankle uncrossing to sit flat-footed on the bed instead. Unconsciously shielding what isn’t there.

She might feel bad for the damage inflicted on Ed's leg if not for the nature of the thing. She hadn't gone for an innocent man: she'd gone for a pirate (as one herself, she knows they're never innocent), and one that knew her reputation besides. It was as fair a fight as Anne had ever engaged in, and they'd both be bearing bruises after. Just so happens he's a great fucking metal sign pointing to his weak spot, and that he's missing a different weak spot altogether.

Anne grunts her way into a sitting position and checks her ribs with a quick touch. Nothing broken, just hurts like a bitch from the extra sensitivity. Ed doesn't offer her a hand and she wouldn't have taken one even if he had: theatrics or otherwise, she's decided to make her loss in this fight his problem, until her head stops spinning and she can forge yet another new plan.

--Hands, though (loud, stupid arse that he is), Anne just might need to take arms against if he's going to hover everywhere Ed goes. Ed knows knew (odd sounding, that) Jack: that means there are things she can trust to his eyes and ears that she'd have to kill Hands for overhearing on principle. Hands and his raspy shout could well fuck off into the depths.

Ed goes half-stumping off and no one but her sees it aboard the captured ship. No one but her dares to see it, with an order from Blackbeard himself in place. Then one of the stupid twats reaches down and hooks a hand under her arm.

Whether or not Ed turns back at the sound of the man's cry when Anne's fist flies into his dick isn't something she's prepared to say. He hits the deck with a thud and the wall of men draw back for a moment, uncertain: they'd been prepared for stabbings, not dick-punches. There's a ripple of relief when Anne stands up, nobody steps forward to try fetching her again until one of the great louts tries a new tactic:

"Please."

Anne stares at him for a moment of dead silence: his braids fall over his eyes and he keeps his hands fisted at his side as if in preparation for a fight. He steps to one side and gestures in the direction of the cabin with his head. Anne's eyes narrow but she moves: not towards the cabin, but to grab her things, only to be met by the hulking frame of the tall, half-bald fucker with a wrap of studs around his head, her coat and hat on one arm and her brace of weapons under the other.

Ed runs a tight ship. After a moment more of silent staring--and a half-thought to jumping overboard, but they aren't near enough land for that yet--Anne turns back, ready to shoulder through the wall of men that part for instead. The air sighs as their tension releases and the two men, exchanging bewildered faces behind Anne's back, escort her to the captain's cabin. She's in the room before the second passes her weapons off to another man to take below, though he offers her an apologetic grimace when he sees she saw. And after that, it's Anne alone in the cabin with her hat and coat and a hissing pair of babysitters whispering together about I don't want to stay here / well I can't be here alone with her, she scares me!

Ignoring them, Anne dresses and takes Ed's bed--one starts to argue but the other stops him with a fervent shake of the head and wide eyes--making a point of crossing her legs at the ankles so Ed can be greeted by her muddy bootprints when he goes to bed later. If he didn't want Anne and a smear of petty revenge, he should've killed her or knocked her clean out. She isn't known for being a good loser, after all.

→ Zero fucks about your proposal

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