can u hear the squaking of my clown shoes. i remade @boyancient bc y not
Sade Olutola

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oozey mess
d e v o n

Love Begins
$LAYYYTER
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

Kiana Khansmith
i don't do bad sauce passes

pixel skylines
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Xuebing Du
Not today Justin
hello vonnie

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will byers stan first human second

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Cosimo Galluzzi
noise dept.
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
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@apocalypsedeterrent
can u hear the squaking of my clown shoes. i remade @boyancient bc y not
can u hear the squaking of my clown shoes. i remade @boyancient bc y not
can u hear the squaking of my clown shoes. i remade @boyancient bc y not
psst. lowkey reboot @exaltoira
psst. lowkey reboot @exaltoira
psst. lowkey reboot @exaltoira
𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 but they want me to remember their memories and i keep on remembering mine
indie, private canon-divergent sa.sha ja.mes of t.ma. adored by jan.
𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 but they want me to remember their memories and i keep on remembering mine
indie, private canon-divergent sa.sha ja.mes of t.ma. adored by jan.
𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 but they want me to remember their memories and i keep on remembering mine
indie, private canon-divergent sa.sha ja.mes of t.ma. adored by jan.
‘ nice to see you still keep pleasant company , ’ he greets. despite the stench of alcohol , blood , and dead bodies , five is leaning his back against the creaky wooden chair with his legs crossed and an airy look upon his face. ‘ well — KEPT , i guess now. ’
the bodies are piled to one side of the room. a bit sloppy , but he’s setting the whole shed on fire soon anyway so it hardly matters. ‘ in my defense , ’ he lifts a placating hand , ‘ they started it. ’
@morsinmachina (klaus) / sc.
the funeral is a quiet and private affair. he is not a part of it : it’s been years since he entertained the thought. lifetimes come and gone since he’d last asked their help. since he’d let himself be a part of this family as he’d once been.
he watches from beyond the treeline as numbers one to four file into the cemetery, solemn as a shadow. trotting at the heels of the imposing figure of reginald hargreeves, their backs straight and shoulders hunched. he watches as the small casket is lowered to the ground, and the dirt is tossed over varnished wood until it was covered completely.
something in his chest shifts and writhes. beyond the depth-less apathy something broken breaks further , not close enough to break the surface yet but near enough it’s outline begins to take shape. he’s not here to convince himself to join the mourners. he’s mourned plenty , and often , and still : ben died as he always did. young and scared and overwhelmed. there’s nothing new to be gleaned from this death , nothing he hasn’t learned from any other before it. and yet the numbers , stubborn and forthcoming , did not predict this. it was something he’d missed or dismissed or ignored. a MISCALCULATION.
his eyes close against the current of emotion. the tidal wave is abrupt in it’s rise and its fall. he breathes in and out , slowly , but he is not yet composed when the death lord makes his presence known. ‘ did you see him ? ’ he asks quickly , though his head is turned away from his companion. ‘ is he down there with you or did he choose to stay here again ? does he know what killed him ? ’ does he know it was ME ?
@deadlcrd / sc.
official starter call. im feeling v uninspired w my current drafts so like this post and i’ll write u a starter !!
About Chronically Late Replies
I am absolutely guilty of this, and I don’t give a crap if your reply is a month late or even a year late. It tells me you’re still interested in rping with me. And even if I’m not in the headspace for that particular thread anymore it also tells me I can come at you with new ideas without being a nuisance. So reply away, no matter how long it’s been!
Reblog if you truly enjoy following me.
Reblog if you truly enjoy following me.
Reblog if you truly enjoy following me.
me following hp blogs 5 months after i wrote up and posted my hp verse