❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
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🪼
Andulka
ojovivo
shark vs the universe
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
styofa doing anything
Show & Tell
will byers stan first human second
Stranger Things
dirt enthusiast
todays bird
YOU ARE THE REASON
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Peter Solarz
Love Begins
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
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#extradirty
seen from United States
seen from United Arab Emirates
seen from United States
seen from Singapore
seen from Greece
seen from Singapore
seen from Russia
seen from Guatemala
seen from Tunisia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Bangladesh
seen from France
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
@hatemehatemenot
-{ uHHHH random starter call! like this and you’ll get something that i leave completely up to chance. is it an au? a weird situation? a mundane conversation? who knows! like for a starter that is completely out of our mortal control! }-
-{ ok by some stroke of LUCK i have found a muse page that has literally everything i need. except filtering. but. it’s a really concise page for muse navs and i have a way around the lack of filtering so it’s fine i don’t really care about that ksjfjklsdalkj }-
— good things happen
— love is real
— we will be okay
convivir:
she scoffs, lightly jabbing his side with her elbow. “exhibitionist” lyra replies in a wine scented croon. she looks down at the now almost empty wine bottle and runs her thumb over the label. there’s some kind of… intimacy in sharing a bottle, at least from her point of view. she’s done so with lovers, with friends, even coworkers when shit got rough. a bottle on her own was– a mistake each and every time. especially before the twins. she even began to fear for the worst at certain points. this on the other hand? it felt exactly right.
her gaze floats from the bottle over to erik. a squint, grin stifled by a thoughtful sip.
“perhaps… you got the available sick days?”
exhibitionist. all he can do is wink at her. he is not going to say a damn thing to implicate himself. neither confirm nor deny, just smile and act cute and coy about it. lyra knows him better than most people - maybe even his own siblings. she can figure it out.
he lets his suggestive grin hang for a couple seconds too long, his eyes trailing up her throat as she takes a long sip of the wine they’re sharing. he can’t help but wonder if they’re enabling one another. if this is okay. if they’re truly in control of whatever it is that drives them to do shit like this. in the end, he’s not sure if it matters. he’s okay, she’s okay, they’re okay. they’re safe. they’re okay. it’s fine to cut loose every once in a while, right?
“if i got a note from a doctor, they’ll make the sick days. just outta thin air. amazing how they can just... do that.”
he’s being sarcastic. heavily sarcastic. it’s annoying that he even needs a note. he should be able to take leave whenever he damn well pleases, shouldn’t he? yeah, definitely. he grins at his self-satisfying conclusion that he’s just made up in his own head.
“so, wanna give me strep?”
mothtoflame:
Sidney, Sidney, Sidney…
He might be the most beautiful thing she’s laid eyes on in a while. Beautiful as in attractive - but beautiful in his own right, too. She’s been dying to tell him so, but a certain gap between their lives suggests it’s something better left unsaid.
Anna knows that ‘good’ doesn’t really, necessarily mean good. Sidney is only appeasing her. Telling her what she wants to hear. For now, she doesn’t accuse him of anything - only listens, affirms.
“–Tired, antsy,” she echoes. These are the most honest things he’s said in the past few minutes. Sidney is something of a liar, or at least a fabricator. It leads her to wonder what kind of person had a hand in raising him, that he feels the need to dodge her.
“… To be honest, I’m a little antsy, too,” she admits, with a sheepish smile. Anna glances down at his frames on the kitchen table, then back to Sidney, with his freckled cheeks. His asymmetrical gaze.
“Well… you first. What’s got you wound up?”
What hasn’t got him wound up? Wound so tightly that the slightest bit of torque could cause him to snap completely? What hasn’t completely upended his sanity, his security, his sense of reality lately? He could give her an itemized list a mile long and still not quite sum it up.
His glasses lay abandoned on the table. He doesn’t need them at the moment, doesn’t want to put them back on. The kitchen is spacious and brightly lit by the sunlight that filters in through the partly-drawn curtains. It’s a safe place. No peripheral vision required.
He narrows his eyes just slightly. He smiles, then looks off to the side. Anna vanishes from his view. He’s thinking just a little too hard for what should be a simple question.
“My dad,” he says finally. He sighs. As if it could have been anything else. Anything at all. He wishes he could have something normal to stress over, but with the way his life has gone nothing seems to faze him anymore. Nothing except his family. His fucked up family.
“If I can even call him that anymore.”
“Don’t move, you’re losing blood!” for Cassius plz
Oh shit, oh fuck. He is. He is losing blood. A lot of blood, and with alarming speed. He feels woozy, not quite in the beginning stages of passing out but definitely in the beginning stages of wanting to pass out. Wishing he could lose consciousness so he doesn’t have to watch this play out.
“Oh God, oh God-” Cassius moans, blinking back the tears that gather in the corners of his eyes. He has both hands pressed to the gushing wound as though that’s going to do anything at all. He doesn’t know who this guy is, but he desperately needs him to not leave right now, oh fuck--
“God, I’m going to die, aren’t I? Aren’t I?!”
“How are you feeling?” (anna to sidney :3c surprise!)
Sad lately. A little depressed. Unhappy with his general circumstances during this phase of his life. But he isn’t quite sure he wants to tell her that up front. It’s a little... melancholy, and the last thing he wants is to bring the mood down.
“Good,” he says.
“Tired,” he says after a pause.
He takes his glasses off and wipes them off on his shirt. With his peripheral vision gone, he takes stock of what’s in front of him. Anna. Just Anna. He smiles.
“Maybe a bit antsy,” he finally admits. People rarely ask how he’s feeling, and he’s not about to completely pass up the opportunity to spill at least some of his guts. A small percentage. A teensy, tiny bit. Just a bit.
GENERAL
“Can you walk?”
“How did this happen?”
“What the hell happened?”
“I hit my head.”
“Did you hit your head?”
“Can you hear me?”
“Don’t close your eyes, stay awake!”
“Come on, stay with me!”
“No no no no no!”
“You shot me!”
“I didn’t mean to shoot you!”
“You stabbed me!”
“I didn’t mean to stab you!”
“Take the knife out!”
“Don’t take the knife out!”
“It was an accident!”
“That/this wasn’t an accident!”
“That looks broken.”
“I think my leg/arm is broken.”
“That doesn’t look good.”
“Am I going to die?”
“You’re not going to die!”
“Calm down!”
“Don’t panic!”
“I can’t help you if you don’t let me!”
BLOOD
“Are you bleeding?”
“Don’t move, you’re bleeding.”
“Is that blood?”
“Whose blood is that?”
“That’s a lot of blood.”
“Do you know how to get bloodstains out?”
“Why do you know how to get bloodstains out?”
“Damn, I got blood on my shirt.”
“Don’t move, you’re losing blood!”
“I won’t let you bleed out!”
“You have blood on your face.”
“I swear to god, if you get blood on me…”
“What’s your blood type?”
“Why in the hell would you need to know my blood type?”
WOUNDS
“That cut is nasty.”
“You have a massive gash in your arm/leg!’
“Don’t touch it!”
“Don’t move, you’ll only make it worse!”
“I’ll get some bandages.”
“You’re going to need stitches.”
“That looks infected…”
“Did you get bit by something?”
“There’s no exit wound, the bullet is still in you.”
“There’s an exit wound, the bullet went through you.”
AFTERCARE
“How are you feeling?”
“How does it feel?”
“It’s still not healed, but it’s getting there.”
“Let’s go home.”
“I just want to go home.”
“Let’s get you into the bathtub.”
“We need to change your bandages soon.”
“Get some sleep, okay?”
“You need to eat something, you’ve been through a lot today.”
“I’ll check up on you in a bit.”
“You’re going to be fine. I promise.”
100 Random Character Development Questions
001. When is their birthday? 002. Do they do anything to celebrate their birthday? 003. Does your character like coffee better, or tea? 004. Do they prefer being alone or with others? 005. Are they in good health? 006. What sense do they most rely on? 007. Is your character an optimist or a pessimist? 008. What is their favorite fairy tale? 009. Do they believe in happy endings? 010. Do they believe in love at first sight? 011. How would your character court the person of their dreams? 012. What makes your character embarrassed? 013. Have they ever been bullied or teased? 014. Detail one secret shame your character feels. 015. Are they most likely to fight with their fists or their tongue? 016. What is their choice of weapon? 017. When does your character think that violence is justified or deserved? 018. Your character wakes up to find that war has been declared. What do they do? 019. If they could have a superpower, what would they choose? 020. What are their hobbies? 021. How do they display affection? 022. What is the most beautiful thing they’ve ever seen? 023. What do they consider beautiful in others physically? 024. What do they consider ugly in others physically? 025. What do they consider beautiful in others personality-wise? 026. What do they consider ugly in others personality-wise? 027. What is their idea of perfect happiness? 028. What makes them laugh out loud? 029. What sort of sense of humor does your character have? 030. Do they believe in the afterlife? 031. Are they superstitious about anything? 032. Does your character believe in ghosts? 033. Do they keep their promises? 034. What’s their view of lying? 035. What is the most important rule your character lives by? 036. How honorable is your character? 037. If your character saw someone drop a large sum of money and knew that they could probably take it without anyone noticing, what would they do? 038. What bad habits do they have? 039. What do they think is the worst thing that can be done to a person? 040. What is their obsession? 041. Are they comfortable with technology? 042. What is their greatest achievement? 043. What will they stand up for? 044. What disgusts them? 045. Does your character have any chronic medical conditions? 046. How do they handle getting sick? 047. What was the last medical problem your character had? 048. Do they have any allergies? 049. How does your character feel about growing old? 050. How does your character feel about their own mortality? 051. If they knew they would die tomorrow, what would they do today? 052. What is your character’s worst flaw? 053. What is your character’s greatest strength? 054. Does your character want power or authority of any kind? 055. Is your character an introvert or an extrovert? 056. Has your character ever struck someone in anger? 057. Has your character ever killed anyone? 058. What is your character’s idea of a perfect day? 059. List several phrases your character is fond of uttering. Where did they pick them up? 060. What is your character’s attitude toward education and learning? 061. Does your character prefer adventure or safety and security? 062. What sort of legacy does your character wish to leave behind? 063. How well does your character handle difficult people? 064. In what ways does your character annoy others? 065. Is your character better at leading or following? Which do they prefer? 066. Does your character prefer city life or being out in nature? 067. Does your character believe in fate or destiny? 068. How strong is your character’s sense of responsibility? What kinds of things trigger it? 069. What about your character is heroic? 070. What about your character is cowardly? 071. How kind is your character? 072. In a Dungeons & Dragons game, which class would your character be? (wizard, fighter, bard, priest, ranger, etc.) 073. In a novel, what plot role would your character fill? (hero, anti-hero, sidekick, villain, etc.) 074. What is your character’s favorite game? 075. Is your character ticklish? 076. How do they express anger? 077. How often do they cry? Over what? 078. How emotionally stable is your character? 079. How easy is it for them to read the emotions of others? 080. How easy is it for others to read your character’s emotions? 081. Is your character religious? 082. What are your character’s sleeping preferences? 083. What is the first thing they say and/or do when they wake up? 084. Describe your character in one word. 085. Describe your character in three words. 086. How would your character describe themself in one word? 087. How would your character describe themself in three words? 088. Is your character quiet or loud? 089. How vocally expressive is your character? 090. How bodily expressive is your character? 091. What type of music does your character like? 092. What emotion does your character evoke in others? 093. What is your character’s goal in life? 094. Name three things most would not expect your character to be able to know. 095. Name three things most would not expect your character to be able to do. 096. How do they move and carry themselves? What energy do they project? 097. How well do they adapt to change? 098. Does your character like animals? 099. Do they talk to inanimate objects? 100. Does your character dream? If so, what do they dream about?
mothtoflame:
Paxton’s brows furrow; he had opened his mouth to correct Sidney, but he’s baffled by the latency in his response. It hasn’t taken him very long to notice that Sidney hasn’t been ignoring him, rather there’s a marked delay in his comprehension. He usually gets things after a few seconds, but sometimes it just passes through him. It’s concerning, to say the least.
“… Right,” Paxton sighs again as he replaces his frames, standing from the desk and making a start for Sidney’s bedroom.
“Come on, show me then.”
Sidney doesn’t seem to notice his lapse in situational awareness - or, he just doesn’t care. He beams at his father and follows him out of the study. Just moments after he was told not to run, he takes off down the hall again at top speed. He very nearly trips over himself as he enters his bedroom.
“It’s there-!” Sidney exclaims, pointing at the offending spider that’s taken a shine to the Beach Boys poster pinned to his wall. It scuttles across Brian Wilson’s face. Sid grimaces.
“It looks poisonous.”
-{ i know i wrote two replies for one person then dipped but guys i’m a trainwreck give me time ok lksafjlksad you’ll get replies this week! }-
convivir:
lyra’s title falling from his lips lands a smile on hers. “a note for a well deserved break is one that won’t weigh heavily on my conscience.” after all it wasn’t as if he was asking her for a prescription. lyra had that happen more than she liked, causing her to reevaluate what exactly her ‘type’ was. thankfully, those were worries of days long gone. this was now. she didn’t have to experiment and test the waters, no longer settling for the unknown. there was finally some solidarity. the kids, her job, the incredibly handsome man in front of her.
“we’ll just say you got strep from frenching a library water fountain.” she gently taps the tip of his nose before grabbing the bottle. “they’ll buy it.” she takes a drink and then pauses, “–right?”
the prescription-grabbing tendency was never his scene. it’s his brother’s. his sad degenerate brother who he’s pumped full of narcan more times than he can count. erik, conversely, has managed to avoid his family’s tendency to spiral wildly out of control. his worst vice is occasionally having half a bottle of wine and then immediately going to bed to sleep it off. wild party animal. no wonder someone as fun as lyra chose such a stick in the mud fun-loving wild guy like him. every day is an adventure.
tonight is most definitely one of those rare drinking-a-little-too-much occasions. one of those he-is-being-far-too-cautious-and-is-safe-to-cut-loose nights where he thinks he’s being adventurous.
“hey, how’d you know about that? voyeur.”
he grabs the bottle right back from her, takes a baby sip, then gives it back. petty little-
“strep should get me out of work for... for... more than tomorrow, right?”
convivir:
cj wraps his finger around a dirty blonde curl resting on his forehead, tugging gently while his attention rests 20 feet ahead of him. a young child in overalls has just snuck a twenty from his mother’s pocketbook, she’s distracted, making small talk with another mother. it reminds him why he’ll never father children. all they do is take. all just an endless cycle of wanting and needing and taking. its exhausting.
his gaze flickers over to uriyah, hooded eyes creasing with a smile.
“you wanna get dinner?”
uriyah sees the child, pretends not to. a secret smile softens his expression. that kid’s got potential, a bright future in freelance crime. reminds him of his sister and her sticky fingers. reminds him of himself in the early days, just starting out. he could never have any of his own. it’s too much responsibility and, frankly, he can’t see himself not fucking up and turning his children into tiny, terrible copies of himself.
it’s still cute to see, though. still makes him forget his exasperation for a moment. when he finally looks at cj, he lets out a breath. he can’t get his scowl back. he’s still smiling.
“only if you’re paying.”
-{ i am so behind on things here holy shit }-
if you're a white creator and your brown/black characters are always sassy, reckless, aggressive or cold and your white characters are always soft, demure, shy and introverted you should think about maybe why you did that
@mothtoflame is all that’s standing between Paul and a nervous breakdown.
Paul Leskowitz is lucky. So, so damn lucky. Lucky that he has someone like Belle to see him through the worst of... whatever this is. Ever since he found that damn game, ever since he started those recordings, he’s just felt... off. Strange. Not quite all there.
Memories have resurfaced, come, gone, been buried again only to reemerge at the worst possible moment. It’s a vicious cycle of remember-forget-remember, and through it all he hasn’t had the energy for much else.
Summer means no work, and no work means he has all the more opportunity to sit at home and let himself go. Lock himself in his room. Sit in front of his TV. Play his Playstation until the logo is burned into his retina.
He can’t make sense of it - that damned game. Not without Belle’s help. But even with her help, it doesn’t make much sense to him at all. She’s been around for so long, but she’s not him. Her memory isn’t a replacement for his. She’s another piece to the puzzle, not a solution.
“Heh, yeah. Yeah... thank, uh... thank god.”
Distracted. Detached. Not all there. He badly needs a haircut, but he’ll settle for a thorough brushing. It’s more than he could manage on his own anyway.
His eyes fall on the TV. He takes his glasses off, and it blurs out of focus. Out of sight, out of mind. He shuts his eyes and listens to the creak of the hairbrush as it passes through all the tiny knots Belle missed. It feels familiar in a way that makes his stomach churn, but he doesn’t want to ruin it.
