almost home
roma★
sheepfilms
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
Claire Keane
noise dept.
occasionally subtle
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
DEAR READER
Origami Around
YOU ARE THE REASON
🪼
todays bird
oozey mess
Xuebing Du
Peter Solarz
JBB: An Artblog!
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
@theartofmadeline
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@hopelass
WELCOME TO #HOPELASS. —— an independent, selective, low activity MULTIMUSE BLOG for muses from tv, film, games, theatre, and the mun’s original works. written by kitty ; she/her, white, 18+, also found at #futuresboy. headcanon heavy. crossover friendly. will not interact if you do not read rules / muses pages. i'm looking forward to writing with you !
ramadan kareem to my muslim mutuals 💖 unfortunately, each year during our holy month, israel relentlessly targets innocent worshippers, just yesterday over 150 of my people were injured while praying at our holy al-aqsa mosque. this senseless violence has persisted for years, yet it is continually swept under the rug. i am asking my mutuals to please listen to the voices of those in palestine, here are: some twitter accounts to follow: x / x / x and this web page called decolonize palestine . in addition, my friends and i will be attempting to donation match those that show a donation to the palestine children’s relief fund. please please understand that talking about palestine YEAR ROUND is what we need, and that when the world paints “conflicts” around religious holidays it is minimizing the daily harassment that the idf imposes on the people of palestine. these links are mere starting points, please keep talking about palestine and resisting year round. the bds movement here provides more information on how to help.
i heard she was the bees knees 😔
e*uphoria finale was ass................
no bc you’re right. Begging sam to just high more writers bc at this point I think he beefed with most of the cast like sure there’s good moments (the scene with the self help commentary with Kat) but oh my godd . Screaming crying rn
ITS SO PAINFUL TO SIT THROUGH like i watched parts of s1 the other day and oh my god it actually feels like a coherent story whereas this is just like. various aesthetic shots all glued together by shock value rather than actual plot. wtf is he doing hes so sketchy
i cant relate to a single person on twitter whos like “cant wait to see maddy and cassie throw down tn” like actually id rather die. i want to watch them kiss
once again so fucking pissed off about cassie’s character assassination this season bc like. the “i’m going to do everything in my power not to fall in love” line had so much weight for her character esp in the season finale and had so much potential for her s2 arc to be her going through the very real and very relatable hell of trying to learn to (fall in) love (with) yourself when you just dont like... i could k*ll s/am l/evinson. all of this for nate
SKOOLBULLY / JIMBO :
‘ everybody’s life sucks, c. but i guess … if i looked into anybody else’s home, i wouldn’t trade my shit for their shit. so tu secret es mi secret. i’ll be the tomb, you’ll be the fancy coffin, and maddy'll be the mystical mummy. ‘ the affliction of the shameless is this: they speak nonsense, and they speak it with conviction. any time a fantastic phrase or idea pops! into his head, he simply has to say it. all the ugly, insecure things that fly around in there tend to die a lonely death, afraid to come out. he makes a zipping motion across his mouth with his free hand, locking her secret behind quirked lips. jimbo imagines her as saturn / imagines her as having the intense gravitational force of a planet with a thousand moons. ( when he lost his balance, he didn’t even fall; he just went into orbit around her, and she caught him and held him there. ) you good? she asks. he thinks he answers, hearing his own words play out in his mind. good? best. fucking phe-nom-en-al. but all that comes out is a crude laugh ––– the ugly sort, hitched and wild and resonating from the throat, the way children laugh before they’re taught to do it with the polite restraint of adults.
he looks at her hand on his and feels serene: a body freshly drowned, content to float in the warmth of her presence and count the stars that glitter at the tips of her fingers. for a second, he loses himself in the mirage he’s conjured up from inside the haze; when he comes back down to earth, he realizes what she’s said. i don’t think you’re a loser. the smile about him becomes something inscrutable. he should say thank you. instead, he grabs her hand and holds it up as if to study it. ‘ what is your deal, howard? ‘ he has a gentle way of speaking, when it suits him. something in his voice becomes reminiscent of smoke, masking the usual stilted words and drawling inflections. ( pay no attention to the man behind the curtain / the red flags painted green. ) he always believes in the importance of the moment, and right now that moment is spelled C-A-S ––– well, he doesn’t know how it’s spelled. but he knows he likes the way it feels. jimbo lowers her hand, letting his fingers slip away from hers and picking at an imaginary loose thread on his shirt. as they talk, he finds himself imitating the pace of her step and tilting his head at the same angle as hers. ‘ you’re a thinker. i can tell, ‘cause you’re the only person i’ve talked to all night who isn’t lame as hell. oh hey, speaking of …‘ they weren’t, actually, ‘speaking of.’ ‘ … you ever seen deal or no deal? you’d look good with a tiny briefcase. ‘
simply put, it doesn’t matter that his words begin to go down a path that she can’t quite follow. this doesn’t mean all jimbo’s talk of mummies and coffins and maddy flies off into the ether, necessarily, but rather that cassie hangs on them solely to hear him speak. most of the guys she knows tend to have a very limited vocabulary. ( fuck, baby, you’re so pretty. / hey, are u still up? / i love it when you do that. / your tits look great tonight, cass. ) jimbo, however, is just as full of shit to talk as he was fifteen minutes ago. though he goes at his own speed, marches to the beat of his own drummer, he does it so freely that she can’t imagine he’ll ever run out of gas. it doesn’t take much to impress cassie howard, but he’s not even trying! when he holds up her hand, she inspects it as if she’s never seen it before, as if she didn’t spend forty - five minutes picking out a shade of nail polish to perfectly compliment the blue sparkling around her eyes. it’s always been easier for cassie to see herself when someone shows her the way. from here, it normally escalates the same ––– fingers dragging up her arm and to her jaw, pulling her head closer. he is not normal, though, and all his bumpy roads and creaking bridges ignite an excitement in her she expects him to continue fanning. and when you think about things the way cassie does, WHAT IS YOUR DEAL, HOWARD? is a pretty fair question. it’s just not one that she’s prepared to answer. it’s not a path she could follow without ending up in a place much darker than this moonlight - bathed street.
❝ my deal . . . ? ❞ she’s similarly gentle, but not like smoke. maybe fragile would be a better word. maybe she’s just a skeleton of glass decorated with glitter and crystal. when he drops her hand, the dream she had of where this was going shatters. A THINKER? she, coincidentally, thinks. yeah, an overthinker ––– save for when she’s put to rest by the taste of straight vodka. if that’s what he means, he’s certainly on par, as there a plenty of thoughts running through her head right now ( 1. the way he touched her hand. / 2. the way he stopped touching her hand. / 3. fuck pizza or wherever the hell they’re headed right now, she wants to kiss him in the middle of the street. ) though he doesn’t specialize in the brand of compliments she’s familiar too, cassie finds herself relaxing when that big brain of hers works fast enough to understand that he just said something nice about her. something very him, but very nice! ❝ uhm . . . maybe once or twice? sometimes my mom and i watch late - night reruns of shows like that . . . ❞ while absolutely plastered and spiraling, yes. it’s actually one of their favorite fucked up mother / daughter bonding activities. despite how sad her life is ( tu secret es mi secret, after all. ) cassie smiles on, the hand previously held by him reaching up to primp at her golden hair. ❝ are you saying i’m like vanna white? ❞ there’s a lingering excitement on her tongue, a remaining ARE YOU SAYING I’M TELEVISION SCREEN BEAUTIFUL? god, she wishes she had a little briefcase right now. to make up for that, however, she strikes her best vanna, gesturing broadly to a passing mailbox. ❝ i’m... wait, shit! i’m trying to think of something she says! ❞
Don’t need a boy when I’ve got you.
do i think c/assie is the type of person to (selfishly) choose a boy/romance over a friendship? 100000000% yes. do i think c/assie is the type of person to choose n/ate j/acobs over m/addy? no. her arc this season would have had plentyyyy of drama if it focused on her losing herself after the fallout of her choice last season w/ her baby and mckay but alas
STARTER FOR . . . / @jockclair !
she’s armed with a bottle of pink whitney and mini - powdered sugar donuts, courtesy of her sister. lexi had agreed to stop for the latter only if cassie stopped pregaming, a pact which took a nosedive so steep the older of the howard sisters is convinced she can taste the music pounding off the walls of the house. her friends have long abandoned her ( or is the other way around? ), leaving her to her own devices, the first of which includes finding a place where she can wash the sticky - sweetness of her gas station snack off her fingers.
cassie walks in on a few different scenes ( a couple making out heavily, some random kid snorting off a washer, the usual ) until she finally finds a bathroom. in her inebriated state, the lock on the door is the least of her worries, her brain focusing instead on if her bottle of whitney will be able to stand upright on the edge of the sink. once situated, cassie soaks her hands in the water for much longer than needed, only half - feeling the prick of the cold against her skin. lo and behold, she ends up splashing herself in shock when the door opens, stumbling back as her wet hands grab at nothing but air. thank god there’s a wall for her to back against— that, and a very concerned looking guy in the doorway. once she realizes exactly why he looks so shocked, cassie attempts to slur out a reply.
❝ — no, i’m not . . . i wasn’t using the bathroom or anything, ❞ gross, she thinks as she looks down at the toiler beside her, what a way to meet someone so hot. ❝ i was leaving, ❞ she attempts to salvage herself, looking to her whitney. ❝ sorry, ❞
SILLA SAID: i’m begging for you to take my hand. / [ ACCEPTING. ] @allrevved
❝ uhm. . . alright, ❞ the words leave his mouth before he even realizes what he’s agreed to. vanveeteren’s head, quite frankly, is still fucking spinning from their collective visit to the eigth circle of hell courtesy of falco. he’s not in his right mind enough to be agreeing to much of anything, but because it’s goddesilla, he says alright almost immediately. in another trick of time, her fingers are deftly twining around his, her apparent strength pulling him across the deep end towards where ledoux is attempting to wrangle strat and raven into what some may call a rather premature celebration.
this is something he’s wanted for. . . forever, right? to dance with her, to have the fucking courage to let those closely - guarded inhibitions of his fall and just enjoy himself. the latter he’s never done without the influence of drugs, but the adrenaline rush of simply being alive after nearly having the soul shocked out of him is rivaling cocaine at the moment. vanveeteren allows goddesilla to have something he’s never offered up to anyone before: control. she takes the lead from the moment the music starts, and he watches her, ravishing the way her body moves along with the fact that her hand always finds a way back to his. the question that he expects to crop up ( WHY ME? ) doesn’t. instead, his focus falls on making sure he doesn’t step on her feet, on making sure he remembers all the words to the song they’re belting.
❝ - get a load of this guy, ❞ he says eventually. they’re on the ground, her leg slung across his, her breath on his neck. strat dances by, completely oblivious to the jeers van is slinging his way, far too in love to think about anything other than raven. when goddesilla laughs at his failure, he understands exactly where strat is coming from.
SOY REBELDE . written by nosta.
look all im gonna say is if s/am lev/enson is just using cassie’s downward spiral for nate’s redemption arc im gonna be PISSED. if cassie doesn’t have her own positive development (that includes getting her comeuppance for what she’s done and actually choosing to learn from her mistakes) im gonna be PISSED!!!!!!!!1
Happy Birthday, Glimmer! | December 1st
BOW SAID: your touch brought forth an incandescent glow. / [ ACCEPTING. ] @amarellis
❝ ugh, are we really gonna go down memory lane right now? ❞ she groans as if truly dismayed, as if the smile fighting its way onto her face doesn’t give her away instantly. glimmer is comprised of a million different wars. from birth, she was touched by battle, and from etheria’s great challenge against the horde sprung a hundred other conflicts that constantly tug at her heartstrings. her feelings for bow, which have never been up for debate before, are gradually turning into this, and glimmer doesn’t know if she can handle that.
its been a highly emotional time, though. she can’t blame him ( bleeding heart and all, ) for wanting to reminisce as she goes through the motions to take her mother’s place. the entire process, watching her tame her hair into a more adult look, makes her miss their shared childhood as well. once her advisors have left and it’s just the two of them in the bright moon war room, glimmer allows him, despite her begrudging, to continue. the story of him discovering that she was a magical being never fails to make her laugh. bow is nothing if not expressive, and the way his eyes blew open as wide as saucers the first time she conjured a sparkle between their outstretched palms is etched into her memory forevermore. knowing that this is something he also remembers with painstaking detail reminds her that she isn’t alone in all this ( no matter how lonely it feels, high and mighty on angella’s throne. )
❝ you kept asking me to make it “rain glitter” on you, if my memory serves me correctly. ❞ the almost - queen teases. his laugh is like a symphony, like a hand that knocks persistently at the door of her heart. to avoid having to answer the call just yet, glimmer teleports briefly above him, sweeping her arm above his head so that a torrent of sparkles falls over his head. she doesn’t notice she’s started laughing as well until her feet touch the ground again. ❝ is that what you wanted me to do this whole time? you could have just asked, bow! ❞
