THE FIRE FINDS A HOME IN ME !!
ind. & priv. MULTIMUSE / canons & ocs / as loved by bree / tc.
CHRISTIAN CAN NOW BE FOUND HERE !!!!
trying on a metaphor
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Jules of Nature

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣

Kaledo Art

No title available
noise dept.
Sade Olutola
Peter Solarz
No title available
will byers stan first human second
tumblr dot com

pixel skylines

izzy's playlists!
Cosimo Galluzzi
macklin celebrini has autism
One Nice Bug Per Day
DEAR READER
occasionally subtle

seen from Germany
seen from Luxembourg

seen from Türkiye
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom

seen from United States
seen from Mexico
seen from United States

seen from Chile
seen from Dominican Republic
seen from United States

seen from United Kingdom

seen from Singapore

seen from Oman
seen from Brazil

seen from Singapore
seen from Kenya
seen from Iraq
@ironicallyatheist
THE FIRE FINDS A HOME IN ME !!
ind. & priv. MULTIMUSE / canons & ocs / as loved by bree / tc.
CHRISTIAN CAN NOW BE FOUND HERE !!!!
those who escape hell however never talk about it and nothing much bothers them after that.
Charles Bukowski (via towards-lightness)
femonade :
no one asked but i love being bisexual
it (2017) but instead of having flashlights in the sewers richie has light up shoes
hey do you take constructive criticism on your posts
no? this post is perfect
The year is 1942, and there is a war.
Not here, and not yet, but it’s the thought that weighs heavily on your minds. It threatens to disrupt the peaceful reprieve you have both managed to seek out from the party. Away from that crowded, smoky dance floor, and out into the gardens, where the evening is cool and fragrant. Everything is muted out here, softer, both sound and sight.
Alone together. One offers a hand, the other takes it, and you begin to dance.
For now, the idea of war is an ocean away. For now, you have the golden streams of light that spill out from the French windows, letting your shadows on the wet cobblestone stretch longer as you sway to a muffled tune.
Neither of you speak. The atmosphere is rich and dense with the delicate swell of instrumentals, the cloying scent of hyacinths, with the weight of words left unsaid. It’s a last dance. It’s a goodbye. But above all, it is a theft. Possibilities, moments in time, the growth of something more, all taken away by forces much larger than either of you.
Your eyes drift closed, and everything fades to the back of your mind except for the person in front of you. Your awareness has narrowed down to a few sensations, cataloguing them in your mind and stashing them away for safe keeping. Hands clasped together, a soft cheek leaning on a wool-clad shoulder, a hushed sigh close to an ear. Hair being brushed back, the sweep of eyelashes over cheekbone, the reassuring warmth of another person.
Chest to chest, heart to heart. You wish that this dance would never end, continue like the constant, never changing cadence of the music. You wish that you could capture this moment in amber, moving neither forwards or backwards, only a gentle sway to a distant song.
But the year is 1942, and there is a war, and soon the music fades to silence.
@wannascream
Alien School Binder (2017)
Vacant places in the late afternoon make me feel funny
You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you. And you feel like you’ve done something terrible, like robbed a liquor store, or swallowed pills, or shoveled yourself a grave in the dirt, and you’re tired. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you didn’t even have a name for.
Richard Siken (via liquidlightandrunningtrees)
imagine that you’ve been stood up by your douche of a boyfriend on date night and the waitress keeps asking if you’re ready to order but you keep asking for more time hoping that he’s just late. people are starting to look at you with those apologetic looks like they know and you start to feel worse and worse about the whole situation but as you decide to just get up and leave, this boy you’ve never seen sits down explaining loudly “sorry i’m so late, babe, traffic is crazy right now.” and he quietly adds, “i’m —–. just go with it, yeah? whoever didn’t bother to show up is a dick.” and so you do go with it because he’s being sweet and trying to save you (and plus he’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen) and as you’re leaving the restaurant after the best non-planned date ever, he asks you out for real this time.
When your RP partner comes online:
You keep bringing this ‘illegal’ thing up as if it means something to me.
Ilona Andrews: Magic Shifts (via slavyanskayaten)
LET’S WRITE A STORY ; BE IN MY BOOK !!
ind. & priv. RENA MORI / stranger things oc . / sb to bbysittr . / as told by bree . / tc .
cons of writing with me: i'm trash
pros of writing with me: i'm YOUR trash
What didn’t kill me gave me an immense amount of trauma
a grey day for a grey state of mind