(( sorry if my replies are vv slow im working in retail holiday hell >.<
Not today Justin
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
art blog(derogatory)
KIROKAZE
Xuebing Du
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
One Nice Bug Per Day
dirt enthusiast
Cosmic Funnies
todays bird
No title available
taylor price

Janaina Medeiros
will byers stan first human second

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Monterey Bay Aquarium
hello vonnie
macklin celebrini has autism

pixel skylines
cherry valley forever
seen from Saudi Arabia
seen from Ireland

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United Kingdom
seen from Germany
seen from Mexico

seen from Germany
seen from United States

seen from Mexico
seen from Mexico

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

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
@lxst-wxnderer
(( sorry if my replies are vv slow im working in retail holiday hell >.<
Luma Grothe
lxst-wxnderer:
Naya silently made her way back into the farmhouse kitchen and began to unload the items from the cellar into their rightful place within the cabinets. She made sure to count each jar and mentally keep tabs on each item that they had, for emergency purposes. If they rationed well enough, they could last a few weeks with the items that were brought up. There were still a handful of jars left in the cellar, but she did not want to take them into account quite yet.
The young woman seemed much too absorbed in her task to take note of Eric was up to, or looking at. She was slightly embarrassed from their encounter earlier to make direct eye contact with him. But she glanced up once to see him peering outside the window so she paused her work and gave him a puzzled look.
“Que se passe-t-il?” She asked softly.
He had no clue what Naya asked him, but a guess. Besides, it wasn’t important now. Only that there was some movement outside her window, and that they both were quiet now to not attract unwanted attention. Thankfully that wasn’t much of a problem, seeing that the two never spoke much, anyway.
Finger pressed to his lips, Eric signalling for her to stay quiet before he took a careful step to the side - and in that moment someone moved as well, presenting the very familiar uniform to Eric. He was quick to move to the side and away from the window, pressing himself against the kitchen counter. One hand automatically moved to his hip - only for him to realize that he had left his gun upstairs.
With wide eyes he cast his gaze up to meet Naya’s. “German soldier,” Eric whispered, gesturing towards the window.
Watching his body language, the French woman could tell that something was very wrong. She kept her soft lips pressed together as he made a sign to keep quiet and noted how he stepped away from the sight of the windows.
Naya moved so that she was closely pressed to him. Feeling him shift, she looked up at Eric and fear struck her body once she heard the soft words leave his lips.
A German soldier?? Out here???
The war was getting much closer than Naya wished it would....
The two of them needed to think of something fast, or both of them could end up in bad positions...
“Hide..? Run..?” The woman asked in soft, broken English, in hopes that he would have a plan.
I am always wanting to write Rated R material threads but I’m never sure of who would be comfortable doing so. Can roleplayers please reblog this post if you are fully comfortable writing mature subjects in your threads? { Blood, gore, murder, alcohol and drug use, hack&slash etc. } I’d like to find out by this post who IS comfortable with these types of roleplays rather than making someone uncomfortable just by asking. Thank you!
The sharp knock on the door startled Naya out of her thoughts and fear shot through her. She quietly grabbed the pistol she had hidden in one of the chest drawers in the main room. Her heart raced loudly in her ears and her trembling hand grasped the gun tightly. She did know how to use it, but the fear of having to use it controlled her body.
Reaching towards the brass door handle, she quickly whipped open the door and raised the gun at the stranger knocking on her door. Her grey eyes widened at the sight of a bloody uniform and a hunched over man.
“Mon Dieu!”
Naya exclaimed as she reached for the man, the pistol slipped into a pouch on her hip. She slipped around to his non injured side and allowed him to prop himself up against her small frame.
The young woman slowly lead him into the main room, and over to the wooden rocking chair in the closest corner.
Rob barely even had enough energy left to flinch at the gun pointed at him and yet he sighed in relief when she put it away. Without a word he put his arm around her, probably putting far more weight on the young woman than she should have but it was difficult enought to stay on his feet at all. With an exhausted and pained grown he sank into the chair and after a moment of trying to come back to his senses finally looked up at her properly.
“Sorry to drop in like this,” he got out, “I usually ring ahea–” His weak attempts at a joke were brought to and end when he moved the slightest and hissed in response to the pain in his side. “Do you have any water?” he asked instead. The pain was bad, sure, but the thirst was almost worse. “Water?” he repeated, gesturing. “D’you speak any English?”
The young woman’s face twisted into a grimace as she watched him struggle in pain. Her hand was pressed to heart in horror. She had not seen much of the war since her home was quite a ways out into the French country side. But she had heard the stories..
Naya nodded her head slightly as he spoke to her. She rushed to the other kitchen and retrieved a pitcher of cool water, a cup and a rag. Setting the pitcher down on the table beside him, she poured him a glass before handing the cup to him. Then, taking the rag, she dampened it slightly and handed it to him to clean himself up when he was ready.
“What happenend? Is ze war not far behind you, sir?”
She asked softly, her broken English laced with her thick French accent. The young lady’s face crumpled with worry as she gazed at the injured soldier before her.
lxst-wxnderer:
It had been awhile since Naya had last felt the embrace of another person. She allowed herself to sink into his arms and feel the warmth of his body. Although he was a stranger to her and spoke a language she could hardly understand, the woman trusted him enough to hold her in that moment. Naya could feel the rumble of his body as he spoke, but his words were like static to her as she got lost in her sadness.
But she could not be sad forever. Pulling away almost unwillingly from his embrace, she looked up at Eric with a tear stained face. Giving him a few nods as she lightly wiped away her remaining tears. Reaching out, she lightly patted his forearm; her way of showing she appreciated his gesture.
“Il faut être fort...”
The young woman mumbled to herself as she turned to finish packing up the last of the goods into her crate. Spinning back around, she gave Eric a bit of a sad smile as she headed back towards the stairs. Naya quickly brought up the first crate, and then returned for two more before deciding that was enough.
She motioned for him to head back up before blowing out the few candles they had used. Naya used the few beams of sunlight that shone through to make the final trek back up the stairs. Reaching the top, she closed up the cellar door and motioned for Eric to help her push back the tub to it’s place over the entryway.
It was a strange feeling to hold her in his arms - but that woman right there had pretty much saved his life. She gave him a place to sleep, fresh clothes to wear, and on top of that, food and milk. The least he could do was to give her some comfort. Eric had no idea what she said, but he got to work and carried the flour upstairs, then helped Naya getting the rest. He pushed the tub as told, then began to unload it and carried the new goods into the kitchen. They could live for weeks from this, he quickly calculated.
It was mostly silence between them, but Eric could live with it. It was a comfortable (and necessary) one, as he was certain they would have talked if they had been able to.
The buttons of his shirt were still open and revealed his toned chest and the tags around his neck; one red, the other green, only telling his family name and not his first. He turned around to Naya when his gaze and attention were instead captured by a sudden movement outside the window.
Naya silently made her way back into the farmhouse kitchen and began to unload the items from the cellar into their rightful place within the cabinets. She made sure to count each jar and mentally keep tabs on each item that they had, for emergency purposes. If they rationed well enough, they could last a few weeks with the items that were brought up. There were still a handful of jars left in the cellar, but she did not want to take them into account quite yet.
The young woman seemed much too absorbed in her task to take note of Eric was up to, or looking at. She was slightly embarrassed from their encounter earlier to make direct eye contact with him. But she glanced up once to see him peering outside the window so she paused her work and gave him a puzzled look.
“Que se passe-t-il?” She asked softly.
Luma Grothe, photographed by Fernando Gomez and styled by Daniel Gonzalez Elizondo for Vogue Arabia November 2019
••lol••
so my mini hiatus turned into..... a very long one ah. and tumblr has changed so much since ive been gone?
buh! i will try to get back into a writing swing within the next few days here. ive missed it :)
•••mini hiatus•••
heyo, ive been really stressed lately and unfortunately my brain is everywhere else so im gonna go on a hiatus from here! im still available on discord if youd like to chat or set up a rp! im oli #2889
Reblog if your muse has lost one or both of their parents.
me: i love roleplaying
me: roleplaying is so fun
me: this is a fun time
me: takes 90 years to reply
Jab Tak Hai Jaan (2012)
nonverbal starters prompts featuring nonverbal scenarios.
guide take them by the hand, arm, or shoulder to guide them.
shelter protect them.
shove push them.
loop drape an arm around their shoulders.
touch a gentle touch like rubbing their back, hugging them, holding their hand.
kiss a kiss on the cheek, knuckles, forehead, in their hair.
palm smack them upside the head.
bed rest gently push them back down when they try getting out of bed.
aid help them with a task.
note pass a note to them.
cry wipe away their tears.
wash wipe something off their forehead, cheek, so on.
bandage patch them up when they get hurt.
heal take care of them when they get sick.
book silently read a story with them.
carry pick them up.
scrap punch them.
cherry find blood on them.
sit help them sit down.
medical wake up in the hospital and find them holding their hand.
steer place a hand under their chin to make them look up.
beat dance with them.
stare stare them down.
off track get lost with them.
no shaking their head in disagreement.
yes nodding their head in agreement.
rush tackle them to the ground.
open hold the door open for them.
For every “⏳” I receive, my muse will openly talk about a bit of their backstory.
send 🛏️ for my muse’s reaction to yours crawling into bed with them ( add reverse for my muse crawling into bed with yours ! )
Luma Grothe photographed by Amanda Fordyce for Mister Zimi, 2018