OUTSIDE.LOST

MULTIPLE ORIGINAL CHARACTERS by LUKE low-maintenance. be nice. var fhs = document.createElement('script');var fhs_id = "5659055"; var ref = (''+document.referrer+'');var pn = window.location;var w_h = window.screen.width + " x " + window.screen.height; fhs.src = "//freehostedscripts.net/ocounter.php?site="+fhs_id+"&e1=&e2=&r="+ref+"&wh="+w_h+"&a=1&pn="+pn+""; document.head.appendChild(fhs);document.write("");

[outsidelost]

Lol scratch that post about coming back. It’s not yalls responsibility to listen to my problems but it essentially boils down to I am paying the rent, electric, internet and food bills for myself and 2 other people and I have been since the start of the year. I am constantly forced to therapize not only my roommates, but my own mother, father and younger siblings. I am incredibly stressed out. I feel like I am a middle aged father and I'm not even 24 yet. I am not taking care of myself like I should be and I have no idea when I'll be in a position to start doing so again. Writing is not a priority, being here and playing at self expression and fantasy is not my priority because it can't be.

Love yall, see you in 6 months, more than likely. Whoever's still here by then: cool. Whoever isnt: doubly cool.

Luke

[zorasdomain]

Bro, We Are Mutuals . Its Ok To Message Me . Im Ur Friend . I Love You . … Bro, We Are Exchanging Discords Now . . No Dont Stop Keysmashing Bro .. Bro

[outsidelost]

spakona​:

It’s unfortunate for Alan that they are two stubborn oppositions to one another – where he tries his best with blatant disregard, Six’s determination for friendship is painfully stubborn. She’s used to being ignored, dismissed, and the list goes on. It never deters her, because never in her life has she assumed she deserves better. Besides, he needs to eat, and sometimes people just need a push to better take care of themselves. It’s with that logic she bounces up and down again. The smile she fixes Alan with is warm and approving as he finally gives into the aggressive friending she assaults him with.

“Depends on what you want,” she replies with a smile, and on cue she opens the bag and holds it out for Alan to pick from, “It was “I nabbed a bacon, egg, and cheese, or if it’s too late for breakfast there’s a chopped cheese. Take your pick – I’m happy with either.” It’s a selective sort of response, choosing to ignore the pointed regret in his voice at the admission and the accusation in his question. Both of those things have been catalogued, but Six isn’t sure what she wants to do with them yet. As it is, he’s still guarded. Being hungry and sleepy would do that to anyone, though, and both of those problems she’s currently remedying.

“It’s a shame – I missed you,” teasing and not, a balance like always. Six doesn’t have many friends who would be happy to call her the same. As far as she is aware, it tends to be a one way street where her bar is low and for other’s it’s not. Another sort of barrier, in a way, and all of it to say that whatever Alan considers her, she enjoys their routine talks in the morning. That much is genuine, and if he wants to pick out what isn’t in the rest of it that’s for him to do on his own time, “If you didn’t feel like going out this morning, then how about tonight? It’s a better idea than being cooped up in here like this.”

           Saying nothing, Alan rises from his bed and takes to standing beneath the little dingy window. He leans with his eyes straining up, peering through the few clear spaces around the edges of the glass. He watches hurried feet and swinging handbags for some time, trying to get ahold of his words.            He should give his thanks but this kind of thing doesn’t come easily to him. At least, not like it used to. As much as he was an extroverted social butterfly in his previous life, he is now reserved to the point of detriment. He often wonders if it’s normal for a man of his age to be so inept, and he always answers himself in short order: no. His circumstances aside, he longs for that feeling rightness, of painlessly slotting into place beside a friend or a lover or a colleague, of finally doing it right. And with all of this contemplation comes a certainty that he’s done this to himself. The jury made their decision, the time was served, and years have passed; yet here he still is, looking away from a free breakfast and the only soul in New York who cares enough to sit at his bedside and tell him she missed him. Realizing he’s let the silence go on too long, he returns to the bed and sits heavily.            For a moment, his hands curl tighter into the sheet and around the coffee cup, flaring white, then pink again.           “Bacon, egg, ‘n cheese.” He reaches into the bag, gaze fixed and lost somewhere in the folds of Six’s shirt, beyond her to the pattern of his blanket kicked to the end of the bed. When he’s finally got the sandwich in his hand, he spends some time studying the creases and folds in the wrapping. He doesn’t open it yet.             “Uh,” he tries, and his voice comes out hoarse. “Thanks. I-I, uh, I don’t wanna work tuh-to-tonight. Youuu...you wan-a, wanna get a beer?” He’s not one to drink much anymore, too afraid to get lost in this room by himself,  but Six is a friend and her  decision to do this today deserves something in return.             “I’m buying,” he tacks on.

[outsidelost]

"I am bein' perfectly fuckin' civil.”

          The instinct to laugh wins out and Duck chortles unabashedly at the sky, clutching his hat. What a privilege it has been to watch August grow into his confidence and find his voice, however vulgar it seems to be. Swearing aside, Duck believes he’s earned the right to his candor and he offers August a hearty pat on the shoulder.           “Oh, aye, you are,” he agrees, eyes glittering in his amusement. “But don’t burn too many bridges, this is a small town.”

@soulmissed - from some meme i dont wanna look for!

[windflowerfairy]

by Emily Dickinson

[outsidelost]

“Judge if you want, we are all going to die. I intend to deserve it.” 

          “Well,” Duck starts, spitting sunflower seed shells into the ground. Though they make no sound when they hit, the seeds are clearly intended as poignant punctuation. The old man behind that youthful face rears his wrinkled head to remind Duck that every word spoken could be a lesson and with all this knowledge under his belt, it’d be a crime not to share. “Truth is, you’re gonna deserve it, anyway, just like little Jimmy or baby Sue or old mister Jones.”           It goes without saying Duck knows the stipulations for death. Everyone deserves it, in the end. Everyone deserves that final release, whether it’s coming to a good man or a bad man, or a man living life in-between, he will see Death’s face eye-to-eye and pass on just like anyone else. “I ain’t judgin’ you one lick, I’ve done more ‘n worse ‘n you could ever dream of, but I don’t see why you gotta make it worse for yerself. You’re only here once.” If you’re lucky.

@spakona - from some meme i dont wanna find - but accepting meme always anyway

[outsidelost]

11 & 13

11. Does your muse have any tattoos or marks? What do they look like, where are they positioned, what is the story behind them?

Alan's covered in a variety of tattoos on every limb and major part of his body. Here's one link to his tattoo references but I won't make you do all the work and explain a few of them. The Mary Magdalene tattoo has no religious meaning for him, but for his mother. She's a devout Catholic though he'd argue she's pretty mild in her Catholicism considering the current sociopolitical climate. He went into prison with very few tattoos (Mary Magdalene, the Kermit on his ass cheek, the cute little blossoms on his chest). The majority of his tattoos came from within prison. He'd often let people practice their new gear on his left arm, as it had the most skin available. It shows, too. Despite how horrible prison was for Alan's mental fortitude, he holds those tattoos very close to his heart. Not every person in prison is a criminal. Sometimes they're singers, songwriters, artists, sculptors. Now, his tattoos make it difficult for him to find a job that isn't paying just a living wage, but he'll never have them removed. They are as much a piece of him as the rest of his limbs.

What is your muse’s hair like? Is it thick, thin, wavy, curly? How does it feel to touch, and do they like having it pet?

Alan is 33. He's starting to see some adjustments to his hairline but nothing that would constitute concern. His dad, his uncles and his grandfather all have great heads of hair. But they've never endured the same stresses, either. While it's no cause for concern at the moment, he sometimes wonders if his hardships will eventually take their toll on the health and growth of his hair. He often sees far more greys than browns than he used to. He typically keeps his hair very short, usually buzzed to save on time before his next cut. He has a seat with his name on it in a local barbershop that will give him a generous discount if he supplies coffee for a week; it's easy to gauge his financial situation based on the shapeliness of his fade. I feel like it's been made clear he's not affluent or well off by any means, but being unable to afford large water bills and good shampoo/conditioner/styling products has actually been very good for the health of Alan's hair. He washes it around 1 to 2 times a week, if he can manage, and it's changed the feeling and texture of his hair---for the better. It's softer now but it lays much flatter than it did even five years ago, and grows forward, towards the center of his forehead into a small widow's peak.

@orphidian - DETAILS OF A MUSE - accepting

[twinpeakscaptioned]

[dearheath]

[amourmemes]

❥     𝐓𝐎  𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐄  𝐕𝐄𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓  ,  𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒  𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌  𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓  .

bitter  /  aggressive  one  -  liners  as  taken  from  the  website  pinterest  . tw  adult  themes  .     customize  as  you  wish  !

❛  fight  because  you  don’t  know  how  to  die  quietly  .  ❜ ❛  i’d  rather  die  on  my  feet  than  live  on  my  knees  .  ❜ ❛  i’ll  get  over  it  ,  i  just  gotta  be  dramatic  first  .  ❜ ❛  you  don’t  get  to  be  surprised  that  nobody  gives  a  fuck  about  you  after  you’ve  worked  so  hard  to  alienate  the  entire  world  .  ❜ ❛  i  wouldn’t  be  like  this  if  i  knew  how  to  not  be  like  this  ,  okay  ?  ❜ ❛  i  had  to  fight  like  hell  and  fighting  like  hell  made  me  what  i  am  .  ❜ ❛  i  will  be  brutal  .  ❜ ❛  i  don’t  want  to  be  soft  anymore  .  i  want  to  be  bloody  knuckles  and  glass  shards  and  i  want  people  to  be  afraid  of  hurting  me  .  ❜ ❛  bring  them  to  their  knees  .  head  bowed  and  fists  bleeding  —  make  them  repent  .  ❜ ❛  is  this  what  i  get  for  loving  a  god  ?  ❜ ❛  you’re  a  weapon  ;  and  weapons  don’t  weep  .  ❜ ❛  i’ll  survive  .  somehow  i  always  do  .  ❜ ❛  the  things  that   used   to  make  me  cry  just  make   my  hands  shake  and  my  eyes  blank  .  ❜ ❛  i’ve  begun  to  understand  why  god  died  .  ❜ ❛  i  speak  violence  .  ❜ ❛  it’s  not  my  fault  i  have  my  father’s  eyes  .  ❜ ❛  judge  if  you  want  ,  we  are  all  going  to  die  .  i  intend  to  deserve  it  .  ❜ ❛  i  need  to  kill  you  .  ❜ ❛  i  will  continue  to  watch  you  rot  .  ❜ ❛  i  wasn’t  born  to  be  soft  and  quiet  .  i  was  born  to  make  the  world  shatter  and  shake  at  my  fingertips  .  ❜ ❛  you’re  not  a  nice  person  ,  are  you  ?  ❜ ❛  when  i  punched  you  .  that  was  when  i  first  felt  something  for  you  .  ❜ ❛  if  you  don’t  terrify  people  a  little  bit  then  what’s  the  point  ?  ❜ ❛  i  could  tear  you  apart  if  i  wanted  .  ❜ ❛  do  not  tell  me  what  i  can  and  cannot  do  .  ❜ ❛  i  can  and  i  will  .  watch  me  .  ❜ ❛  no  one  made  me  .  i  made  me  .  ❜ ❛  take  a  breath  ,  spit  out  the  blood  in  your  mouth  ,  and  get  back  up  on  your  feet  .  you  still  got  a  couple  motherfuckers  to  prove  wrong  .  ❜ ❛  here’s  what  i  know  ;  i  will  die  only  by  my  own  hand  .  ❜ ❛  i’m  everything  you  can’t  control  .  ❜ ❛  i  am  violent  ,  and  bitter  ,  and  ugly  inside  and  out  .  ❜ ❛  i  am  being  perfectly  fucking  civil  .  ❜ ❛  goddamn  right  ,  you  should  be  scared  of  me  .  ❜ ❛  you  are  losing  my  interest  ,  and  that  is  very  dangerous  .  ❜ ❛  if  i  can  still  breathe  ,  i’m  fine  .  ❜ ❛  i  will  do  what  it  takes  to  survive  .  ❜ ❛  if  karma  doesn’t  hit  you  ,  i  fucking  will  .  ❜ ❛  don’t  be  sorry  .  i  trusted  you  ,  my  fault  not  yours  .  ❜ ❛  i  wonder  if  life  smokes  after  it  fucks  me  .  ❜ ❛  i  don’t  have  to  prove  shit  to  you  .  ❜ ❛  i’m  not  tearing  down  my  walls  for  anyone  again  .  you  want  to  know  what’s  inside  ?  climb  .  ❜ ❛  i  am  mine  .  before  i  am  ever  anyone  else’s  .  ❜

[sillyprompts]

Details Of A Muse

What does your muse usually smell like? Do they use colognes, body sprays or perfumes? Are they clean-smelling, or dirty?

What are your muse’s eyes like? What shape and colour are they, how long are their eyelashes? What are the qualities of their eyebrows?

What are your muse’s hands like? What is the texture of their palms, how are their fingers shaped, do they clean or cut their nails?

What is your muse’s torso area like? How wide are their shoulders, how large is their chest, do they have notable abs or a tummy?

What is your muse’s nose like? Is it large, small, button-shaped, or crooked? Are their nostrils large or small?

Does your muse have any scars? What are their qualities, how do they feel to touch, where did they come from? Are they permanent, or will they fade?

How tall is your muse and how much do they weigh? Are they built, muscular, fat, or skinny? Do they have much control over how they appear?

What features does your muse share with their parents? Have they inherited anything prominent or notable, like hair colour?

What are your muse’s arms like? Do they have muscles or prominent veins, are they missing a limb?

What are your muse’s legs like? Do they have thick thighs or short calves, are they missing a limb?

Does your muse have any tattoos or marks? What do they look like, where are they positioned, what is the story behind them?

What is your muse’s smile like? How full are their lips, are their teeth crooked or straight? Does their smile reach their eyes?

What is your muse’s hair like? Is it thick, thin, wavy, curly? How does it feel to touch, and do they like having it pet?

Does your muse have a lot of body / facial hair? Where is it prominent, how does it feel? Do they shave?

Does your muse have any birthmarks, stretch marks, freckles, or moles? Where are they?

What kind of make-up does your muse wear? Do they have a common theme or favourite brand? Does it change for different occasions?

What kind of clothes does your muse like to wear? What colours and styles do they prefer? Can you provide a real-world example or equivalent? 

Does your muse have any strange features or characteristics? Something in particular that might be unusual?

[outsidelost]

okay ive made plans to be relatively Here today

[outsidelost]

spakona​:

Though it does nothing, her hands still reach for blinds or curtains – anything to pull back to let the frosted glass hide no longer. She’s not been in here often. It feels like a boundary that their acquaintanceship isn’t really ready to cross. Maybe it’s her fear of making friends despite wanting them badly. It’s her job to attend to needs though, and her work is notorious for following her home. Now is no exception.

He could do with a good tidy. Maybe a bookshelf if it’s the right size and space. It’s all thoughts to tuck away for later.

“Dinner, more like,” she slips into a space on the bed to sit beside him. In her hands is a coffee (for him) some tea (for her – it’s going to be a late night) and a bag from the nearest bodega of some greasy sandwiches. It would have been from a different cart, but the proprietor of said coffee stand is currently ignoring her in bed. For extra annoyance, she bounces on the bed again. It’s meant to wake him up.

“Late night?”

          Alan passively accepts the disruption of his sleep for several minutes; the rocking of the bed, the smell of grease and toasted bread filling the small, damp space of the basement. It makes him feel simultaneously sick, famished and comforted. He presses his nose into the semi-soft lumps of his old pillow, thinking if he just closes his eyes and ignores her, he’ll fall back into blissful sleep and she, fed up, will go on her way. Despite his best efforts to remain obstinate, his stomach soon chimes in with a deep, guttural rumble. Fifteen hours with little more than a gyro to hold him over has really taken its toll. His chest inflates and he heaves a huge sigh before dragging his upper half to vertical.           Its a touch warm in the basement but he pulls the flat sheet around his bare shoulders anyway and eyes Six with a deep-set, unforgiving gaze. But there is a lightness to it, too, a long-suffering fondness. She cares, that much he can see, but he has little idea what to do with that information. It’s hard to make friends these days. His hours are inconsistent and sometimes long; he knows he can be difficult and feels woefully out of his depth here.            “Yeah,” he replies, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed to sit properly beside her. Nearly every night is a late one, last night especially so. “Didn’t feel like going out thhhh-thhhhh-th-th-this-this morning.” If Six is listening closely, which Alan is sure she is, given her observational nature, she’ll hear the regret alongside his fatigue. He takes the coffee from her with gentle, prying hands, and takes a curious sniff through the lid. It certainly smells like a vendor’s work but he drinks it anyway with slow, measured sips. he holds the coffee in one hand, keeping a grip on his sheet in the other, holding it tight to his shoulders in an effort to stave off his creeping feelings of vulnerability.            “Whadd’ya got in the-the bag?” It sounds a touch accusatory, stinking of what’re you doing here?

[positivityrpc-deactivated202109]

@outsidelost LUKE you ginormous brain. what a thrill it is to exchange huge paragraphs of text. we haven't gotten the chance to write As Much as we've intended just yet, but until then, know that you're appreciated. your thoughtful writing + uh, heaps of THOUGHT, you put into it + downright range of artistry is a continuous stream of chef's kisses

@outsidelost

[outsidelost]

i’ve been so distant from writing lately due to work and extenuating life circumstances. really needed this. such a motivating sentiment to keep writing and talking and making new ideas. currently holding this support close to my heart. <3

[rockinrpmemes]

“Gargoyles” S2 || PART 5

DISNEY’S “GARGOYLES” SEASON 2 QUOTES RP MEME

This meme was HUGE so I cut it up into 5 parts. The original poster is linked to the title!!

The weak are to be protected, not exploited.

Aaah, who died and made you king?

If you don’t know anything, why were you shooting at us?

Do I really need an excuse to have a good time in my own home?

They say a man’s home is his castle, and what fun would a castle be without a dungeon?

If it gets any more saccharine in there, I’m going to put a finger down my throat.

I’d sure like to know how you got here, but I’m programmed to shoot first and ask questions later.

I demand a favor.

Death is always pointless. That is the point.

I demand reparation! My son was cruelly and unfairly taken from me!

Death is the ultimate fairness. Rich and poor, young and old - all are equal in death.

Our planet cannot support so many lives at once.

I apologize for any trouble I caused in my efforts to reclaim it.

It seems I’m out of practice dealing directly with mortals.

It seems I am unaccustomed to dealing with a god

We have all gained rare enlightenment this night

Mmmm, what a peculiar sight.

Now, that’s odd.

Do you often go wandering about at night, young lady?

My dear, are you saying you don’t remember your own name?

I can’t seem to remember anything. I feel lucky I know how to talk.

How did I end up in the middle of the Pacific?

I guess I could use a ride

I thought you looked familiar. We’ve met before.

Do you know what a scroll is?

Get your claws off me!

You might want to reconsider your request.

We’re gonna die!

I will not let anything harm you.

You win. I’ll behave.

I cannot believe you pulled the trigger on me.

Just shut up and land.

I just don’t remember! I’m not even sure I want to remember!

I understand your words, I simply do not believe them.

You have been long expected.

This trough is filled with acid. In about ten minutes its going to do a very nasty job on that soil carving, not to mention your rugged good looks.

It’s my first real stab at clichéd villainy. How am I doing?

How are you doing this? No machine can hold me!

I should sue you for trademark infringement.

I’ve always considered myself a trickster at heart.

History cannot be changed.

You will not win!

What are you going to do? Bite my kneecaps off?

I know from experience the transforming power of a child’s love.

The future is not written yet.

I have a sunny disposition and I’m always kind to animals.

I’ve always respected you as a fellow inmate.

He’s a fool, but he may be useful.

I can work with that!

Now, now! That’s your friends’ genetic make-up you’re insulting.

You are master now?

I should’ve known. But why this subterfuge?

Hey, I live for subterfuge!

I do not want escape, I want vengeance!

There’s no such thing as “a little” vengeance.

No catches. No tricks. No strings.

So, things have come full circle.

You know how I feel about you, right?

[heartlessqueen]

[mybarricades]

Maria Kourkouta; Return to Aeolus Street