[seaschimed]

#ꜱᴇᴀꜱᴄʜɪᴍᴇᴅ  –  a  dependent  multi-muse  blog  for  forksw  .  dearly  beloved  by  bambi.  home  to: 

ᴡɪɴᴏɴᴀ  '  ᴡɪɴɴɪᴇ  '  ʙᴇʟʟ  –  ᶦⁿᵗʳᵒ. ᴘᴇᴀʀʟ  ʙᴇᴄᴋᴇʀ  –  ᶦⁿᵗʳᵒ. 

[chaneilkular]

ANNA LAMBE as Siaja North of North 1x01 "Top of the World"

[fngsbared]

👤   who:  open to anyone. 📍  where:   by the firepit. ⌛   time:  8:15 pm.

there   was   something   about   the   old   stories   that   made   nicasio   feel settled;   a   sense   of   belonging   that   was   engraved   into   his   bones   like   a   crooning   love   song…   if   he   ignored   the   scent   of   the   vampires   nearby—   he held   his   breath   and   focused   on   the   warmth   of   the   fire,   the   hush   of   waves;   he   could   almost   pretend   he   still   felt   that   way.   almost.   but   almost   wasn’t   that   feeling,   almost   was   a   shadow,   pale   and   aching,   hungry   for   something   that   may   never   come   to   be.   but,   almost   was   more   than   nothing   and   he’d   take   what   he   could   get.

getting   lost   in   the   stories,   it   wasn’t   until   he   heard   someone   settling   beside   him   that   he   returned   to   himself   and   realized   the   marshmallows   he’d   been   roasting   had   turned   to   nearly   complete   char.   “fuck”   he   pulled   it   out,   thought   about   it   for   maybe   five   seconds   before   popping   one   of   them   into   his   mouth   anyways.   “thanks   for   the   warnin'.”   he   spoke   through   his   chews with a half-smile,   “you   want   one?   if   it’s   still   gooey,   it's   good.” he loves marshmallows.

[seaschimed]

“  language.  ”  pearl  chides,  but  there's  hardly  any  bite  to  it.  it's  a  teasing  lilt  more  than  anything,  her  smile  warm,  “  i'll  take  the  marshmallow  as  an  apology.  ”  another  joke  while  she  holds  her  plate  out,  motioning  to  the  graham  cracker  already  on  it.  pearl's  happy  to  see  him,  she  always  is,  but  she's  learned  to  meet  nicasio  where  he's  at,  which  means  not  prying  as  much  as  she  used  to.  still,  she  worries  –  how  can  she  not  ?  there's  too  much  she  understands  about  being  his  age,  the  pressure  he's  had  on  him.  so,  yes,  she  tries  to  lay  off,  but  that  being  said  –  ,  “  where've  you  been,  huh  ?  haven't  seen  you  around,  kid.  ”  as  if  it's  any  secret  that  maybe  she's  been  a  little  more  reclusive  than  normal.  she  can't  help  it  –  there's  a  feeling  in  the  air. 

[prescribes]

♱　　towards the edge of the woods,     10:20pm ♱　　open     for     anyone looking for hannah

when  most  of  the  people  start  taking  off  in  the  dark,  theo  follows  suit.  but  the  truth  is,  he's  not  exactly  sure  what  to  look  for.  footsteps?  a  scrap  of  clothing?  a  strand  of  hair?  it's  hard  to  think  about  how  heartless  he  must  be,  thinking  that  this  is  all  so  ridiculous.  in  a  town  as  small  as  forks,  where  else  would  she  be?  he's  so  sure  that  the  girl  would  turn  up  by  sunrise,  that  he's  resolved  to  wandering  instead  of  searching,  letting  the  flashlight  from  his  phone  guide  his  senseless  path.  he's  about  to  retreat  back  to  the  heart  of  the  event,  maybe  sneak  a  few  more  snacks  before  heading  home,  when  the  snap  of  a  branch  alerts  him  to  someone  else's  presence.  reflexes  are  quick  to  spin  around  and  flash  the  light  right  at  his  company,  and  there's  a  part  of  him,  a  very  small  part,  despite  what  he's  been  thinking  for  the  last  several  minutes,  that  hopes  it  could  be  hannah.  brows  furrow  when  theo  makes  out  that  it  isn't,  lips  curving  downward  in  disappointment.  “  there's  nothing  here,  ”  he  says,  waving  his  light  around  the  area  to  prove  his  claim.  “  i  passed  this  area,  like,  three  times.  ”

[seaschimed]

pearl  is  wise  enough  to  know  when  a  situation  seems  to  be  hopeless,  smart  enough  to  know  when  to  call  it  quits.  she  struggles  to  do  it  now,  but  the  further  into  the  woods  she  presses,  the  thicker  the  trees  get  –  she's  almost  sure  that  if  hannah  thompson  is  anywhere,  it's  not  here.  still,  she  presses  on  ;  maybe  something  will  turn  up  that  she  missed  the  first  ten  times.  boots  crunch  in  the  leaves  as  she  comes  to  face  theo,  “  i  figured.  thought  i  might  find  something  on  the  fourth  try,  “  a  defeated  little  sigh,  “  you  been  out  here  the  whole  time,  honey  ?  it's  not  safe  to  be  out  alone.  "  that's  less  of  a  problem  for  him  than  you'd  think,  pearl. 

[celcstiall]

[ 9:45 P.M. // THE BONFIRE // LA PUSH BEACH ] ──　﹒　open to anyone　﹐　

small context: jin made it to town around 5-7 prior to the bonfire happening, so he doesn't really know anyone except pet owners who have taken their pets to the vet within the last week and met the new vet at the clinic ( him ) - other than that, he's got no real connections in forks, so feel free to go on vibes/assume whatever.

the bonfire's cheerful mood had disappeared, replaced with shouts and panicked energy. jin didn't join the chaos, though. he didn't care to, he simply stood by the fire, a calm spot in the middle of the storm, watching it all unfold. he found the whole display... telling. this was the real nature of things and the slight smirk on his lips was a testament to how content he was to watch the pretense of peace fall apart. he set his untouched cup down with a slow, deliberate motion before turning to the nearest frantic group, his voice steady and clear enough to cut through the noise. "hysteria won't find her," he stated simply. "is there any kind of organized plan, or is everyone just running around in the dark?"

[seaschimed]

“  well  aren't  you  a  peach  ?  ”  pearl's  eyebrows  raise  as  she  steps  up  next  to  him,  watching  the  group  in  front  of  her  with  a  frown  tugging  at  her  lips.  she  knows  as  well  as  he  does  that  their  frantic,  hurried  searching  wouldn't  amount  to  much,  especially  if  they  stayed  localized  on  the  beach  ;  still,  his  tone  makes  her  whole  face  pucker  before  she  can  school  it  back  into  place.  something  about  it,  his  …  aura  –  all  of  it,  was  odd.  familiar  in  a  way  that  made  her  want  to  recoil.  she  shakes  it  off  without  a  further  thought,  “  and  what  are  you  doing  to  help  ?  offering  condescending  comments  from  the  fire  ?  ”  well,  maybe  she's  a  little  on  edge.  she  never  claimed  to  be  fully  sound  up  there.

[teetheds]

he nods, slow and subtle, a quiet concession that brings him the faintest comfort — at least he wasn’t the only one caught in that thought. but even shared understanding doesn’t unmake the hollow bloom in his chest, the sour note clinging to the air, the way concern hangs like a fog around them, thick with unsaid things. he knows he’s letting it seep too deep, like he always does. knows there’s nothing he can do, no lever to pull, no thread to unravel. and yet. still, it burrows. still, it stays. sometimes, he thinks it’d be easier to be like the others. something sturdy. useful. a blade the pack could wield instead of this… soft-wired creature, all open nerve and lingering ache. what is he supposed to do with all this feeling? sit with it? make peace? ridiculous. a work in progress, at best. his eyes remain fixed on the distance, but he can feel her gaze brushing against him like the tide. he pulls in a breath, full and slow. she hits him, and that gets him to look, to soften. the corner of his mouth lifts. "i'm fine." his voice is feather-light, but the sigh that follows tugs heavier. it says what he won’t: i’ll be fine.

his jaw tightens when she speaks again. you can't figure out what happened to that girl. the words land heavy. he wants — desperately — for her to be wrong. wants it with the kind of yearning that coils tight in his gut. her hand finds his. he returns the pressure, a silent anchor, a wordless thanks. "i just hope she's okay. i hope that she really just got picked up or something. and maybe her phone died." his shoulders roll in a shrug, more defeat than indifference. a breath. "i guess we'll find out tomorrow." his brows draw inward, a flicker of thought passing like cloud over sun — he pictures how the redmaw might take this. not well. never well. "yeah, until they say fuck it and do something about it." he knows he’s spiraling, letting the worst-case tether him. he exhales, hard, and shakes the thought loose. "but you're right. we'll figure it out. they've done worse shit to us, i'm sure we'll make it out... alive." that last word drips with theatrical flair, a wry tilt of tone to pull the mood up by the collar. "what d'ya wanna do now? join the herd? get some food?" ever the hunger, bo. always.

[seaschimed]

in  many  ways,  and  at  many  times,  winnie  has  thought  bodhi  must  have  been  made  to  be  her  friend.  since  she  was  a  girl,  she  thought  this  –  cosmically  made  atom  by  atom  to  be  by  her  side  forever  (  this  hurts,  sometimes,  thinking  of  their  youth,  what  they  had,  always  does,  but  she  could  never  tell  him  that  ).  it  often  feels  as  easy  as  riding  a  bike,  loving  him.  it's  only  in  times  like  these  that  winona  remembers  this  love  is  a  choice.  a  choice  to  trust  him  when  he  says  he's  fine  he'll  be  fine,  and  to  nod  like  the  worry  doesn't  make  your  stomach  ache.  a  choice  to  act  much  more  level-headed  because  she  knows  the  world  likes  to  press  down  around  him. 

and  apparently,  a  choice  to  lie,  “  i  think  she  just  wandered  off.  teenager  shit  –  ‘member  when  i  used  to  turn  my  location  off  and  run  to,  like,  fuckin’  packwood  for  the  night  ?  and  then  i'd  come  home  in  the  morning  and  i'd  be  fine.  think  it's  that.  ”  one  can  only  hope,  “  we  need  to  trust  that  they  know  what  we  know.  ”  that  it  couldn't  have  been  anyone  here,  any  wolf  half-awake  would  know  that  ;  winnie  just  isn't  sure  that's  enough  to  quell  a  grudge  so  deep  its  been  forged  in  blood.  trust  is  a  funny  word  when  you  think  about  it  like  that.  “  you  do  a  great  job  of  picking  worst  case  scenario, moss anyone  ever  tell  you  that  ?  ”  her,  many  times  ;  usually  in  a  lighter  context.  “  promise  you'll  chill  the  fuck  out  n'i'll  buy  you  a  shake.  we  can  talk  conspiracy  while  i  get  a  burger.  ”  a  groan.  appetite  activated,  “  shit,  bo,  i  need  a  burger.  i  can't  do  this.  ”  a  final  choice,  to  let  herself  be  loved,  too. 

[seaschimed]

la  push  beach,  10-ish  pm  /  for @fngsbared

winnie  wants  to  fight.  not  unusual,  almost  compulsory  when  she  feels  like  this  –  the  stress  of  the  night  is  eating  her  alive,  chewed  her  up  and  spat  her  back  out  several  times  over  already  (  can  this  be  considered  playing  with  your  food  ?  ).  it's  reminiscent  of  a  tiger  in  a  cage,  or  a  beast  threatening  to  claw  its  way  out  of  her  heart  ;  a  familiar  but  entirely  unwelcome  feeling.  it's  like  she  tries  to  grow,  to  break  out  of  it,  but  then  she  blinks  and  she's  right  back  where  she  started,  worried  and  alone  on  la  push  beach.  she  watches  the  search  parties  fade  into  the  trees,  shadows  blending  with  the  leaves  while  the  lights  illuminate  their  way.  winnie  won't  go  yet,  she  can't  –  there's  only  one  way  to  cover  as  much  forest  as  she'd  like,  and  unfortunately,  no  one's  going  to  let  her  wolf  out  in  the  middle  of  the  goddamn  bonfire.  she  bides  her  time,  flits  her  eyes  around,  and  –  ah,  yes.  perfect.  “  you're  awfully  out  of  the  way.  ”  not  kind,  but  observant.  the  way  she  talks  to  him  when  she's  poking  the  bear ; the  sicker  part  of  her  hopes  his  stress  will  push  him,  too.  “  and  you're  all  lookin'  real  ready  for  a  fight  –  i  don't  think  it'd  be  smart.  personally.  ” 

[seaschimed]

pearl  &  ayla  search  the  woods,  approx.  11  pm. / for @svpine

“  ayla.  ”  pearl  stops,  rooted  to  her  place  ;  for  a  fleeting  moment  she  thinks  she  may  be  able  to  hear  something.  a  shift  in  the  trees,  branches  breaking,  a  sign  of  life  aside  from  their  search  party  of  two.  they'd  both  taken  off  into  the  woods,  letting  the  others  fan  out  around  the  perimeter.  part  of  pearl  thinks  they  might  be  lost,  but  her  trust  for  the  other  helps  her  feel  a  bit  more  at  ease.  eyes  shut  in  a  momentary  sigh,  and  when  she  opens  them  again,  she  seems  almost  desperate,  “  she's  not  here,  we  need  –  i  don't  know.  to  regroup,  maybe.  we  haven't  found  a  thing.  ”  and  she's  quite  worried  that  no  one  else  has,  either.  how  can  a  girl  just  up  and  vanish  into  thin  air  ? 

[1ncebitten]

Open to all || 7:50 PM

it was strange being back in La Push. The bonfire reminding her of all the friends and family Marie once had. Before her parents' divorce, before the splinting factions, before she left. Here they all were--with vamps to boot. She could smell them all around. Everyone was here pretending, she supposed, even her. She didn't want to be here yet here she was at the first get together she could possibly manage. It's just temporary, she thought. I only want to listen to the stories. She nestled into a chair as far as she could from the others and as close to the beach as she could while still in earshot. However, in a place like La Push, you were only alone so long. She nodded at their entrance. "Good to see you. I'm Marie Pettie, if you don't remember."

[seaschimed]

the  stirrings  in  town  have  made  pearl  anti-social  lately,  she's  self  aware  to  know.  the  knowledge  that  something  is  lurking,  or  brewing,  or  …  whatever  in  forks  makes  her  skin  crawl,  urges  her  to  retreat  into  the  perceived  safety  of  her  home.  she'd  been  convinced  to  come  out  tonight,  to  see  everyone  –  it  had  been  too  long,  she  thinks,  since  she'd  been  at  a  town  event.  perhaps  it  was  time  for  the  crazy  lady  to  show  face.  marie's  appearance  doesn't  startle  her,  even  if  it  comes  as  a  surprise  ;  pearl  may  not  have  been  around  forever,  but  she's  seasoned  enough  to  remember  fifteen  years  ago,  when  marie  pettie  high-tailed  it  out  of  forks  and  didn't  look  back.  she  regards  the  other  with  a  warm  smile,  hands  curled  around  a  cup  of  cocoa  (  typical  ),  flavored  vape  nestled  in  her  lap  –  the  picture  of  comfort,  “  ‘course  i  remember  you,  sweetie.  pearl  from  the  bookshop,  if  it  rings  a  bell.  hey.  ”  she  holds  out  a  little  plate,  two  s’mores,  “  eyes  were  bigger  than  my  stomach  earlier,  think  i  can  only  handle  one  more.  you  in  ?  ”  a  boon,  offered  to  take  if  needed. 

[ofgloaming]

who: open where: edge of the treeline, 11:48 pm

They said the girl had only been gone a few hours when the search started. Salem knew better. A few hours was enough. It had been enough for her sister, and that was years ago. The forest pressed in close, the kind of dark that swallowed whole the thin beams of flashlight. Search parties called out the girl’s name in fractured chorus, their voices catching in the fog, scattering like startled birds. Salem kept moving.

She told herself she was here because every extra pair of eyes mattered. Truth was, she couldn’t stand being anywhere else. Sitting at home while another family’s clock ticked down? No. She’d done that once, and it had carved something out of her that never grew back. Her boots sank into the soft earth as she scanned between the trees, not just looking but listening. Every crack of a branch, every shuffle in the underbrush got filed away. Half the people out here were already starting to fade, their calls for the missing girl getting softer, less certain.

Salem’s flashlight caught on a patch of disturbed ground, and she crouched low, fingers brushing damp leaves aside. Probably nothing. Ninety percent of things were probably nothing. But it only took one. She just felt helpless in the fact that she wasn't sure her instincts would be able to tell whether it was something or nothing.

She straightened, exhaling through her teeth, and glanced toward the nearest silhouette moving between the trees. “Anything?” she asked, her voice low, the word more grit than sound. "Great, Let’s add her to the list of people this town just ‘loses’ for no reason.” she muttered, more to herself than to anyone, when she didn't get an immediate response.

[seaschimed]

being  a  pillar  of  calm  has  never  been  winnie's  forte  ;  her  skills  lie  in  dramatic  gasps,  or  off-hand  accusations  flung  in  desperation.  in  most  situations,  she's  used  to  acting  first  and  thinking  later,  but  this  is  …  different.  not  some  trivial  pack  rivalry,  or  enemies  sworn  in  history  and  blood.  this  is  a  young  girl,  probably  cold,  scared,  and  only  hopefully  alive.  winnie  knows  not  to  fly  off  the  handle,  not  now,  but  she  needs  to  make  sure  –  make  sure  that  if  there's  something,  anything  of  hannah  thompson  left,  she  would  find  it.  it's  close,  something  she  can't  put  her  finger  on,  if  she  could  just  reach  …  – 

‘  anything  ?  ’  salem's  voice  startles  her  into  a  jump,  branches  breaking  beneath  her.  jesus  christ  ,  she  was  too  focused  to  hear  her.  a  relieved  sigh  ;  she  supposes  if  anyone  would  be  nice  to  see  out  here  right  now,  it'd  be  salem.  winnie  realizes  she  can't  make  a  quick  getaway,  especially  when  whoever  salem  had  been  talking  to  disappears  into  the  trees  as  quick  as  their  shadow  had  come.  winnie  ignores  it  in  favor  of  stepping  from  her  own  spot,  shaking  her  head,  “  don't  think  anyone's  made  much  progress  at  all.  might  be  worth  it  to  not  be  such  a  downer,  though.  ”  rich  coming  from  her. 

[forslorn]

open to all forks residents. 1:30am local time.

perhaps  paulina  was  naive  to  think  forks  was  some  sort  of  utopia.  she'd  always  heard  that  small  towns  had  their  secrets,  but  nothing  about  this  place  signaled  anything  out  of  the  ordinary  —  at  least,  not  past  what's  already  conspired.  years  of  earth-dwelling  should've  thickened  her  skin,  and  did,  in  some  aspects,  but  this  was  something  pau  couldn't  shake,  not  right  now.  “  she's  probably  so  cold.  ”  she  muttered  to  herself,  eyes  fixed  towards  the  ground,  mindless  babbling  as  shoes  crunch  against  loose  gravel,  resonating  against  the  emptiness  of  the  town  center.  if  only  someone  could  see  the  way  paulina's  features  coarsened  the  moment  her  eyes  met  with  the  other's  obscured  silhouette.  “  i  haven't  done  anything  wrong,  ”  voice  shattering  the  silence,  always  on  self-defense.  “  i'm  just  out  for  a  walk  —  need'a  clear  my  head.  ”

[seaschimed]

unbeknownst  to  paulina,  pearl  is  having  the  same  crisis  of  faith.  she  hadn't  wanted  to  be  correct  –  something  was  off  about  the  town,  she  knew  that,  but  she  was  content  to  chalk  it  up  to  weird  travelers  and  even  weirder  locals,  not  pale  bodies  and  missing  girls.  she  feels  sick,  a  bit,  stomach  churning  like  she'd  just  gotten  off  of  a  boat.  a  walk  to  clear  her  head,  to  get  some  air  (  she  can  hear  manon's  voice  in  her  head  telling  her  that  it's  too  late  for  her  to  be  out  )  ;  a  smoke  break,  something  to  take  the  edge  off.  however  –  hello,  edge,  welcome.  “  why  would  i  think  you  had  done  something  wrong  ?  ”  suspicion  seeps  into  every  word,  brows  knitting  together  while  she  looks  at  the  other  ;  a  symbol  of  the  past  gone  wrong.  it  makes  her  want  to  turn  heel  and  go,  but  her  anxiety  overcomes  her,  “  sounds  like  a  guilty  conscience.  ”

[forslorn]

open to all forks residents. 8:30pm local time.

he'd  opted  for  resignation  —  the  slow  moss,  moving  silently  amongst  the  sea  of  festivities.  it  wasn't  foreign  to  rafa,  making  an  appearance  only  to  remain  stuck  to  the  perimeter.  at  least  he  was  there,  nestled  under  his  windbreaker  as  crisp  wind  kissed  at  his  nose,  shoes  digging  into  the  toughened  sand.  the  night  was  still  early,  so  much  that  the  sun  and  moon  both  showed  up,  too.  it  was  mesmerizing,  he  nearly  missed  the  shuffling  of  sand  —  he  would've,  probably,  had  it  not  been  for  his  unusual  circumstances.  “  you  —  uh,  ”  he  laughs,  rather  sheepishly,  letting  down  his  hood  so  as  to  not  obscure  his  face,  “  no,  you  can  sit  there,  it's  okay.  " a few beats, allowing the silence to swell, until it inevitably pops. " almost a decade here 'n it's  still  weird  to  me  how  late  the  sun  sets  —  it  never  fully  sets,  like,  you  can  always  see  this  glow.  ”

[seaschimed]

“  lucky  for  you,  sweet  rafa,  i  was  going  to,  anyway.  ”  a  characteristic  little  smile  shot  towards  him  as  she  sits,  making  herself  at  home  in  the  sand  next  to  him,  cocooned  in  a  big  blanket.  a  hand  shoots  out  with  a  little  plate  and  a  s'more,  an  offering  of  sorts  –  thanks  for  letting  me  in  your  space,  i'll  be  here  for  a  while.  “  made  it  for  you.  eat  it.  ”  winnie  lets  a  moment  pass  before  continuing,  eyes  turning  to  scan  the  waves.  the  fire  crackles  in  the  background,  comforting,  “  why're  you  all  the  way  out  here,  huh  ?  too  cool  for  us  or  something  ?  ”  she  knocks  him  with  her  shoulder,  teasing  ;  no  accusation  in  her  tone. 

[teetheds]

what.    event one,    the bonfire.    time.    11:45 pm.    location.    off to the side of the commotion, not yet daring to enter the woods. who. winnie / @seaschimed.

something had happened to that girl. and it wasn't just the ache lodged behind his ribs, the way it hollowed him out like a cavity of grief — it was the way his breath caught on the knowledge that his cousins, skulking on the far side of the treaty line, would seize this moment like it was made for them. use it. twist it. bodhi didn’t know what happened. couldn’t know — his gift was made for holding feelings, not tracing their scent through the woods like smoke on wind. but still… something didn’t settle right. there was a wrongness threaded through the quiet, and yet no guilt curled off the people around him. no crack in their facades, no buried horror trembling beneath the surface. only the usual weight, the usual thrum. his arms were crossed over his chest, brows furrowed into a low line of concentration, of doubt, as the femme stepped toward him.

"i don't think it was them." either group — he meant them both. the leeches didn’t reek of it, not this time, no matter how badly he knew the redmaw wished otherwise. "whatever happened (whoever happened) wasn't here. i didn't feel them. i can't..." he faltered, words folding inward. his eyes slipped shut, like he could press his palm into his chest and dig through the tonnage lodged there, like something vital might give way. a small shake of his head. "i can't tell." his voice was quiet, caught on the cusp of failure. he had always believed his gift — his curse, some days — was meant to bridge the space between people. to soothe. to understand. but now it felt like a punishment, this helplessness, this inability to do anything when it mattered most. "cade's gonna use this to come after us again. taunt us." the words fell out like stone — solid, inevitable, without a trace of doubt.

[seaschimed]

“  couldn't  be.  don't  smell  ‘em.  ”  winnie's  eyes  are  scanning  the  tree  line,  straining  to  find  something  (  someone,  in  the  form  of  a  young  girl  she  used  to  see  playing  at  the  park.  no  dice  ).  a  quiet  apprehension,  the  calm  before  hurricane  winnie.  she's  trying  to  be  calm,  if  only  for  the  sake  of  the  others  around  her.  embers  shoot  from  the  dimming  fire  weakly,  a  mirror  of  forks's  own  sapped  energy.  when  winnie  swallows  again  it's  thick,  breaking  her  gaze  away  from  the  trees  to  look  at  him  properly  for  the  first  time  in  what  feels  like  hours. 

all  at  once  brows  furrow  and  her  head  tilts,  arm  reaching  out  to  smack  his  a  little.  “  knock  it  off.  you're  catastrophizing  again.  ”  bodhi  isn't,  she  knows  that.  but  it  doesn't  mean  that  winnie  is  going  to  allow  her  best  friend  to  crumble  under  the  weight  of  it,  “  you  can't  figure  out  what  happened  to  that  girl.  stop  trying  to.  ”  a  sigh,  heavy  and  burdened.  her  hand  finds  his,  fingers  lace  together  in  a  reassuring  squeeze.  when  she  speaks  aagin,  there's  more  conviction,  “  stop.  we'll  figure  it  out.  ”  hopefully. 

[khadijha]

—  𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗵 𝗼𝗳 𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗵  ꗃ  𝖺𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝗅𝖺𝗆𝖻𝖾 .  by clicking on the source link , you'll be redirected to ( 409 ) gifs of anna lambe in north of north , s01 ( 2025 ) ! they were born in 2000 & are of inuk descent , please cast accordingly . all of these gifs are made from scratch . you may edit these , but do not claim as your own . this pack is free & accessible through a page & zip file .

[sweetvelvetdark]

christ is cruel but you’re so crueler

[lolastung]

THE SUMMER I TURNED PRETTY 3.01, “Last Season”

[seaschimed]

[ ... ] 𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙡𝙮, 𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙙 𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙡𝙮 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙣, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙫𝙞𝙤𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙨𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙨𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚. 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚 𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙣?

doc. / pinterest. / playlist. / tasks, talk, whatever other introspective things.