i just love how in this day and age, the lord’s year 2018, people can’t just ,,, enjoy things

No title available
wallacepolsom
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
dirt enthusiast
AnasAbdin
tumblr dot com

⁂
One Nice Bug Per Day
almost home

Origami Around

oozey mess
Three Goblin Art
sheepfilms
hello vonnie
occasionally subtle
No title available
Sade Olutola
YOU ARE THE REASON
No title available

No title available
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Germany

seen from China

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States

seen from United States

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

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States

seen from Türkiye
seen from Malaysia
@shotmade
i just love how in this day and age, the lord’s year 2018, people can’t just ,,, enjoy things
bravegroupie replied to your post: i mean i was all into the sha.ne da.wson video but...
dUDE SAME. dreams coming true right there.
I WAS LAUGHING SO HARD I LOVE IT SO MUCH
i mean i was all into the sha.ne da.wson video but david dob,rik reunited miran.da cos.grove and josh pe.ck so that really just ,,, takes the cake for me tbh
❛ TOO LATE — YOU GUYS ARE LOSERS. ❜
ind. private & selective MICHELLE JONES. penned by reed.
me: i'm just gonna abuse you through voice messages now @voicemade: god bless honestly
I’m just gonna go back to my Michelle from Spi.derman Homecoming blog bc I have no real self control
I’m ,,,, making a Cassie Lang/Stature blog so be on the lookout for that girl t b h
MONSTERS ARE REAL, AND GHOSTS ARE TOO. THEY LIVE INSIDE US, AND SOMETIMES, THEY WIN. / independent & private multimuse featuring sadie dunhill, stanley uris, and trisha mcfarland from stephen king novels. loved by charles.
oathmade.
oh good, she’s amused. he didn’t intend the story to bring anything but that, even if it was entirely ridiculous. he juts his head to the side, smirk evident on his face as he just lets her laugh linger. the hustle and bustle of the small bistro takes his focus for a moment. so many stories wrapped up in these four walls. everyone seemed to be content to remain in them; separate, and isolated. but Bill could feel the ties that bound them. oh some ex-lovers here, former teammates there. sprinklings and dashes of nearly everything. it reminds him of his own bonds, lying severed and frayed in Maine.
or so he thought. and he had thought so until he had seen her again. perhaps it wasn’t so deliberate of a separation as he figured. maybe her thread was integral to him. a lifeline, of sorts. maybe there are hidden threads tying him to others he can’t see. such a waste of a good young life, he thinks. the thread between them is vibrant though, as if reignited by the meeting of their eyes, his flame-shaded hair shining like a beacon, and she the same. but oh, he sees that too. her own distractions deep within her mind.
where has it gone ?? deep, back , away ?? he can feel it as well, as if his hand wants to reach out to her – she’s not alone, it wants to say. but he holds it back. it’s too soon, not right, maybe it’s the lingering shadows of the past. they’re not children any more. “ —Augusta ?? ”
he clears his throat with a small, cough. he wasn’t sure how he felt about moving away. both so thankful and terrified in the same breath. he’d hoped, like the boy he’d been that it would fix things. that all of a sudden his parents would WAKE UP and be his parents again. but then his father died, and all was lost. maybe she could see the hurt on his own face too, the way his lips pulled tight to the side, his eyes averting; brows tightly knitting causing shadow to shield him. but he manages to pull of a half-smirk, shrugging his shoulders; still strong. “ it was fine for what it was. I—I’m just glad to not be in Maine anymore, you know ?? ” he wasn’t sure if he wanted her to feel this way, not even selfishly.
there is much to be shared between them. stories written within the very features upon their faces. she can see them there in his. within the sadness in his eyes, the way he looks away from her, the way he furrows his eyebrows. beverly has never been the most observant, especially not among the group of friends they had shared, but she knows well enough. she can read it there. and she knows that they will share these stories someday. she suddenly knows that they will be given the time to do so.
her eyes are kind as she grants him her gaze, her lips upturned into the smallest of smiles, though she hopes it is of comfort. this look is tender. just subtly so. just for him. ❛ yeah, i know what you mean. ❜ there’s a brief nod of her head before blue eyes look down at the table in front of her. derry was diseased. such a thought would not cross her mind --- thoughts had not lingered toward the state of derry much since she had left, but even now, she knows exactly the way it felt to leave. as if a veil had been lifted. ( or had another been dropped down upon her in its place? )
❛ maine’s kind of a --- buzzkill. ❜ of course she has good memories in maine --- childhood friends, getting drunk with her friends in portland, daytrips down to bangor with her mother. but still --- there was always a looming presence of darkness.
but she looks up at him, and her expression is all the brighter, her smile’s grown and her eyes are light. ❛ i think chicago’s going to treat us better though, you know. ❜ there’s a shiny sort of optimism in her tone. some sort of gut feeling’s brought this on. ❛ i just have a feeling things are going to be real good here. i feel like i’ve really got a shot to do something. ❜ there’s that fiery passion with in her. that strength, the resolve. she’s burning bright. ❛ and i’m real glad you’re here too, bill. ❜
bill and beverly advanced on the Werewolf, and behind them, richie cried out hysterically: “shoot It again, beverly! kill It!”
“kill It!” mike screamed.
“that’s right, kill It!” eddie chimed in.
“kill It!” bill cried, his mouth drawn down in a quivering bow. there was a whitish-yellow streak of plaster dust in his hair. “kill It, beverly, don’t let It get away!”
no ammo left, ben thought incoherently, we’re slugged out. what are you talking about, kill It? but he looked at beverly and understood. if his heart had never been hers before that moment, it would have flown to her then. she had pulled the sling back again. her fingers were closed over the cup, hiding its emptiness.
“kill It!” ben screamed, and flopped clumsily over the edge of the tub. his jeans and underwear were soaked against his skin with blood. he had no idea if he was hurt badly or not. following the original hot sizzle there hadn’t been much pain, but there sure was an awful lot of blood.
the Werewolf’s greenish eyes flickered among them, now filled with uncertainty as well as pain. blood poured down the front of Its jacket in sheets.
bill denbrough smiled. it was a gentle, rather lovely smile . . . but it did not touch his eyes. “you shouldn’t have started with my brother,” he said. “send the fucker to hell, beverly.”
the uncertainty left the creature’s eyes—It believed. with lithe smooth grace, It turned and dived into the drain. as It went, It changed. the derry high jacket melted into Its pelt and the color ran out of both. the shape of Its skull elongated, as if It had been made of wax which was now softening and beginning to run. Its shape changed. for one instant ben believed he had nearly seen what shape It really was, and his heart froze inside his chest, leaving him gasping.
The ritual goes something like this in the book: Pennywise and a member of the Losers’ Club extend their tongues, overlap them, bite down, and then trade jokes until one party laughs. It’s weird, thrilling, and very, very hard to visualize, so kudos to the team for making an effort to manifest it.
SURE JAN SURE THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT THE RITUAL OF CHÜD IS, THEY’RE ALL OVER HERE BITING TONGUES AND TELLING JOKES
is this how u make??? memes ????
like this for a starter from my girl !!
beep beep how’s my portrayal ?
“it’s because i’m a girl, isn’t it? that’s really it, isn’t it?”
“beh-beh-beh-beh—”
“you don’t have to talk,” she snapped. “just nod your head or shake it. your head doesn’t stutter, does it? is it because i’m a girl?”
reluctantly, bill nodded his head.
she looked at him for a moment, her lips trembling, and richie thought she would cry. instead, she exploded.
“well, fuck you!” she whirled around to look at the others, and they flinched from her gaze, so hot it was nearly radioactive. “fuck all of you if you think the same thing!” she turned back to bill and began to talk fast, rapping him with words. “this is something more than some diddlyshit kid’s game like tag or guns or hide-and-go-seek, and you know it, bill. we’re supposed to do this. that’s part of it. and you’re not going to cut me out just because i’m a girl. do you understand? you better, or i’m leaving right now. and if i go, i’m gone. for good. you understand?”
she stopped. bill looked at her. he seemed to have regained his calm, but richie felt afraid. he felt that any chance they had of winning, of finding a way to get to the thing that had killed georgie denbrough and the other kids, getting to It and killing It, was now in jeopardy. seven, richie thought. that’s the magic number. there has to be seven of us. that’s the way it’s supposed to be.
“audra’s d-dead.” bill’s voice was mechanical. “i know it.”
“you don’t know any such thing!” beverly said with such fury that bill stirred and looked at her. “all you know for sure is that a lot of other people have died, most of them children.” she walked across to him and stood before him with her hands on her hips. her face and hands were streaked with grime, her hair matted with dirt. richie thought she looked absolutely magnificent. “and you know what did it."
“i nuh-never should have t-t-told her where i was guh-going,” bill said. “why did i do that? why did i—”
her hands pistoned out and seized him by the shirt. amazed, richie watched as she shook him. “no more! you know what we came for! we swore, and we’re going to do it! do you understand me, bill? if she’s dead, she’s dead . . . but It’s not! now, we need you. do you get it? we need you!” she was crying now. “so you stand up for us! you stand up for us like before or none of us are going to get out of here!”
he looked at her for a long time without speaking, and richie found himself thinking, come on, big bill. come on, come on—
50 oddly specific headcanon asks.
Send me a number! (some slightly nsfw) || specify muse if needed
How does your muse feel about seafood?
What is their favorite piece of technology?
When did they lose their virginity?
Was their anything their parents pushed them to do? (e.g. sports, theatre, band)
Describe your muse’s worst nightmare.
What is a deal-breaker when it comes to dating someone?
What was the most embarrassing moment in your muse’s life?
What keeps your muse up at night?
What chronic illnesses does your muse have, if any?
Does your muse get carsick?
Does your muse wear glasses/contacts?
What are some warning signs that your muse is getting depressed?
What is your muse’s favorite candy?
Does your muse have a “victory song” and if so, what is it?
Who do they tend to bicker with the most?
Has your muse ever been hospitalized or institutionalized?
Does your muse pray, whether it be to a god or some other force?
Has your muse ever lived in poverty?
Do they have any distinct voice mannerisms? (e.g. saying ‘like’ or ‘um’ a lot, stutters)
Where are your muse’s ancestors from? Do they keep any of their traditions?
When did your muse learn about sex?
What is your muse most thankful for?
What shoe size is your muse?
Does your muse hate their middle name? \ What is it?
How many hours a day do they spend on the internet/watching TV?
Does your muse have any trophies?
If your muse was given the opportunity to go sky diving, would they?
What is the most common lie your muse tells themselves?
Has your muse ever had a pet? If so, what type?
Who was your muse’s first kiss?
What is your muse’s first memory?
How does your muse feel about crocs?
What are your muse’s biggest pet peeves?
What was your muse’s happiest birthday?
Does your muse cross their legs/ankles when they sit?
What simple task is your muse surprisingly bad at?
Did your muse ever own a Tamagatchi?
What was your muses’s first job?
Does your muse usually go for truth or dare?
Has your muse ever been to a concert?
What is your muse’s favorite holiday?
Does your muse reply to scary chain emails/messages?
Describe the first person your muse remembers losing.
Would your muse ever roleplay?
What is your muse’s Hogwarts house?
What is your muse’s first thought upon waking up?
Name a song your muse can sing every word to.
Who would your muse sacrifice themselves for, if anybody?
How long is your muse’s penis? || What bra size is your muse?
If your muse could rid the world of one thing, what would it be?