#meme things: reposts

[brookespages]

what is your primary feeling in longing?

melancholy

In longing, you are melancholy. You feel deeply and quietly, the feeling of yearning constant, like your own personal raincloud over your head that rains cold and collects in your heart, sometimes filling to overflow. The feeling follows you around and you push it away, but its always just a step behind; when it catches up to you, it turns your expression from a bright smile to a brief look down and your lips pulled into a kind of grimace. You bite your lip to break the look and hope no one notices. But secretly you hope someone did. You know this feeling is a creation of your own mind but you just can't shake it, and in some ways, you don't even want to. You know in your head what you desire is doubtful, but in your heart you don't want to give it up. The feeling is close to sadness but it's deeper, more meaningful than that. It pulls at your gut in a way that could bring you close to tears with a mere thought of that which you seek. Be strong my love, your time will come.

tagged by: @flynni​

tagging: you!!!

[maarcelline]

Make Your Muse Into A Parfait

[maarcelline]

( REPOST, DON’T REBLOG. )  READ THE WORD THEN TYPE THE FIRST WORD THAT COMES TO YOUR CHARACTER’S MIND. tagged by: nobody tagging: somebody

ROUGH: voice

HIDE: nothing

FOOLISH: silly

SAD: lost

HATE: vampires

LIGHT: sun

DARK: moon

MOTHER: miss

FATHER: annoying

CHILD: struggle

MARRIAGE: Soon!

LOVE: Dotty

SOFT:  cloth

PET: puppy

DREAM: rock

DIVORCE: disappointing

WATER: wet

LOUD: music

ANNOUNCEMENT: joy

POWER: useful

FIGHT: sometimes

SMACK: dab

WHITE: light

SICK: rad

KISS: love

HUG: happy

HURT: rarely

HAPPY: smile

[brookespages]

MEET THE MUN.

Name, Alias: Emily

Age: 26

Gender: girl

Birthday: November 8

Height: 5′9″

Sexuality: i’m bi or pan it’s hard to say

Occupation: circulation clerk in a library: i’m the chick who checks your books out for you

Do you have any--

siblings: little sister, 9 years younger than me, she just started college ;w;

pets: chihuahua-terrier mix named Mickey Mouse

piercings: two in each earlobe

tattoos: not yet

Favorite--

movies: Disney’s Descendants 2, Shrek 2, The Lion King 2, Legally Blonde

foods: CocaCola, chicken nuggets, spaghetti

bands/artists: Ninja Sex Party, ummm idk i like a lot of soundtracks lately, i have a very eclectic taste in music dude

things to do: write, read, play dumb phone games, color, enter giveaways for books on goodreads

[maarcelline-citta]

❤ 

[brookespages]

A VERY DESCRIPTIVE PROFILE OF YOUR MUSE

NAME: brooke page NICKNAME(S): n/a (please give her a nickname)  ALIAS(ES): n/a

AGE: 16 SPECIES: human (probably anyway)  PRONOUNS: she/her

ORIENTATION: straight  ZODIAC: Aries  MORAL ALIGNMENT: neutral good

ABILITIES / POWERS: n/a

INTERESTS: writing, reading, magic, fairy tales and happy endings  FEARS: being alone, losing people, death GUILTY PLEASURES: eating an entire container of whatever her current favorite treat is

SPOKEN LANGUAGES: english

PROFESSION: student/narrator/none

BODY TYPE: small, slight curves. She’s not quite 5′2″ so she is a smol

COLORS: lilac/lavender, cerulean, cream, violet

DRINKS: juice or lemonade, occasionally sodas but the bubbles make her burp and she doesn’t like that  ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGES: she is too young to drink (but she may have tried beer once with steven at a bonfire and she hated it)

SMOKES: never  DRIVERS LICENSE: can you imagine this girl behind the wheel of a car because i can’t  EVER BEEN ARRESTED: never (given the company she tends to keep, though, give her time)

[brookespages]

SEASONAL  AESTHETICS  .

bold  what  applies  to  your  muse     /     repost,  don’t  reblog  !

𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑.      a chill right down to the bones.    tobogganing.   teeth chattering.   sleeping all day.  sitting by the fireplace.   spending time with family.   layered clothing.    seeing another’s breath.   loving the cold.    a state of inactivity.   cold hands.   blistering winds shaking the closed windows.   a bookcase full of brand new books and all of the time in the world to read them.   cable knit socks.    a bitter remark. a log cabin in the middle of nowhere.    hating the cold.  full-length windows to peer out of.   pale skin.    deep conversations. watching the snow fall.  sharp edges.   hot cocoa. smelling every candle in the store.   a wild snow storm. melancholy.   lighting candles around the bathtub.    snow globes.   expressing yourself but never finding quite the right words. the softest of blankets. liking, but not loving something or someone.

𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆.     the smell after it rains. being in control of yourself.  a soft breeze blowing your hair. lightning when it strikes.    cherry blossoms.   bright mornings.   the first sign of hope.   the relief of finding something you lost.    paris in the spring.   birds chirping. the art of growing. a kiss on the cheek.   the clap of thunder.   a tornado in the valley.   smiling at a stranger. planning.  saccharine pinks. making promises.  trying something new.  hugs when you need them most. a bee sting.   sitting on the steps of the met.   coming inside drenched from the thunderstorm.   picnics on a red checkered blanket in the new sun. that feeling you get when you put on a good dress.   a long hike.   rushing when you can take your time.   going to the gym at ungodly hours.   excitement for what’s coming.   becoming yourself.    rain boots.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑.    lanterns lit around a campfire.   seeing the sunrise like its the first time again and again. melting ice cream.   the warmth of sun rays upon skin.  fireworks. the feeling of never wanting something to end.   beach days.   the lone blow up floaty left in the pool, drifting with the warm nights breeze and nothing else.    music blasting at 3am, loud and proud. palm trees on sunset boulevard. longer days and shorter nights. wanderlust. nights spent staring at the stars.    sand castles.   road trips.   blood orange sunsets. leaving the laundry to hang outside.   flowers in bloom.   sneaking out of your room late at night. pure contentment.   barefoot in the sand.   the street lights coming on.   the sound of the ocean in a seashell. freshly squeezed lemonade.   loose clothing. a cannonball into the pool.    sunflowers.  the hazy pink before dusk.   relaxation.

𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋.   the leaves changing colors.   a heavy backpack. the smell of old books.  eating until you’re stuffed.   deep, dark woods. the silence in loudness.   abandoned houses.  ripped jeans.   crunching leaves beneath feet.   feeling like you’ve been somewhere before. sitting at a bay window.   having endless amount of homework.    charcoal drawings.   screaming into a pillow as loud as you can. pumpkin patches. creaky floorboards.   accepting that some things do have to change.   museums.   small talk.  being ignored.    procrastinating.  a door slamming shut.   going to bed early.   baking pies.   the fear of walking alone in the dark.   feeling completely and terribly lost.   a twig snapping.   crisp, cool days. belly laughter. converse.   foggy mornings at the shoreline.   writing a daily entry in a journal.   a lonely day.

[brookespages]

dream motif

car trip.

“ oh, to be driving on the fast lane — have you done it before? ah, i'm just kidding; of course, you have. you're on one right now. but, sweetie, i cannot see, so you'll have to help me; say, are you the one driving right now? or is someone else driving for you? how's the trip? i heard it's crowded right now, but you don't seem to be going slow. are you even on the road, actually? i don't see you on the map, the little red dot. i must have lost you from my sight, but surely you know what you're doing, right? say, do you know how to drive..?”