#she sof

[d3m0n1c-cl0wn3ry]

@itsapmseymour pspspspspspspspspspspspsps

Moon elf holding moon flower in simple pretty dress with shiney lil cuffs and a flowy lil ribbon

took

6 hours

But worth it

[devoraakss]

Pinup of my apprentice Aveana, she loves dressing up for her count ;)

Let's play tumblr roulette n see if this gets flagged also click for better quality >:(

[theultravioletcatastrophe]

Hatsquishe Miku

[pseudolife-archived1]

Like, well, any red-blooded American, Birdie had once had a thing for cheerleaders. They were pretty, and nice, and always peppy. Their uniforms were adorable, and there was just something about them as a collective that was - adult. Mature and feminine, and strong. They weren’t just teenage girls, they were teenager girls on the cusp of adulthood, and it was - It was a sight for her. Something she admired during her very brief stint in high school, one of those things where she didn’t know if she wanted to be one of them, or be with one of them - something that had caused her to shy away in the small town she’d grown up in. 

Now, a little older, a little wiser... Birdie’s not nearly as fascinated with the scene as she had been once. The positivity, she still admires, but everything else seemed to be too much to her. Too much pressure for such young girls to have, too much attention on the wrong things. Now, she finds the whole thing to be a shame, and an awful thing for them to have to go through.

Now, she sees Chrissy Cunningham, all dolled up in her uniform and she thinks Oh no. Expression softening to something tender as she watches the young woman hide among the aisles of books, and takes a breather from all that pressure.

“Do you want to sit in the office for a moment?” She doesn’t ask if she’s okay, just peers out from behind the pile of books she’s been sitting next to, dutifully putting away. A job she’d inherited for the day as a substitute librarian for Hawkins High. “I know it’s not - protocol, but if you need a minute to be alone, no one will bother you there.”

@havvkinsqueen  /  BIRB FOR CHEERLEADER

[frigidum-blog]

( ❣. )

Describe my muse: Hands

               her hands are akin to a porcelain doll. fair and bird-boned, without a blemish, callous or scar. the fingers all but dance as they move like a well-practiced ballerina, and they twirl between each other and lace at the platform of her lap more often than not. shiva’s hands are cold, as well- chilled like the kiss of frost upon glass. but they are NEVER hurtful. her weaponry is not her body, and she does not kill with the strike of a palm. instead they are used to heal and soothe. they blanket the earth in cold and softness, so that it may know rest, peace, and death. for winter is the symbol of an end. 

I DESCRIBE MY MUSE MEME | ACCEPTING | @ascendantly