dream away these bitter times

"and when hope has flown away, in a night or in a day, remember this: when all is done, the dream hast just begun." ( multimuse - under construction ) WRITTEN BY JENNIE

[takethiskiss-blog]

me, using a ouija board: A... L... I... V... E...

friend: alive? ALIVE?? is it saying it's alive????

me: idk i'll keep going

me: S.. T.. A.. Y.. I.. N... A.. L.. I.. V.. E..

friend:

me: shit this is a Bee Gee board

[takethiskiss-blog]

FELIX LEATHERBY TAG DUMP

[takethiskiss-blog]

ANDREW TRAN TAG DUMP

[takethiskiss-blog]

DYLAN WINTERS TAG DUMP

[takethiskiss-blog]

LEXI HANSEN TAG DUMP

[takethiskiss-blog]

CLARA THUSS TAG DUMP

[takethiskiss-blog]

SARA DANNIEL TAG DUMP

[takethiskiss-blog]

OUT OF CHARACTER TAG DUMP

[theirlosthope]

[occasionallymanipulate-blog]

Hunter Parrish & Barbara Palvin manip for ayden-summers

[finnickodairheis]

[spectralbullshit]

                   Shoshanna, in her youth, had considered becoming a teacher. Something like preschool, maybe as high as middle school, but when she looked into all she’d need for it? It no longer had it’s appeal. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Some time in her freshman year of college she’d passed this little hole in the wall of a store front. It was falling apart, for sale and her eyes had lit up with the ideas of a book store. Being her father’s daughter, she’d saved near to every cent she’d made since her first real job in high school and the rent for the store front was cheap because of it’s age and state.

                   She spoke to her parents about what she wanted and got in touch with the realtor. It was hers within a week, renovated within two and open within a month upon getting some stock. In it’s early days, some of the stock was her own and she’d offered a buy-back system for people to sell her their old books.

                   ❝The classics are always worth your time if you ask me — even if it turns out not to be your taste,❞ having pulled the book in question, she handed it to him with a big, signature Shoshanna-smile.

                   ❝— oh, uhm, is there anything else I can help you with? Or just the Jane Eyre?❞

[takethiskiss-blog]

     Matt had fallen in love with literature when he was thirteen. And although his early books were things like A Series of Unfortunate Events and Goosebumps, they were his speedy gateway into the bigger stuff, Great Gatsby, Emma, Catcher in the Rye, Animal House... He'd read most of the big name classics by sixteen, and then he fell into poetry, taking him into the whirlwind romance of his uneventful lifetime. Poetry lead to philosophy, which lead back to literature, which lead back to poetry, and soon reading was all he ever did.       And even though he longed for the far off lands he'd read about, the life experiences that had been written to death, falling in love, running away, travelling, needing something bigger, he never did a single thing to make it happen. He was to preoccupied with reading about it all to do it himself. Not to say he's never loved a person, or that he's never done anything at all, but he's always played it safe. He's never taken risks. And he thinks that's a good part of the reason why he never lived the way he dreamed he would, and why he didn't own a bookstore exactly like this one.

    ❝Oh, I agree, completely.❞ He takes the book from her and weighs it carefully in his hand, studying the cover, fingers smoothing over the spine for a moment, clicking his tongue in response to her question.       ❝Uh, yes, actually, there is. I was gonna try and pick up a slightly older copy of Emma for my niece... I don't know if you have any like early editions, or anything, but uh, it's her favorite book, and she's studying to be a Lit. major right now, so I was gonna give it to her as sort of like a graduation present.❞    

[justanorphan]

sтσяү-тιмε ;

[justanorphan]

         Her eyes roamed around, taking everything in with a smile on her lips. It was easy to tell how much this place meant to him by how well he kept it. She had seen book stores become disorganized because the keepers themselves had stopped caring. She had watched in dismay as owners let kids tear everything apart with disrespect, only paying attention when it seemed like someone was shoplifting. But not Matt, no, Matt was different. He actually cared about his business and that was very admirable.

                                   The world needed more people like him.

       Henry frowned a bit when he declined. Fingers tugged at his mother’s hand, looking up at her with big eyes. One look and Emma knew exactly what he was trying to say. Biting down on the insides of her cheek, Emma let out a small laugh before she shook her head. “Come on, Matt. I insist. It’s no problem, and it seems like Henry really wants you to come, too.”

        And almost as if they were from some kind of cheesy family movie, the two wrapped their arms around one another and looked up at him.

                           ”Pleeeeeeeeeaaaaaase,” they pleaded together with innocent grins on their lips and lashes fluttering. 

[takethiskiss-blog]

      The children tended to treat Matt like an uncle or a grandparent, and thankfully, considering the fact that they liked and respected him (the way children 'respect' adults) they rarely ever ran amok inside the store, but he knew how to handle it if it they did, the secret was to be authoritative but also kind, he'd figured out the balance a while back, back when he was talking about becoming a teacher. It had become apparent to him then that it was an essential skill to have, the skill to control children without making them hate/fear you.                  It was one that, in his experience, Emma had also mastered.      Henry's look had the same effect on him, but he still he felt himself needing to refuse. "Ohhh," he says, reluctance and hesitance saturating his tone. He makes a dismissive gesture with his hands, but then the two are tag-teaming him.      And how can he refuse Emma's batting eyelashes and Henry's innocent childish little grin? The answer is that he simply can't. Even if he tried really hard he probably couldn't.      He sighs. "Alright, alright. You win. Tone down the adorable pleading." he chuckles, and stands up straight. "Just give me a minute to set some stuff up and get my wallet."     As quickly as he can, he tells Mallory that she's in charge, grabs his wallet from the room behind the store and slips it into his pocket before jogging to meet up with the Swan family again. "Okay, so, where are we headed?" 

[theonlyrxason]

"What about you?" Avery asked. "What’s your story? What are you like? Tell her that photography isn’t all that; it’s about capturing the moment, the beauty of the world…" Truth be told, Avery wasn’t too good with stories; written ones that is. But oral ones with pictures to help was what she liked. That’s actually what she loves about photography; how you can tell different stories using a picture. The way people interpret it is amazing as well. Photography to her is what art is to Grayson, writing is to Alex, music to Eli, street fighting is to Cole and what archery and skateboarding are to Carson. It’s their life; their passion. It’s what they love to do.

She smirked, leaning back, impressed with the story. She could tell he made it up on the spot. Avery was after all, an actress and a master liar, so she can tell when someone is lying or improvising quite easily. “Sounds pretty good,” she nodded. “Pretty impressive for someone who made it up just on the spot.”

"Honestly… I don’t know. I can’t read all of their minds, but some of them might be accepting, others… not so much."

[takethiskiss-blog]

Simon relaxes further, comfortable with the notion of talking about himself at length. "Well, I grew up in Elk Grove, with nothing but a single mom, and a community theater." What a great opening line. "My dad left when I was eight, because he fell in love with another woman, but he refused to give my mom or me any closure, and we don't ever talk about him. My mom raised me single-handedly, and probably spoiled me a little bit too, but I honestly don't think that changed anything about me." Yeah, right. You arrogant shit. "Then, I ended up taking guitar lessons when I was twelve, and singing lessons when I was thirteen, and that was when I decided that was what I wanted to do with the rest of my life, you know, music. Performing arts. I auditioned for a show at the community theater I mentioned, when I was like thirteen and I never really left. I kept doing shows there until I turned eighteen, and then I moved out to San Francisco, planted myself on a street corner and started performing covers for the tourists. Which lead me to your agent which lead me to you." he runs his fingers through his hair and nods. "I will next time I see her."  He grinned, his ego visibly boosted by the compliment. There's a slightly arrogant tone in his voice as he speaks again. "I took an improv class for about three years too. It's like a special skill."   "Well, here's hoping, anyway." 

[iinveniesarchive-blog]

(doesn't have a title so i'm going with) pregnancy au

[iinveniesarchive-blog]

               feeling completely defeated, and just a little                spiteful, cam lowered herself to the ground;                supporting herself with the apartment’s door.                she’d been out shopping, trying to find a job                or two, and somehow she managed to lock                herself out of her apartment. an apartment                she would of never needed to get if the girl                didn’t have such religious parents; or if she                wouldn’t have slept with her, recently ex,                boyfriend. but unfortunately she does have                uber religious parents, and she did, unfort—-                unately, sleep with her ex-boyfriend. so now                she’s stuck in a crappy apartment that she                locked herself out of, and she’s pregnant.                campbell lets out an exasperated sigh as                 she leans her head against the door, closing                her eyes and willing for the super to get here                faster.

[takethiskiss-blog]

        tired. that's what he is, he's tired. it's been a long           couple of days, filled with studying and too short            coffee-breaks, but he's finally done, he's finally           finished all his exams for the semester and he           can finally go home and rest for the next few days           without a woe nor worry. he takes his keys out of           his pocket as soon as he gets to his floor,           uninterested in wasting any time before he can           crash on his couch with a book. he's moving at           a slow jog, eager to become reacquainted with           his netflix account, and his bed. but then he sees           her, his neighbor he's only seen in passing           surrounded in grocery bags, rested against her door           looking defeated and broken, and he slows down,            keys hanging loosely from his hands.              "are you okay?" 

[theirlosthope]

Of all strangers you could have suddenly be in your house, Camilla was probably one of the better ones. At least she wont rob you, or kill you, or anything else. She might eat your food. But that’s about it. Maybe use your shower, but she’d ask first! Don’t worry, she’d ask first. slowly, she sits up and takes the tea in her hand, downing a good portion even though it burned her throat. Not too bad. Just enough to be slightly unpleasant and take away the taste of alcohol and vomit which would most like be making an appearance soon. “Thank you.. and, ah, would it be to much trouble to ask for a shirt?” She looks down to see that she doesn’t have one. She can’t even remember what happened to hers, “I’d greatly appreciate it.” Now she’s really debating that bathroom suggestion with her stomach churning the way it is.

[takethiskiss-blog]

It's only when she sits up that he really starts to notice that she's shirtless, breasts peaking out from her perfectly fitting bra, and then he begins to feel vaguely guilty for noticing. He takes a sip of his coffee, eyes focusing on her legs which are a far less erotic body part than breasts. And then she asks for a shirt, and he nods, setting down his coffee, still not making eye contact or looking up. "Oh, yeah. Definitely." And then he walks into his room, grabs one of his smaller t-shirts, with a palm tree on it, and heads back, tossing it to her, finally allowing himself to look at her again. "Do you want a wastebasket?" he asks, noticing how ill she looks, crossing over to grab his coffee cup and take a sip from it,  before grabbing a trashcan from the end of the couch with one hand and handing it to her. 

[selfishsister-archived-blog]

"And what exactly are you starin’ at?"

[takethiskiss-blog]

"You."