IT FEELS LIKE YESTERDAY WAS A YEAR AGO.

𝗶𝘁'𝘀 𝗮 𝗯𝗲𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗶𝗳𝘂𝗹 𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝘁𝗼 𝘄𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘂𝗽 𝗲𝗺𝗺𝗮 𝗸𝗲𝗹𝗹𝘆, ᵇʸ ʲᵘˡⁱᵉ

[kasprzaks-arc]

final,  fatal  flaw:     #kasprzaks  ,     independent eddie kasprzak ,   written by ciara .

[methoxydimethyltryptamine-deact]

Girl’s night out (of body experience)

[hiddlxs-deactivated20210907]

is she,,, you know,,?

[wakemmy]

betelguide​:

he blinks at the nothingness. inhales with a question— stops. puts a hand up. starts again, stops. shakes his head a little and asks the question.

“ so, i guess the bathroom’s actually where you summon all your demons, then, right? or did ya just feel like mixin’ it up when you summoned me? y’know, i’m part ghost on my father’s side. ”

‘promise you won’t get mad, but...’ it’s actually one of the first times she’s getting a proper look at this room. usually, she’d enter in the depth of night, a cliche that she followed - candlelight and deafening silence to speak to a spirit. now it’s illuminated by actual sunlight, and she’s uncomfortable - wonders if those spirits even enjoy the dark and the silence? maybe she should ask them to visit during the daytime? she shuts the door, doesn’t want to look at the room anymore. instead looks at him. ‘your summoning was actually incidental. no regrets,  i got a question for ya. would you tell me - would you rather be summoned in the day or the night? i don’t know, i think i’m doing things wrong.’

[wakemmy]

remnantt​:

cloud scrunches up his nose at the mentions of star signs - something he’d never believe in but is willing to give her the time. he turns to face her, reaching for the drink without a second thought  “ i don’t believe in any of that stuff. why? . ”  

she easily lets the milkshake go and mimics an overly exaggerated gag at the mere thought of someone enjoying that abomination of a beverage. ‘no way, that’s so cool. i wish i could free myself of the shackles of astrology, maybe it’s because i’m a capricorn - like, earth signs, and all of that, i feel connected to it more than i should, because i’m closer to the earth core, or whatever, erm.’ she takes a long breath. almost reaches back for the milkshake just to have something to do with her hands. ‘yeah. but, i mean...’ she sits back, shrugs, hoping she looks as nonchalant as they come. ‘i don’t really believe in any of that either.’

[wakemmy]

kasprzaks​:

                                a voice. he’d heard it loud and clear. and then he kept hearing it … hearing and hearing it.   he looks at her, the source of the intrusion. there’s a lazy kind of worry welling up from his feet right up to his head, threatening to spill onto the electrics and blow a fuse or two when it reaches it as he flips through the stranger danger manual and how it applies when you’re in a very well lit and public place. well, that’s a lot of information to run through. yes, especially when you pair it with the amount of information pouring out of this girl and the speed of which it’s happening. he looks around the aisle, then back at her. mark the day that eddie kasprzak has met his motormouth match. he blinks.  brain malfunction!  error, error.  he’s not quite sure what to do. he clutches the separate packets of chips in either hand that he was, before this error happened, scanning the backs of to decide which had the more favourable nutrition information despite them both being, well, potato chips. they crinkle in his palms.   ‘ … why did you say that? ’

why did she say that? she looks from the chips in his hands to the chips in her hands and a smile creeps onto her face, one that she hopes isn’t looking too evil and twisted. it slowly grows and grows, out of her control, and this isn’t what she expected of the grocery store visit, but if she’s going to taunt somebody, this might just be her next victim.

‘i dunno. i HATE salt and vinegar.’ emmy gives another pointed look at the chips in his arms, raises her eyebrows, looks away. sucks on her lip, chucks a bag of classic salted into her basket. steps away from the shelf, and instead makes her way towards the boy. she looks closer to examine his apparent chip selection. 'so sharp. and tangy. like eating copper coins, except sharpened into sharp little points. what, do you not mind getting bitten back by the food you’re eating?’

[darktapestry]

                         i̸v̵a̴n̴ ̵a̴n̵d̶ ̵s̸a̶v̴i̴n̷a̷ ̷.̵.̶.̶.̶.̶.̷.̵ ̶m̶o̴r̸g̸u̸e̵.̵.̸.̴.̶ ̶ ̵t̸h̷e̸o̶l̵o̵g̶y̸.̵.̸.̴.̶ ̶l̵i̷f̷e̸ ̸a̵n̶d̵ ̸d̶e̷a̴t̶h̸              p̶͓̕l̸̬͆a̵̺̍ǧ̸̟ú̵̧è̵͚.̷̹͌.̶̟͝.̵͙̄.̸͔͠ ̵̟̚r̴̢̆ë̸̼́m̴̰̽a̴͓͋r̶̻̂r̷̦̈y̴̺̔.̶̯̒.̶̨͑.̶͈̀.̷̦͒ ̴̫̀c̶̲̒u̸͙̓l̶͖̓;̴͉̆t̵͉͂ ̷͔̊l̸͔͑ê̵̲a̷̯͝d̵͖̐e̶͍̊r̸̟̀.̶̙̅.̵̘̋.̶͙̇.̵̰͐ ̵̼̈ṛ̵̌i̴̝͝t̶͕̔ǔ̴͖a̶̧͒l̶̦̇.̵͚̆.̸̦̾.̷̢̓.̵̮͊.̶̙̃ ̶̺̍f̸͇̓a̶͍͐k̷̗̈́e̷̡͝d̶͔̉ ̶̦̾s̴͕̿u̸̬̍i̵͇͊c̷͔̋i̸̤͐d̷̪̎ė̴̬

                                                        P̸̨̘̙̝̻̟͋̐͘O̷̘͉͒̒̈́͌̆R̷̨͙̥͚͔̜̎̏T̷́͛̾ͅÄ̴̢̧̫͗͂L̴̯͉͇͌̒͐͊͋̏͜ ̴̲̙̠̱͛Ố̵̧̙͍̭͖̇̓̈́͜͠P̵̧̥̮͚͇̮̭̄͑͝E̷̫̒̈́̍̈̅N̵͈̉̉̐̀̈͒̕E̸̠̐͝͠D̵̘͎͔̽.̷͓̀̀́̎̎ ̸̡̖̰̙̻͇͑̇͜  

             vessel   history   irrelevant.     your   mind   belongs   to   it.                    independent original  character  written  by  maz.  ( promo credit ).

[wakemmy]

‘once i heard someone say that liking salt and vinegar chips is like stockholm syndrome. you know? they’re torturous to you, literally hell on the tongue, but you can’t help but stay, and keep eating em’.’ she eyes the chip aisle. none of them are salt and vinegar, so she’s not even sure where the thought came from. ‘actually, now that i think about it, maybe i’m the one who said that. what do you think? salt and vinegar? yay or nay?’ 

- ( @kasprzaks​ )

[wakemmy]

she’s deep in thought for a long time - a time some could use wisely. but to do that, the first step would have to be... to not be emmy. she nods to herself after a while, a slow nod that could mean that she’s come up with a profound thought...

‘do you believe in star signs? also, do you want some of this milkshake? i kind of hate it.’ 

- ( @remnantt​ )

[wakemmy]

the room she leads them into is nothing. truly, nothing - completely empty. now, it wouldn’t be impressive at all - not if emmy didn’t just proudly proclaim: ‘so, this is actually where i summon all my ghosts.’

- ( @betelguide​ )

[wakemmy]

her eyes are shut, but the sun burns so bright that she’s starting to see shapes. when she opens them, she immediately regrets it. she squints. fixes her sunglasses. huffs in annoyance.

'how do people do this?’ she turns to the side, ready to interrupt the stranger. again squints against the sun. the lounger isn’t even comfortable. everything is sticky and sandy and too warm to touch and she’s had enough.  ‘i can’t do beaches. what am i supposed to do? just sit here? with achy eyes? just sit and think about my achy eyes...?’

- ( @acescaped​ )

[wakemmy]

starter call ! like for a starter <3

[midsommars-deactivated20201109]

Diana Silvers in Ma (2019)

[wakemmy]

HACKED xD - @vilnelle 

[75yearstogo]

[wakemmy]

vilnelle‌:

                                yes, a lot more talking about coffee than she had hoped.   ‘ …bathroom? ’   first claimed coffee finder, and now have you heard of bathrooms? villanelle gives one final deserving look to the rest of the coffee shop, but the opportune candidates for another conversation remains dire. she hesitates, then looks back at the girl, then down to the sheet she’s pulled out. she squints at it.   ‘ oh, ’   she says. no tell whether she’s impressed or disappointed.  her voice is monotone, really.  she doesn’t really know what much else to do.  she opts to nod, it’s an awkward silent nod, and then she hesitantly points a finger to the paper.   ‘ bathroom, yes.’   another few moments pass.   ‘ you are interior designer? ’   she squints at the paper some more, spots something and point a little more directly.   ‘ yes, i see sink. ’   she nods again another few times, pulls her hand back and darts her eyes back and forth, uncomfortable. how were adults supposed to react when a child showed them a macaroni painting? she racks her brain, nothing. no comparative. she looks back at the drawing and then back to its creator.   ‘ are… you not still designer? ’

               ‘that... yes, sink,’ she stares at the drawing, where the sink should be, but isn’t. she knew she forgot something. ‘that’s... a sink, for sure.’ she stares at the paper for so long that everything turns into a blur, even almost starts looking like one giant sink, so she turns it around, face down on the table. gives the stranger a tight-lipped smile. she wants a smile back, so she continues: ‘i don’t design anymore. i only did it for a while. it’s not really my thing. but, the thing is, i think, generally, as humans, we deserve better.’ she motions around at the sickly-colored walls of the coffee shop (which should be enough to drive anyone to believe they deserve better), and then down at her empty cup. ‘just picture this; you’re me, and you just had two of these, and you're about to pee your pants. now, you’re lookin’ over there - there’s two doors.’ she points over her shoulder, where the barista looks bored, mixing together weirdly textured liquids. indeed, behind him are two doors, both shut and unmarked. emmy looks back to the stranger. ‘now, tell me. which is the bathroom?’

[wakemmy]

vilnelle‌:

                                ‘ oh. ’   eyes remain dead set on the girl until they… aren’t. they get confused and flutter and float away instead.  attention turns away from her and to the rest of the room.  perhaps a coffee shop wasn’t the best of places to get recommendations on how to enjoy a place.  this is where the coffee enthusiasts live.  recommendations usually looked more like a cocoa bean instagram page followed by trip advisor lists of the top ten coffee shops you have to go to before you die.  villanelle may just have to die. she’d found herself in this seat when the rain caught her and she was a few blocks too many from the residence of the week. seeking another temporary shelter didn’t seem to matter too much, it didn’t offer too much of a difference, especially with the pink bags of a shopping trip in her hand. they’d be soaked through and thrown out too promptly if that had happened. she hadn’t even tried them on yet. 

                                she tries to take interest in whatever the bored looking barista is doing, but boredom spreads and it doesn’t last long. eyes flutter and float from the barista to the window front. the rain isn’t even pitter pattering, it’s knocking on the glass and trying to get in. it’s damn relentless weather.  she rolls her eyes and they make the long travel back to side eye the coffee enthusiast at the table beside her again. that may very well have been the end of it, but the weather matched the person. restless girl. she taps her foot on the floor over and over, impatient. then,   ‘ what were you were doing? ’   the tapping comes to a stop, she crosses her arms and kicks a foot in the direction of the bag.   ‘ —your bag. ’

                ‘nothing.’ she says, too quick - great, she knew she shouldn’t have said coffee. it clearly didn’t win the stranger over - of course it didn’t, it’s coffee. who cares about coffee? emmy sure doesn’t. she looks all around the coffee shop, lips pulled tight, annoyed as hell. she didn’t think she’d have to acknowledge her artwork ever again. not ideal. ‘this - it was just some dumb stuff. i don’t really draw. but - um, i used to be an interior designer, so.’

she finally looks at the woman opposite, tries to meet her eyes. thinks about the offending piece of paper in her bag, and gives in, straightens up. crosses her arms over her chest, leans across the table, closer to her face - 'it’s actually a design i came up with. by the way, i hate coffee. i mean - the design doesn’t... relate to the coffee. i just wanted to say i don’t care about coffee. like, at all. i literally don’t even drink coffee, so. oh, yeah, the design.’ 

she pulls out the sheet, looks at it again. god, she’d be a lot more confident to show this off if it actually looked how it should have looked. ‘so... you know bathrooms?’