❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
🪼
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Stranger Things
i don't do bad sauce passes
we're not kids anymore.
roma★
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
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PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
Not today Justin
Jules of Nature
will byers stan first human second
Three Goblin Art
titsay
Peter Solarz
hello vonnie
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
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seen from T1
seen from Germany
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@your-basketcase
The most in-depth 30 day character development meme you'll ever find.
Because I wanted to see something that really got into the nitty gritty details of a character.
I tried to organize it into sections and equalize the amount of writing you’d be doing each day, but obviously that’s going to vary from character to character. Good luck, and may the force be with you.
Read More
Everyone is such a great RPer and I'm a potato
(◕‿◕✿)
SEASON OF HAUNTING ~ OPEN.
"Come little children, I’ll take thee away, Into a land of enchantment. Come little children, The time’s come to play, Here in my garden of shadows…"
Allison sang softly, just barely above a whisper as she danced around in her open garage, not caring who saw her. Her mother was busy setting up a haunted walk-through in their garage, which left her to dance to and sing some Halloween music.
"Follow sweet children, I’ll show thee the way, Through all the pain and the sorrows…" A whole year of waiting for this month to come again was agonizingly painful, but worth it. October was her favorite month of the year, with February coming in second and December in third. February because it is cold and she could still wear her sweaters up until around mid-March. December is third because she likes the cheeriness of everything, and one of her favorite things about December was the snow. It was so pure and innocent, unlike the tainted souls of the human beings.
Now it was finally her favorite month, and she was more than ready for it.
ت
ت ~ SEND A ت FOR A HAND-DRAWN PICTURE OF OUR MUSES.
{Well, I drew them by hand first, took a picture, and added effects. Please forgive me if it is not good enough for you and want me to redo it.}
{*crawls under blankets* Here you go…. ;-; *hides away*}
TEXT ~ WRONG NUMBER ~ OPEN.
5:53 P.M.
ALLISON: Cool! I will meet you outside the store, is that okay? I bet they do, they always have amazing costumes.
5:57 p.m.
FRANCES: Yeah, that sounds great! I’ll see you there Allison!
About a half an hour or so passes and Frances finally arrives at the mall. She is dressed in her typical gothic dress as she walked towards the Halloween store. On her way in she saw a few different places she may just have to check out on the way out. After searching for a few minutes she arrived at the store to see a girl standing by the entrance.
"You must be Allison. I’m Frances."
She spoke with a warm smile extending her hand out.
5:59 P.M.
ALLISON: Wicked! See you then!
Having been waiting for a while now, she began to wonder if the one she had been texting would show up. She did not want to go in yet for she wanted both of them to walk in together. But, despite her slight doubt, they were heading towards her in a dark attire. Admitting to herself in thought that she admired the gloomy look, she snapped back to reality and gave a small smile in return, taking a meek hold of her hand and giving it a shake before letting go.
"Hi," Allison returned the greeting with her usual slightly crooked smile. "Nice to meet you, Frances. Ready to go costume hunting?" With that question posed now, she gestured towards the store with her right hand.
CHAT ~ OPEN.
Now she gave a wider smile this time along with a tiny burst of laughter. Who would say that phrase? Off your trolley? It was not common here, so that is what made it different. It was a phrase she had learned from someone else, and it stuck because it was unusual. She was unusual. She was different.
But that did not matter to her, and neither did the word perfect. Nothing and no one is perfect, so why does it exist? Then again, she questions herself as to why she exists at all. It was upsetting, thinking that one has no purpose. Either that, or thinking that one will never reach their purpose and die with sorrow and tears. Still being a bit young, she just did not think she would have enough time in her life to accomplish anything.
Snapping back to reality and the conversation, she finally spoke.
"I’m up for it," Allison replied, shifting in her seat a little as if she was ready to go right then and there. They would leave soon, so that meant she would not have to keep shifting eagerly in her seat. "I like collecting weird things." Then she paused, scrunching up her nose in thought. Thinking of the things she owned that were weird and a bit unusual was not too hard. "I have a bunch of skeleton skulls in a box. They’re not real, but a few look like it. They’re all kinds of colors and some are decorated, but they’re old-looking."
After a few seconds passed with silence, she began to gather her things. Putting her drawing in her artsy folder carefully, she picked up her pencil and put it in her bag after the folder. Then she sat there, looking at Tate with a bit of a wider smile, but it was not full yet.
"C’mon, let’s go," Allison piped up again after she blew her bangs out of her eyes with a short huff of breath. Soon she was standing from her seat and heading over so that she was a few feet away from him.
Some might assume that Tate was deep and insightful, considering how much poetry he wrote and read and how much he kept to himself. The reality of it was that he wasn’t…not really. He didn’t think about things like his purpose or why he existed. He spent most of his time thinking about how the world was worth shit and how much better things would be if everything just ended. Dark and endless was the tunnel of thought that he spent most of his time on.
”You keep them in a box?” he laughs, wondering why she doesn’t do something with them, “There is this like, old church or whatever in Italy. The monks there used to decorate the walls with the bones of dead people. Real bones, on the walls, it’s really fucking cool,” he tells her. Rome in general is a really cool place and he has a read a lot about it, what it’s like now and all the history that’s happened there. Not that he considers travelling much, but it would definitely be a cool place to go.
”Maybe we’ll find something for your collection” he adds, noticing the way that she fidgets in her seat. When she puts her drawing away, he realizes that she is ready to go so he grabs his back-pack, shoving a few of the things in front of him into the bag.
He follows her over to the door, passing through and leading her out of the hallways of the school. It’s a nice day outside, which he appreciates despite the amount of time he spends shutting the sun out in his room, “Wanna walk? I don’t think I have change to the bus,”
It would also take longer which means more time he can spend away from. His mother would want to kill him for coming home late, God forbid that he miss family supper. Though there was a small twinge of guilt for leaving Addie to it by herself, they hardly got through a meal without an argument anyways.
"Sure," She replied with a slight nod. "We can walk."
The box was probably just as old as some of the skulls as it was made by her great-grandfather. Then she stayed silent, listening to Tate as he conversed with her about Italy. That was a rather beautiful place, but some of it can be darker, which she liked. Everything and everyone had a dark side, even though some hardly show it. "Italy sounds amazing," she finally remarked, a small smile stuck on her lips. "Oh, the places we could go if we only got the chance...."
Ah, chances and opportunities, just two of the many things that were lacking in the lives of the outcasts. Some outcasts were practically begging to be accepted while others could not care less. That is just the way some things are, you get what is handed to you from life and you can either run from it or face it and learn from it.
If she could be honest with herself at least once today, she would admit that she was a bit excited to visit a pawn shop. This would be her first time going to one, and she had thought about going but had no one to accompany her. Now she had him, and she was glad for it. He was kinder to her than the majority, but she did not really know why. Figuring she'd better not question it, she continued to walk with him.
"I wonder what kinds of boxes are there," Allison thought aloud, scrunching up her nose in thought. "I like weird things, especially carved boxes and decorated skulls. I also like old-fashioned clothes and posters....Not to mention vintage things...." Then her voice trailed off, so she stayed silent and waited for him to say something. She felt as if she was rambling a little, so she figured it was a good time to pause in speech for a moment.
1. The meaning behind my URL 2. A picture of me 3. Why I love my bestfriend 4. Last time I cried and why 5. Piercings I have 6. Favorite Band 7. Biggest turn off(s) 8. Top 5 (insert subject) 9. Tattoos I want 10. Biggest turn on(s) 11. Age 12. Ideas of a perfect date 13. Life goal(s) 14. Piercings I want 15. Relationship status 16. Favorite movie 17. A fact about my life 18. Phobia 19. Middle name 20. Anything you want to ask
Send me a ✄ and I'll write your URL in my handwriting.
I will do this. I have pretty neat handwriting.
My muse has shut themselves in a closet out of anger/fear. What will your muse say to coax them out?
submitted by anonymous.
+ 4 are in need of a good housekeeper
"Sweet dreams are made of this, who am I to disagree?" Moira sang loudly in the lonely murder house. It wasn’t too lonely because some ghost was always here, but it was devoid of living people for the day- the Harmons had gone out to a movie.
She danced around the house using the feather duster as a microphone until she heard a door slam. She glanced up in confusion, “Hello?”
Curse those stupid high school kids and their ridiculous dares. Of course she had been dared to go into the strange-looking house alone. The others were too scared to go in, so they had her go. But there was a catch, she had to stay in there for twenty minutes and if she screamed then she would owe them something. They still had yet to decide what that something would be.
So she waited, inside now after closing the door. It felt gloomy and dark, as if the shadows were all depressed which led them to reach out across everything to get to another shadow. These shadows seemed desperate for another connection, sprawling themselves over whatever they could where light did not pour in.
Taking a few steps forward, she figured she might as well do something besides standing for twenty minutes. Glancing in each of the empty rooms that she passed, she noticed that they had this weird feeling about them. If she was to enter one, she would surely be swallowed by the lonely shadows.
Then she stopped, frozen in her place when she heard a voice.
She was not alone.
"Who’s there?" Allison called at a normal volume, not wanting to be loud.
Moira stopped singing as she heard the front door open and the sound of feeble footsteps.
"Hello?" She called out as well, rounding the corner and entering the kitchen only to see a young girl standing there.
"Uh…."She looked at her, "You’re not supposed to be here."
Frozen in place when she heard the voice again, she had no idea what to do or what to say. What was she supposed to do? What could possibly be said? Hearing the voice suddenly closer and coming from behind, she let out a yelp and whirled around, facing another being.
"I--I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude...." Allison stammered, her gaze immediately shifting from the other to her sneakers. "I was d-dared to come in....I don't w-want any trouble...."
CHAT ~ OPEN.
After she had walked through the empty halls and back into the library with her head down, she felt different. She felt different because this time it had been at school, not at home. It was painful when she was in the bathroom, thinking what would happen when she went back to the library. But now she was and there was no turning back again. Taking a seat once more, she hung her head as low as it would go, not wanting to look around.
Why had she broken down so easily? Because she believes that she is not strong enough. With all of the things that she had put up with in life, her disorders were the worse. They were slowly killing her minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day….
What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she be normal?
There was no point in being normal. Every individual was not their own kind of unique, they were formed into a mindless clone that acts, looks, and speaks like all the others. That is just what society does, it forces all of these ridiculously impossible expectations on everyone except for the favorites. The kind, the loved, the pretties, the smarties, everyone except the outcasts. The outcasts, the ones that do not belong, are left behind.
Then she heard her name, and she was snapped back into reality. It was him, the one who had taunted her until she cracked. But there were many more to come, she knew this. Maybe there would be more today, tonight, tomorrow, the next day….
There was no telling when she would break, but she knew she could not control these fractures. She could try, but there would be no point.
Finally, after a few minutes had passed, she lifted her head slightly to glance at the guy from behind her bangs. He had called her by her name, and it caught her off-guard. He told her that the scarf around her neck, the one of many that her Nana had made, was kind of nice. At least it was something, not so much an apology but she would take it.
"Thank you," Allison murmured quietly, fiddling a little with her scarf now.
—; Maybe the reason the pair rub each other the wrong way is because they’re so alike. Misfits. Outcasts. Freaks. At least, that’s the way the others label them. Jesse has a few friends at school, but he doesn’t have any ‘real’ friends. Connections are dangerous, the closer ones anyways, it means getting hurt and that is something that he just can’t deal with right now.
—; If everyone was just a little more honest with themselves, they’d all find out they aren’t normal. Some of them just find it easier to cover it up. Some of them just find ways to make it through. To save himself being unwontedly judged, he’s crude and blunt just to rub people the wrong way. It’s better if he gives them a reason to not like him.
—; Better than the truth, that they wouldn’t like him anyways. At least if he acts this way, it’s his choice, it’s under his control…isn’t it?
—; She says thank you and he sighs, turning away from her and not wanting this conversation to go on any longer. It feels like the volume in his skull has been turned up all the way but that doesn’t mean that he can hear anything better than before.
—; Cursing and glancing around to see if anyone is looking he reaches into his bag and pulls out a little orange bottle of prescription drugs. Can’t exactly smoke weed in the middle of the library and though he hates how docile it make him feel, sometimes when his anxiety get so extreme he will take it.
—; Dropping a pill into his hand, he tosses it into his mouth, swallowing the pill dry before throwing the bottle back into his bag and hoping that no one has noticed. Usually he sells it. Immediately he returns to his position of his chin on his crossed arms on the desk, closing his eyes, legs bouncing and waiting for the drug that’s working it way to his stomach to dissipate into his blood stream.
Waiting, waiting.
For a while now she had been waiting to see if anything would happen, but nothing did. Nothing was done, nothing was said. There was only silence, and it blanketed them with great strength as if it was trying to suffocate them. It was going to suffocate them until someone eventually gasped for air. Someone would, they were bound to do it some time soon.
There was a faint shuffling sound of someone moving, and she glanced up for a moment to see the guy eating something. Well, maybe he was eating something, it just looked like it. He had put something in his mouth and after he rested his head on his arms, she looked back down at her rolled down sleeves as she was doing before.
It was hard, trying to make it through one day at a time when one felt like they should be making their departure. Everyone knew their time was coming, but she grew tired of waiting for hers. Every day spent without smiling is a day lost, as some might say. But she did not care, it did not matter. For far too long had she been broken, she could not smile as much as she used to.
They were all just wasting time by doing nothing and just sitting around. They were dead inside, some more than others, but none more than her. At least that is what it seemed. Although she did not know the guy, she could tell that they were not going to get along if they ever saw each other somewhere else. Maybe she was right, or maybe she was wrong.
Who knows?
Finally, the teacher came in and told them that they could take a break and eat. They could move around in the library, but afterwards they had to return to sitting quietly and resist speaking. The others reached into their backpacks and bags, pulling out their lunches and began to eat. But she did not move. She did not get her lunch out, which consisted only of some strawberries and a bottle of water. Instead she sat there, staring at her sleeves, wishing the wounds she had made were deeper.
[ASK THE MUN~]
Amazing: Your OTP in 3 fandoms?
Buzz: What song do you listen to when you're feeling down?
Cup: Do you drink Tea or Coffee?
Dopey: Tell us an embarrassing story.
English: How many languages can you speak?
Fear: Tell us three fears.
Game: What was the last board game you played?
Harry Potter: What was the last book you read?
Injury: Have you ever walked into a glass door?
Jump: Do five jumping jacks/star jump.
Kiss: Who's your biggest celebrity crush?
Love: Do you believe in marriage?
Money: What would you do with 1 million dollars?
Naughty: Tell us three things that your parents disapprove of?
Oops: What is one thing you'd like to change/fix?
Picture: Post a pic of your lovely face.
Quality: Name three of your favourite blogs.
Rapunzel: Name three Disney movies that you adore.
Star-sign: When's your birthday?
Teacher: What do you aspire to be?
Unite: Do you sponsor a cause?
Varsity: Do you play/watch sport?
Xylophone: Do you play an instrument?
Yellow: What's your favourite colour?
Zoo: What is your favourite animal?
Send me:
❤ - I want our characters to date
☀ - I want our characters to argue
☆ - I want our characters to stargaze
☂ - I want our characters to be caught out in the rain
☻ - I want our characters to meet
♞ - I want our characters to play a game
☯ - I want our characters to do something NSFW
⌘ - I want one of our characters to lose control (emotionally or physically)
{YOU LIKED IT? WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT? FINALLY, I WROTE A DRABBLE THAT MADE SOMEONE HAPPY! ~ <3333 :3 *hugs forever*}
♦
♦ ~ SEND A ♦ IF YOU WANT ME TO PICK THE FOURTH SONG ON MY SHUFFLED iTUNES AND WRITE A DRABBLE BASED ON IT FOR OUR MUSES.
~~
SONG: I'm Yours [Cover]
~~
All this time she had been trying to play it cool, but she felt more awkward than usual. He was a really funny and understanding guy once she got to know him and, overall, he was a kind person. She wanted to be his friend but was too nervous to bring up the idea. Sure, she wanted to be his friend and all, but did he want to be hers in return? Did he even think of her as a possible friend? Well, whatever the answer is, she was nervous about it.
"Hey, Allison," Tate greeted her with a small smile as he takes a seat across from her at the table, crossing his arms and leaning a little forward on the table.
"Hi," Allison returned the gesture with her own slightly crooked smile, glancing at him for a moment before returning her gaze to the sketch she was working on before he had come. Don't worry, she told herself in her thoughts.
"What're you working on?" He asked, leaning forward a tiny bit more to get a look at it.
"A portrait...." Her attention was split between their conversation and her sketch, which caused her voice to fade out slightly.
"Of who?"
"I don't know, just a portrait...."
"Allison?" Now his tone sounded questioning, and she looked up at him after she came to a decent stopping point.
"Hmm?"
"I--I'm your friend, right?" His voice spoke to her in a way that said, I need to know. What should she say? Yes? No? Not yet? So many things she could say, but one phrase came to mind and she let it slip without thinking.
"Yep, and I'm yours." Allison gave a real smile this time and, even though it was a bit crooked, it was one that showed her answer was sincere.
Then they both smiled, and she was the first to look away and get back to her sketch. Lifting her head slightly, she blew her bangs out of her eyes as she shook her head a little before returning to her sketch. Tate was still watching her, and she continued to work towards finishing her sketchy portrait.
SEND A ت FOR A HAND-DRAWN PICTURE OF OUR MUSES.
SEND A ♦ IF YOU WANT ME TO PICK THE FOURTH SONG ON MY SHUFFLED iTUNES AND WRITE A DRABBLE BASED ON IT FOR OUR MUSES.
