contemplating revamping this account, even though i have moved on to a general inspo blog with a sideblog for rping on the side ... this is messy. i’m sorry.

in any case, you can PM me for my discord, yup. 

i miss madi and hailey and g and their muses and this account should i return or? 

school will start again tomorrow and seeing as i haven't gotten anything done during school break, maybe classes and less time and lots of stress will get me back into the swing of things. i anybody would like to plot, hmu.

sorry for my semi-inactivity. life gets in between things but i have a draft for @motherwolf in my drafts i intend on replying to as soon as i can.

Light reflects on water surface, safe distance keeping her apart from the wine-dark cold, below the burning spring-horizon. Her arms fold above her chest, the last rays of the sun getting lost in dancing tendrils of perfect blonde, and she sounds a sigh. She’s unaware of the presence beside her, whose identity is trapped inside the silhouette, barely prominent in her peripheral vision. 

“You know, maybe--”, the other’s under no obligation to offer reply, she sounds those words just in case, “the Buddhists had it right all along. The world is an illusion.”

i’m sorry for taking so long with drafts. if anybody would like a ;

lyric- or quote-based starter like this

you are also free to send in memes. 

motherwolf:

he’d never quite mastered the art of light-heartedness or merriment.  no matter how much effort was conjured and put into the endeavor of stern avoidance,  the slippery slope of a glum mind kept steering toward the dark of his past’s mistakes and future’s harrowing uncertainty.  he wasn’t any good at blind-sighted optimism,  too lured in by the inevitable bad,  the cruelty of natural evolution within the years of a single,  brutally human life.  well aware those thoughts weren’t holding claim or right of existence in a moment of recent reunion,  and yet he could not help but remember that their story was finite.  it had been from the moment they first met,  all those years ago.  their ending was unlikely to be one stemming from contentment and happiness but bitterness and misfortune.  but perhaps in another life,  things would fall into place,  in their favor.  as she spoke,  he began to lightly shake his head,  from side to side with eyes partially veiled by fluttering skin.  it wasn’t like it’d been on her ...“eve--”  it very much sounded like a soft plea,  some kind of request for things he found himself unable to specify in reticent process of hazy thoughts.  a near silent sigh, and a moment later he stared again into a set of eyes,  with their distinct,  close to hypnotic heterochromatic character.  his answer was denoted by quiet,  perhaps enough for her to understand his will’s surrender. 

a good man,  but he was sure such impression only applied to how she viewed him.  outside her curious mind,  he wasn’t too convinced of his outright good qualities.  and she probably still knew how effortlessly she could make any sense of vague determination crumble,  lead him to give in far too easy for his weak-minded liking.  it was what he got from the contentment sought by her company.  the certain peace of troubled mind like a kindred spirit’s warm embrace.  and all he could bring himself to do was stir muscles and form a nod,  opposite of a previous movement accomplished by a lack of better choices of faulty intuition.  “okay.”  it was all he could say in the moment,  body growing more heavy by the minute,  like gravity sunk into a pit of despair to pull him underground.  “okay.”

           —open

Fluorescent night lights blind her limited sight in a dark room, crowded by individuals, lost at sea, all who carry the poison of longing for adventure, dangerous disease inside their spoilt systems. Flashing sources of illumination blaze bright like beacons of neon tinctures – manmade suns of vast colorful variety along the diverse palette. She can be anything, fiery red or midnight blue. But now, she seems to be anything that bears a smile. One, almost genuine as it sets against plump petals and her arms sway above her head in the air. A slow process of lowering them along the lines of loosening curls of gold. Hips sway in the rhythm of melodical electronic throbs, trailing the line of a heavy bass. She spills a laugh at the thought of troubles, supposed to weigh on her fast-paced mind in the wake of a bright sunrise caught in a glass, sweet against her tongue and the saccharine flavor continues to stain those plump lips in the bright shade of faded lipstick. Nothing but the shadow of what has been a red hue mere hours prior to this instant.

                                            Carefree.