99centspells

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What was he to you? A trigger

THE LITTLE DRUMMER GIRL (2018 -)

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dubovoye​:

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“   COME  ON,  DON’T  BE  STUPID,  BLUE.   ”      jameson wraps his arm around his friend’s shoulders, somewhat awkwardly given how much shorter she is, but all the same, with mocking affection.  “  cartoon  haunted houses are the only good kind.  nothing good ever happens in the live action ones, and nothing at all happens in the real ones.  you’re the only fun kind of spooky friend.  ”

          she pouts up at him, eyebrows furrowing in annoyance as she crosses her arms, heaving an over dramatic sigh. she leans back against him, scrunching her face up before sticking her tongue out at him, a laugh escaping as soon as she does it. it’s just like jameson to do this, isn’t it?  ❛ i can’t believe you found a way to twist it into a compliment while simultaneously still being a skeptic! ❜ she rolls her eyes, smile creeping onto her face.  ❛ it truly is a talent. ❜

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         ❛ um, ❜ she starts, uncertainly, gaze flickering away from his and focusing on her straw as she apparently needs to think very hard about this. considering she only vaguely remembers either of those things, it is pretty hard to pick which once most closely resembles her when she honestly can’t remember what differentiates the two in the first place. she twirls the plastic between shimmering fingers, shrugging absently. might as well pick one.  ❛ sabrina? kind of? ❜

          ❝   okay but like,  what kinda witch are we talking here?   like sabrina vibes or hocus pocus vibes?   ❞   yes,  the distinction was important as evident by the spark in his eyes.   he was leant over the table,  food pushed to the side for the time being.   conduits he’s met,  but a witch?  that’s new.   /   @99centspells​

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✧･ﾟ: * aesthetics : colours edition.

𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 cloudless sky / ocean waves / winter dusk / deserted rest stops / dust filled book jackets / sea salt in your lungs / open space lofts / mountainside meditation / empty ski lodges / calm before storms / electric charged air / lighthouses / road trips with no destination / desert skies / summer breeze through a cottage window / cool air against water soaked skin / seaside towns during off season / wind-chimes / big bed with lots of blankets / coming home after a long time away / a wolf howling in the distance / fingers dancing along spine / a hug from an old friend / afternoon tea / wild flowers off abandoned highways.

𝐑𝐄𝐃 wine soaked lips / internalized rage / blood on knuckles / four poster beds / barefoot on marble floor / velvet drapes / lipstick marks / murder mysteries / old barns with hay lofts / mouth full of weapons / love / dark chocolate / apple orchard visits / handwritten letters / fresh strawberry fields / cherry flavored chapstick / soft candlelight / vintage pumps / tingles over your body / strong but gentle hand around your throat / scarf tied over your eyes / fog on a rainy night / intimate bar settings / complete destruction / kiss swollen lips / scratches against flesh / sitting by a fireplace / blood orange sunsets.

𝐘𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖 community gardens / sunflower seeds / open fields / blowing dandelion fluffs / bubbles in spring / warm champagne / drafty cottages opened after winter / soft buzzing near your ear / loose braids / flaxen sundresses / handmade straw hats / warm butter on fresh toast / daisy chains / drum circles / sun on your face / maypoles / outdoor festivals / street food / car shows / pop art drawings / fruity flavors / mist on produce / running through sprinklers / cucumber water / wrap around porches / worn pages of a book / honey in tea / yard sales / freckled skin / tarnished gold lockets / angel food cake / windmills / flashlight beams.

𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐍 marshy swamps / cajun recipes / haunted graveyards / old road signs / the house people tell stories about / lights flickering / jazz music / twig snapping / campfires / ghost stories / urban exploration / vines creeping up brick / wooden flutes / quiet forests / labored breaths / hiking trails / rain on leaves / bonfires / fresh smoothies / water logged grotto / painful whispers from jealous lovers / successful business ventures / leaky cellars / park theatre productions / mint scented lotions / ambitious promises / pine needle covered floors / oil lanterns / aloe on warmed skin / crushing floral foam / forgotten towns.

𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 crinkle of leather jacket / midnight walks / bulbs burning out / black lacquered nails / the sound of bats screeching / distant marching band music / noises when you’re home alone / blood soaked knife / dark lipstick on pale skin / scent of sulfur / soot on boots / slasher movies / glint of cat eyes in the dark / oil slicks on dark asphalt / basement bedrooms / investigating a noise / grainy camera footage / black and white photos / dust filled attics / empty theatres / whistling in the middle of the night / scratches at your window / wrought iron gates / lace neck ruffles / long floor sweeping skirts / broken music boxes / needle scratching on vinyl / lost memories / disembodied voices / forgotten faces.

𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 crisp scents / laundry on a line / fleece blankets / brightly lit hospital rooms / empty train stations / genuine laughter / feathers against skin / new life / cotton dresses / log cabins in winter / swan gliding through water / harp music floating through the air / plane rides for fun / mountain tops / ice sculptures / first snowflake of winter / linen freshly pressed / the scent of a running dryer / vanilla and cinnamon milk / a smile from a stranger / letters in the mail / a longing finally satiated / kiss of moonlight on skin / fresh canvas / snow glittering like diamonds / paint strokes / pretty lie told from a kind mouth / sparklers / coffee foam art.

tagged by: @destinymastered ily

tagging: whoever wants to i did this ages ago and realized i never posted it

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dubovoye​:

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“   BLUE,  I  AM  IN  NO  WAY  SURPRISED  BY  THAT.   ”      he teases so easily, and in ice - grey hues, a touch of mischief reversed for blue gleams.  a  silly grin hardly suppressed, he continues,  “  isn’t that’s what friends are for?  telling you you’re the cartoon - haunted - house version of a person, and sticking around anyways?  aren’t i great?  ”

         ❛ jameson! ❜ she gasps, eyes blowing wide as that blissful expression quickly morphs into mimed heartbreak. smile switched out for a playful pout, she sways against him with a sigh, smushing her cheek against his arm. she peers up at him, big blue eyes sparkling with overdramatic hurt. ❛ i totally deserve better than a cartoon haunted house! c’mon, i’m, like, at least a live action one, if not a real life one! ❜

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you’re the human equivalent of spooky chain noises. ( from jameson xoxo )

last podcast on the left. / accepting.

         ❛ oh my god, jameson, ❜ she breathes, expression shifting into faux bliss, eyes sparkling up at him as though he’d just showered her in compliments. a smile twitches at the corner of her mouth as her hand dramatically clasps her chest as she speaks, her voice soft with teasing reverence. ❛ that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me. ❜

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          she’s been splayed out on this bench in the park for a while now, really only moving to switch positions when it gets uncomfortable. which has left her now, hanging upside down off the edge of the bench, legs bent against the backrest and hair just barely brushing the ground next to her backpack. all in the name of “getting some fresh air” or whatever ( or that’s what she’ll tell herself to pretend it’s not just her going stir crazy after going like two weeks without talking to anyone ). but lucky her, that seems like it’s about to change pretty soon, at least. 

          she’s not really in the habit of being very aware of those around her  — which explains why, despite the fact that she’d noticed the absolute fucking giant standing across the park earlier, she still jumps when they address her, somehow not having noticed their approach until they were right fucking there. she blinks slowly at them, once, twice, three times, as if it takes that long for the words for register. not bothering to sit up just yet, she tugs her bag next to her face and rifles through it, eventually pulling out her lighter, small fingers wrapping around the sharpie covered plastic. it’s only then that she scrambles up to sit up properly, holding it up to them ( she can’t help but notice that even right side up the sheer size difference between the two of them is honestly kind of ridiculous ). 

         ❛ yeah, here. ❜

              wheel turns with each press of the thumb,  and yet the lighter fails to spark.   with a sigh, they remove the cigarette from between lips,  tucking it behind their ear temporarily.   some would say to them that it was a small mercy,  but the burn of nicotine was quickly become an ingrained craving.   a different form of self destruction;  a new outlet when blood could not spill and dance and weave by their puppeteering.

               there was one another in the park,  a young woman with hair peroxide bright.   they danced around her as a stranger did,  planets forced apart by their own magnetic fields.   she looked at least a decade their junior  –  enough of a difference that approaching her would draw unwelcome eyes.   regardless they slowly approached with light steps and hands shoved into pockets of their overcoat.   a small cough clears their throat and captures her attention as they slowly hold up both hands.   ❝   do you have a light?   ❞   slender hands shift to form the signs,  soundless words echoing on their lips.   it was a long shot,  but her hollowed eyes inclined them towards believing she may be able to help.

@99centspells   liked for a lukas starter!

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LAST PODCAST ON THE LEFT SENTENCE STARTERS PT. 15 —   quotes pulled from the podcast hosted by marcus parks, ben kissel, and henry zebrowski. contains nsfw content. feel free to make alterations.

i’m gonna get “bless this mess” as a tramp stamp one day.

who’s gonna die first?

legitimately, i think you’re becoming a dog.

we are concerned that you are going crazy.

i do not have a psychotherapy degree, but i never claimed to.

people keep telling me that stress is the silent killer, but i’m very loud.

the answer to that is - i can’t even express the amount of no to that.

look out the window: birds. isn’t that a reason to live?

i know i’m the sexy, sensible brunette.

those were cadaver dogs. you were fine.

well, if you feel that way, you’re wrong!

that’s a hell of a forty-eight hours right there.

but you know, if you fall asleep even for ten minutes, you wake up sober.

i’m very scared of horses, but i’ll go up on a horse to make sure [name] stays sexually attracted to me.

things are just… wackity-fucking-shmackity.

it’s not a documentary. you know that, right?

you can get drunk orally. you don’t have to do it anally.

stop sharpening knives.

introverts. all they do is sit there and plot.

you wanna be thanked for not murdering people?

sometimes you shouldn’t look at the bright side. sometimes you just gotta realize that there’s a real dark thing going on.

he choked like george bush on a pretzel.

i dip peanut butter in sugar, call it my adult popsicle.

did your brain just break?

man, i ate so many weed gummies last night.

i’m just saying it’s about what you know and what you don’t know.

you’re the human equivalent of spooky chain noises.

he’s got a big, thick ole cock. that’s one thing we know about him.

there’s never anything good in a basement. it’s either an exercise bike or a ghost.

i don’t think that [name] cares enough about us to kill us.

don’t join a cult today, okay? wait til tomorrow.

you don’t really go much to the bathroom when it’s just nothing but cocaine and milk in your system.

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“This now, this us, we can cope with that. We can do this together, you and I.” (wtnv, episode 12)

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i miss blue 

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Hey why the fuck am I not a slightly ominous forest entity that you only see out of the corner of your eye on a foggy day

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accidentally indulged in too much ‘me time’, turns out i’ve been reported missing for over six months and presumed dead by most local and national authorities

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THE GOOD PLACE 4.13 “Whenever You’re Ready”

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Rebel Without a Cause, dir. Nicholas Ray (1955)

requested by anon

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dubovoye‌:

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“  SURE.  WE  CAN  PRETEND  BIGFOOT’S  OUT  THERE,    becoming lord of the animals or whatever,  having a great time with his wolf - bear cult.  but come on, when you really think about it … it’s nonsense.  ”  blue would have to show him a witch for him to believe it  —-  she would have to walk him up to a coven and have him enchanted into dropping his skepticism.  and even then, jameson isn’t sure he would believe it.  he’d grown up in a town that believed in miracles and curses  (  and cursed was he,  jameson and all his sin  )  and when none of those miracles had been delivered, he’d decided not to believe along with them.  no use wasting his time, worrying about magic that time and time again failed to materialize.  everyone there had told him he was fucked too.  doesn’t take much magic to see how right they were.

and reason and explanations aside, blue’s antics are more than enough to keep him dissuaded, and to have him grinning, himself a momentary fool.  it’s not easy for someone like him  (  beaten down,  exhausted,  cynical  )   to imagine believing, but it doesn’t matter here.  neither of them are gonna change the other’s mind.  he just wants to have fun.  “  the world is interesting enough for me anyways.  i’ve seen plenty.  i don’t need mothman the bug prince flying at me to spice things up.  i don’t need someone cursing me for swearing too much or some bullshit.  things are more than spicy with me.  and if i need any more of it, well, that’s what i’ve got you for.  ”

          ❛ i think you’re nonsense. ❜ she jokingly sticks out her tongue to punctuate the childish response, only managing to hold the expression for a moment before she bursts into a bright giggle. she grins as she looks up at jameson, the amusement clear in her eyes.  blue’s not actually particularly bothered by jameson’s skepticism, really — if anything, it’s pretty hilarious. she knows the whole magic thing isn’t something most people actually want to think too hard about, and if she’s being honest, she really doesn’t blame him. people get uncomfortable thinking about the things they don’t understand, and discovering something that opens up the existence of a whole world of things they previously thought were exclusively fictional? she’s not surprised it’s hard to grasp. and jameson is stubborn. she doesn’t think she’d be able to convince him of anything — magical in nature or not — without explicit proof, and even then, she’s not totally sure he’d buy it.

          her grin grows when she sees his own smile, and she relishes in the small victory. she snorts at his words, rolling her eyes playfully. with a joking scoff, she crosses her arms, letting an air of pretension slip into her voice.  ❛ ugh, mothman’s not a prince, jameson. that’s just ridiculous. don’t be silly. ❜ she can only keep up the joke for a few seconds before her lips quirk up in another smile and she lets the facade dissolve fully. she bumps her hip against his ( or more against his thigh, considering their difference in heights, but she’s willfully choosing to ignore that fact ).  ❛ bringing spice to your life is really all i’m here for, you know. it’s my duty as a friend to not let you snark your way into being fucking boring. ❜

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Portrait of Jennie (1948)