adclias-blog

[adclias-blog]

salcms:

salem groans because really it’s just his luck that he’d move to wilson to chase his muse but then hit a major roadbloack on the actual design aspect when it came to gathering materials. he knows he’ll be doing far more importing but that’s going to require money which is a novelty salem lacks. he knows a few places he can get it but the hassle makes him want to scream. “looks like i’ll be heading to the next town over. a lot.” there’s a withering look but he’s appreciative that at least someone has a tiny ray of hope in the darkness that is wilson, oregon. “everything i do is dramatic. it’s how you survive, where i’m from.” he gives a knowing nod. “you’ll eulogize me, right? tell the world how i died for the aesthetique?”

           thankfully, adelia didn’t need a big city to thrive. all she needed was her stuff and people to come into her lives to continue her life. typically small towns had a little more uniqueness about them. she’s been in cities before, and those are lovely in their own regard, but she enjoys the quaintness. he grandmother lived in a small town, maybe that was also why. but she gets his struggle, and seeing him deflate makes her pout just the slightest bit. but of course, the dramatics is why they live on and she completely understands.   “ oh, of course, darling. i will tell the whole world your attempts in the greater arts were not in vain, and how we lost our next warhol to the pities of small town selections. “    she grins, hands clasping together with a dreamy sigh.   “ you shall be remembered, in the best of fashion. “

[adclias-blog]

bcbbybee:

the older woman’s presence had been comforting to bobby at the time. already tipsy, but not yet having been plied with so many drinks she could barely understand the basic concept of gravity, she’d succeeded in relaxing just enough to hold a full conversation with the kind stranger. she’d been almost reluctant to part ways when the exchange came to an end, considering it meant being left to her own devices in a room of her peers (her own age group is perhaps the one that suits her the least), with alcohol flowing in every direction amongst other substances she wouldn’t wish to put a name to. the night hadn’t ended well at all, come to think of it. if only she’d followed that little voice in her head that lingered once adelia had left, telling her to excuse herself entirely and head on home. 

seeing her now is rather startling, like she’d half imagined her not to exist in the real world. parties aren’t real, after all. they aren’t a part of bobby’s universe and (hopefully) never will be, so to meet someone in such a situation and then be approached by them outside of it is equivalent to having the figment of a dream come up to you and ask you how your day is going. it isn’t unpleasant as adelia only has kind connotations attached to her presence, but it does take the girl a full minute to process her existence inside of this cafe. “o-oh… it’s l-lovely to see you, t-too,” her cheeks are pinking up, bashful as her gaze drifts toward the table top. she’d never shame someone for their lifestyle choices, but she feels as though she’s presented herself as a lie. she isn’t the person adelia met; she’s far from the girl who goes out and drinks with friends or parties the nights away. she isn’t sure how to explain that, though, or whether or not she even should. “y-yeah, i… i d-don’t really, um… i didn’t enjoy b-being that intoxicated,” she admits instead, giving a small fidget in her seat. 

             adelia could tell full well that that party wasn’t exactly bobby’s scene. she wasn’t exactly one who hid it well. part of her wished she would have just stayed with her new friend for the night to make sure no one took advantage of her. should have fought off all the hungry eyes and wanting hands. but they parted ways and that was that. there was no turning back now. but adelia could make sure she was alright now. she was glad to have run into her, ease her conscious a little about the whole thing. clearly, her body was in one piece, but she had no idea what was going on inside, and really, anything could be going on.

her slim legs crossed over one another, and her body draped like satin curtains. everything she did was dripped with a sort of beautiful calculation. well, maybe it wasn’t thought of so much anymore, she just sort of did it. that’s what happens when beauty becomes a habit. the words come out as staccato, and it’s beautiful like a lovely piano piece. he voice is soft, and adelia smiles softly, hoping to ease bobby into the conversation.   “ that’s good. that’s how you develop an addiction. “   looking around her, she gazes at the shop. it’s not loud, but it’s busy. there are people at almost every table.   “ but you are okay, right? you got home alright? “   she just needed to make sure.

[adclias-blog]

salcms:

Salem isn’t shy about starting conversations with strangers, especially when they look like they’re just dying for contact with someone interesting, for once in their pitiful existences (he exaggerates but he assumes the small town vibe doesn’t attract many vibrant characters). He especially enjoys the sound of his own voice, raised in complaint, and this particular stranger looks like the perfect target for their whines. “Please, you have to help me,” he begins dramatically, hands gesticulating with each word. “Are the rumors true? Is there really no fabric store in all of Wilson? I may die.” Again, exaggerating. It’s what Salem does best, evidently.

            for once, adelia was taking a step away from her shop. she began to go down the streets, wondering how to spend her day. she already spent two hours at a coffee shop. she was beginning to get bored with all the walking and searching, but thankfully, a particular vivacious individual stopped her, asking odd, and very urgent question. slightly puzzled, she pondered her answer a moment.   “ not that i am aware of. “   she raises a hand with a realization.  “ though the next town over has larger stores, you might be able to find one there. “   with her answer being over, she gave him a smile,   “ quite a dramatic death, though, my dear. i am always a fan of the theatrics. “

[adclias-blog]

              not many people were blessed with coming up to adelia’s penthouse. not many people got to see the extravagance of her humble abode. it was furnished with her grandparent’s things, and decorated with things adelia has found on her own time. it was spacious, modern, yet old. it smelled of her and there were flowers where they looked as though they’d fit. her balcony doors were open and her cream curtains blew in the gentle wind. she felt like today would be a wistful day. one where she laid on her long couch in her robe and listened to music, always with a glass of wine or champagne. but she couldn’t do it alone, no no. this was where sophia came in. a girl with the pleasure of being allowed into such a private place. a girl adelia liked to spend time with. one with soft skin and a glowing smile. she always sounds interested to the deepest extent when adelia talks about her things. about the history of them, all the culture. she likes having someone to talk to about what she loves. it gives her a little hope in the newer generation, if there’s one girl who has an old soul, here must be more.

but that doesn’t even get into the desire of fingers on skin. she asks for advice and adelia inherently plays with her hair. she hums in thought, considering advice but thinking of other things. she tries not to let her mind wander but she does. however, she’s still in the moments of laying on the couch with a glass of pinot noir. she looks to see sophia, who had come in not long ago.  so she sits up, looking at the girl who was still getting herself settled.   “ i haven’t had much of any plans for today, my darling. i hope you don’t mind. “  at this point, they would probably be bound to this home, and that was okay. she has her classic films and her records, and even her cards if they really get bored. but she didn’t worry they wouldn’t be able to find something.

@sophiarcse // closed starter !!

[adclias-blog]

phillipcarver:

even from across the square, he knew adelia would want the flowers. he could’ve shown up holding anything - from a puppy to an old bicycle tire and she would have been excited about it, no matter what. he loved that about her, the great attraction she had on people just simply by loving and finding the beauty in everything and anything was… incredible to lip. “thank you,” he chuckles, despite the implied ‘meanness’ of the words, he knew adelia only meant it in a way to benefit him. “someone sent them as a thank you, and the girl working the front desk put them out and the air conditioning,” he waves vaguely, “got the pollen all spread around.” he thanks her, taking the little embroidered cloth - of course she of all people would be toting this old thing around - and dabbing his nose gently.

         adelia was fully aware of the difference between unique, and trash. peple brought her all sorts of things and most of the time, she could see the good in it. see it’s potential. other times, she just pretended and threw it away later. she was here to life people up and adelia was doing just that with phillip.  she clicked her tongue and shook her head.   “ what a shame, i am so sorry my dear. “   allergies were the worst, she could recognize. thankfully, she was perfect in every way and never had to deal with watery eyes or runny eyes. her mother would say they were blessed, but adelia knew that blessed just meant superior. it was a mentality she tried to get away from.   “ what else can i do to help you. i will not sit here watching your nose run a river and do nothing. “

[adclias-blog]

hawthorncs:

Adelia checks her watch like the seconds matter, like it makes sense to use the phrase ‘nick of time’ as if this isn’t all some giant coincidence. Noah will admit that there have been points during their long history at which he’s questioned the existence of fate, of kismet, but he seems to always fall back on old thoughts of serendipity. A prettier word than ‘chance’, but a similar thing nonetheless. They are not part of a plan, but they are part of something, and that ought to mean a lot. He catches a whiff of her perfume, trailing behind her like a living presence, an embrace that wraps around him as he follows; he’s a celestial body pulled into the gravity of her, of someone so much bigger than he is. At least in presence, and at least in personality, and at least in so many things that he’s still uncertain are real. People are constructs of their own design, and he knows from experience what it’s like to project something, that despite his deeper intuition and the pull he feels towards her, his brief windows into the over-all chaos of her life are just that: windows. Glimpses. He can’t determine who she is, even after ten years, and right now, she’s like a breathing mystery, floating gracefully on ahead of him and drawing him near. A mystery that feels familiar to him.

The touch of her fingers lingers on his skin like a ghost, like a shadow, and he tries to ignore her overwhelmingly like he tries to ignore his pulse filling his ears. It doesn’t work.

“You own this place.” It’s not a question because he doesn’t need for it to be. It’s so very her that there’s no way anybody else has had any influence in collecting the odds and ends of everything beautiful in the world, a stunning, cluttered mess that stretches from one end of the room to another. He watches as he passes memories by, reaching out occasionally to trail his fingertips over things, and then they’re somewhere he hasn’t been yet. He feels her crowding up to him like they’re touching, though she remains a foot or two away from him, and he casts indigo eyes about, catching here and there on points of interest. He doesn’t know what to make of it all, but he does know that he could spend years in here, unravelling every little thing, and still not understand the full picture of it. He’s always had that impression of the harpist, of the breathtaking disarray of her mind; it’s neither a good thing nor a bad. In fact, it’s quite ambiguous at the root of it, and the more he tries to work out his feelings and the meanings of them, the less he seems to know. He frequently gives up trying, particularly so when it comes to Adelia. “I wasn’t aware you chose to settle down for long enough to run a business.”

             there was a time when adelia had a fast beating heart and a dream of selling all things old while seeing the world before her eyes. a dream where she sold through temporary spots. she spent a while traveling to flea markets. but eventually, as adelia grew older and her heart bigger, she opened shops. she rented spaces of course, never for long but for a time where she could make something back. she was born with a silver spoon in her mouth and she would never deny that she got a helping hand from her grandparent’s money. or her parents. she didn’t start from the bottom, though she had endless respect for those who did. no, adelia simply took what she was given, and used it. 

and somehow noah had been around for her journey and yet new so little of it. it made her wonder if she actually wanted to share the details. the realistic fact of traveling and selling antiques and vintage clothing. but they weren’t around to listen to each other talk about real life. and just seeing him made her want to collapse into absolute oblivion. where nothing mattered but whatever she decided. and she decided that was noah.

she’s close to the back of the store before she turns on her heels fast, short platnum curls fanning around her face. she looks around her shop for a moment, a small, dazzling smile on her lips. filled with pride and yet, a little mischief.   “ the building isn’t mine but everything inside it ?  yes, it is all mine. “  she waves his statements off and laughs.  “ you must forget that my extravagance leaves me with little crutches. besides, noah, ‘long’ is subjective. your long might be six months. my long might be five years. all in all, i leave when i desire and my things come with me. other factors are no issue. “   not when you come from adelia’s kind of money. she extends a hand, delicate fingers trying to grasp for his.   “ i have missed you, noah. “   there was a pause as she thought.   “ two girls came into my store three days ago, and they said this word ‘shook’ . i had to ask them what it meant, but i feel that it applies now. “   she grinned, beaming with the irony of using such a new word.  “ i am rather shook that you are here, my dear. “

[adclias-blog]

Meet the People in My Muse’s Life

Send a Symbol, and they’ll tell you about:

🌻 - Their Father 🌷 - Their Mother 🌟 - A Different Family Member 🐶 - A Pet 👊 - A Best Friend 👋 - A Friend 🔍  - An Acquaintance 🍼 - A Child (Theirs or Not) 🎭 - A Former Friend 👿 - An Enemy 📪 - A Neighbor 💘 - A Love Interest 👻  - Someone They Don’t See Often 💀 - Someone Deceased ☀️ - Someone who Can “Turn Lemons into Lemonade” ☔️ - Someone who Can “Turn Lemonade into Lemons” 🍀 - Someone Lucky 🍰 - Someone who Loves Food 🍜 - Someone who’s A Great Cook

[adclias-blog]

phillipcarver:

“do you -” lip stops himself to sneeze into his elbow, “excuse me. do you want these?” he offers the flowers to the person he’d approached. “there’s nothing wrong with them i just,” another sneeze, “sorry, god, i’m allergic to the asters.”

          flowers, no matter what kind, were a weakness to adelia. she kept them around her always. her grandmother had a large garden and they cared for it often. but apart from the fond memory they were absolutely stunning, independent creatures of nature. they held so much truth and beauty. phillip handing them out to her might not have been much to him, but she took them with a grin.   “ oh, my dear, these are lovely. thank you so much. i shall put them in a vase. far, far away from you. “   she took them off his hands and set them at a distance, a hand reaching towards him.   “ why have them in the first place, love ?   goodness, your nose is nearly a faucet. “    she pulled a handkerchief from her purse--- because the only woman on earth still with a handkerchief was adelia. she barely even used it.   “ here, “

[adclias-blog]

hawthorncs:

Noah hasn’t been in town for long. He’s had a place rented out since two weeks back, and he was meant to arrive sooner, but complications had arisen, and so here he is. He’s all but fresh off the plane, restless with pent-up energy he knows isn’t likely to be satiated in a place like this, but surprisingly pulled together despite his long journey from London. The tawny leather jacket pulled over his shoulders keeps him warm, hiding his braces away beneath it, and his jeans are new, something not typically seen with him despite the fact he can very obviously afford it. Designer labels on old clothes make them vintage, right? Or maybe they just mean he doesn’t care. Regardless, what he’s wearing isn’t the only ‘vintage’ thing he’s looking at today, and as he passes by the front window of an antique shop, he finds himself giving pause. He’s always been attracted to places like that, not really a shocker considering his infatuation with history as a whole, with _old_ things as a whole. His decision to go inside was already made.

The scent of dust and sweet things assaults his senses to go along with the wave of heat as lets himself inside. There’s a bell above the door that jingles merrily with his presence, likely alerting the shop owner, wherever they happen to be, of his arrival. He might have just arrived, but he isn’t entirely new to town either, and he’s pretty sure he didn’t see this place the last time he was around. It’s kind of weird, but it reminds him of someone he knows, the way things are arranged, chosen, displayed with familiarity that doesn’t make sense, but somehow does at the same time. He’s reaching up to push his glasses further back on his nose, his footsteps quiet on the floorboards as he makes his way around an old piece, and that’s when he notices her. Before she speaks, before he even knows it’s her he’s noticing, his head turns, and the wind is knocked out of him a little. Just a little.

Adelia looks… Well, quite the same as she always does, which isn’t to say that it’s any less overwhelming this time around than it ever has been. They’ve known each other for about ten years now, give or take, and he thinks this is the first time they’ve ever met anywhere that wasn’t a ridiculously expensive hotel, a ballroom, something grandeur and framing her in a light that seemed to perfectly coincide with the way she presented at the time. Now Noah realises that, perhaps despite his thoughts, it wasn’t perfect. Where she stands now? That’s perfect.

“I should’ve expected this.” He doesn’t say it unkindly, looking down at her from his height vantage, the heels still not quite reaching where he stands. He’s always been freakishly tall. “We were about due time with it, weren’t we?” It’s been years. Actual years, and it still feels the same as it has every other time. The change of scenery hasn’t altered that any, and there’s a little smile at the corners of his mouth, dark eyes lingering on her features.

             books had an obvious influence on adelia’s life. she took stories and applied them to life, and vice versa. while she detested nicholas sparks and his shallow form of story telling, the substance he writes about, tends to be a theme she finds in other, more well written stories. the dramatics of romance an star crossed lovers. leaping bounds to reach one another. the idea of love was intoxicating and she got drunk off of it. however, true love was lost on her in the literal sense. she has had declarations of love, some as poetic and memorable as the scenes described in her novels. one that has swept her heart across oceans, but they never stayed. love was fleeting on her. love did not last. but it was art. and before her stood the oldest story in the book. one without leaps or bounds. with satin painted lips and silken ball gowns. glasses of champagne and quips soon lost to the stars. heavy hands and knowing eyes. morning dust and loving goodbyes. a means to part way. an old friend. perhaps something more. perhaps something less.

nothing could change the fact that noah looked dashing. even in mid afternoon with pale sunlight pouring through her windows, curtains blowing and music playing around her, he was still captivating. he wore that tweed jacket, as per always, and just like many times before, she wanted to reach out and touch the beautiful fabric used. it soaked of heavenly old and he should know nothing makes her more weak than looking like a man of history. maybe that’s why they fit. he was of history, and she was of the past.

adelia gazes down at her wrist, where her 1950 movado watch ticked in time. she smiled warmly, looking up again.   “ i believe so. and just in the nick of time. you are so good at that. “   and as adelia had no boundaries, no limitations to the world’s unspoken rules of what no to do, she reached up to touch him. like a dream where she might fade in a moment. her smile looked of roses and her fingers along his cheek with delicacy. it had been years. to say she missed him would be absolutely true. she was fond of his company.   “ heaven knows the world has tied us together. “   she says softly, not exactly with the intent of being deep and renowned, but it was simply her means of speaking. but her hand pulled away, hands clasping together.   “ we must celebrate. once again you and i are joined and we shall not make light of this. “   she broke into a grin, turning onto her heel to walk deeper into the store, leaving a trail of her perfume behind.   “ come !  there is never not a good time for champagne, mister hawthorn ! “   around the corner into a realm he has yet to travel. in a world he hasn’t totally be in. the cluttered yet stunning mess of her shop, the true simplicity of her day-to-day life. adelia still had champagne, it was mandatory in every space she spent large amounts of time in. and in an antique shop, there were plenty of options for glasses. 

[adclias-blog]

            no matter where she is, the store always smells of freshly baked treats, and wizened dust. it reminds her of her grandmother, and her fingertips brush over dressers and jewelry boxes. she was adorned in in a dusted pink blouse, and a black pencil skirt that would not outshine the intricate details of the vintage wear. her heels clicked against the wooden floors. and through the walls played a beautiful ballad sang by her true lover from another life, frank sinatra. humming to herself, she had grabbed a vase of flowers, moving it from one table to the other where she could adjust the arrangement, and take out the ones looking to wither soon. they always had to be fresh and lively. things wilt over time but that didn’t mean she couldn’t take them out before they grew ugly. and wasn’t that a metaphor for her entire life ?   well, she didn’t have the ears to listen to that truth.

wilson had been treating her fair in the months since being here. a quiet town of little substance. those could be nice, especially since coming from florida in her previous spot. everyone here was moderately sane. they treated her with respect and she was able to have lovely conversations with them as they passed through. and anyone willing to indulge in their love for the old was a friend of her’s.

the breeze from the open door of her shop kicking in to the back of her exposed calves, and a sharp shiver ran up her spine. she wasn’t a typically cold person, but the shiver ran all the way up to the hairs on the back of her neck. a sign that maybe it wasn’t simply the wind. the body has good intuition as she says. so she places the vase down on the table, and walks around the corner with her hands running on her things to wipe the dust from the stems off. sure enough, the shiver wasn’t for naught, and her bambi eyes widened.   “ oh, what a treat. “   her lips curled into a small smile, faded like the way her antiques looked.   “ noah, darling. “   she sang, stepping forward to her old friend. the world always granted her this gift now and then.

@hawthorncs // closed starter !!

[adclias-blog]

OHHH BOYYY HERE’S MY NEW BABE ~ !

surprise !!! taking on more than i can chew but what’s new lmao. this is adelia who is a ninety year old cougar trapped in a thirty-three year old’s body. anyways, here’s a little bit about it.

She owns Ruby’s Vintage, which is a vintage/antique store in wilson that opened up about six months ago. she’s been in town for eight. she’s a drifter, she opens shop wherever she goes. she comes from old money. basically a collector of old, and old soul, and in able to hold long lasting relationships of deep substance. 

anyways, like this, i’ll hit u up so we can plot. she’s vvv unique...

[adclias-blog]

paine-logan:

“how can you tell if a girl likes you?” logan inquired, embarrassed that he was even asking such a question. he’d thought everything had been going well with this girl he’d been seeing for a few weeks, but she seemed so off when he went over to her house the other night. “i don’t understand women,” he added with a huff.

         pink painted lips were pressed into a soft line, looking at the young man.   “ you must not have much experience with women, huh ? “   she adjusts one leg over the other, hands folding together.   “ this is not high school, darling. women are only puzzles if you desire them to be. my greatest trick ? “   she leans forward, her tone lowering to a whisper.   “ just ask. it will save you a world of trouble. “

[adclias-blog]

bcbbybee:

the party had been a mistake. getting tipsy in a room full of strangers had only been worse. it’s extremely out of character for her, but changes in circumstances, going off track, aren’t things she’s very capable of handling on the spot. she’d already been so busy trying to process the sad ache in her chest that she’d gone with the flow of it all. just allowed herself to be pushed along with no obvious destination in mind – like a zombie, except her mind was working a mile a minute in private. somewhere that even the loud music hadn’t been able to reach her. one drink in and she was already tipsy. by the third drink, it was a miracle she had any control over her body at all. the kissing hadn’t been too bad. she enjoys affection when she’s comfortable, and if anything was going to lure her into a false sense of security, it’d be intoxication. any progression from there had been too much for her, and though she’d put a stop to it and come out of the whole situation physically unscathed (the partner to her drunken fumbles had been kind enough to walk her home), she’s still emotionally shaken two days later. 

yesterday had been reserved for nursing her hangover, and today she’s finally ventured out of her home, head down as she sits in the corner of a familiar cafe and prays to be invisible as she cradles her hot mug of coffee. apparently her luck ran out long ago, since the screech of chair legs against floor has her flinching, looking up in time to watch someone join her at the table. 

“um… u-uh, h-hi.” 

             a woman of such enchanting proportions such as adelia wouldn’t be one to bother herself with parties of the modern youth. but color the woman curious, and quite taken by the younger generation. typically the saw her as a being on another level as them, something she couldn’t deny made her feel good. but ultimately, through wandering hands and eager lips, she was an observer. and she saw many things at the party she went to just a couple nights ago. memories which were clear as day, as she tends not to drink herself into a stupor. no, instead, she watched, and in her interest, she saw a small individual who looked not like they belonged. an outsider. someone still cradling drinks in her petite hands and looking rather lost. the maternal side of adelia moved to her like a graceful goddess. they chatted. eventually they had to part their own ways but adelia kept an eye to make sure the new acquaintance would be okay.

and imagine that, as the world lives and breaths, it pulls people back together. something adelia was quite familiar with. the forces of the world worked wonders. star-crossed lovers were no fiction in the eyes of her.    she took a seat, removing her 1962 dior sunglasses and set them on the table. her hands moved like they were performing magic tricks. a distraction.    “ my dear, so lovely to run into you. “   she gives a radiating smile, folding her hands on the table.   “ i saw you just as i was coming in and thought i’d check to make sure you were doing alright. someone as small as you must take it rather hard when drinking. “

[adclias-blog]

Lana Del Rey performing ‘Terrence Loves You’ on BBC Radio 1 in London

[adclias-blog]

Carey Mulligan photographed for Harper’s Bazaar (2013)

[adclias-blog]

TAG DUMP ~ !