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i have nooooo motivation :((
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feel free to change things ( such as pronouns ) as needed ! music link
G U E S T R O O M
“ i’m better off on my own ” “ i wish i never let you sleep in my bed ” “ i’ll never get over you ” “ i’m pretty sure that all of this was my fault ” “ you know how to make me feel all alone ” “ just fucking find another way to heal ” “ i’m sick of feeling so betrayed ” “ i thought i’d mean something to you ”
S A I N T S
“ your story isn’t adding up ” “ your religion is a lie ” “ why don’t you throw me to the wolves ? ” “ you’re not so innocent ” “ you’re standing here like an angry god ” “ you’re no saint , you’re no savior ” “ you only follow rules if others follow with you ” “ that doesn’t sound so holy , only playing victim ” “ keep your judgement for someone else ” “ i’ve had enough ”
1 2 1 6
“ welcome to the room i hide in ” “ i’d invite you in but i’m trying to get out of here ” “ the windows know my pain , they feel it ” “ get out of here ” “ you’re still ringing gin my empty head ” “ i can’t let go of you ” “ i don’t know why i can never leave ” “ all that i’m left with are memories ” “ i guess i want your ghost as my company ”
R E V I V A L
“ i’m afraid that i’ve gone vacant ” “ i don’t have time for your equations ” “ i swear i’ll try to save this ” “ i start to despise myself ” “ you say i put you through hell ” “ you never knew if you could feel the way that i do ” “ we aren’t gonna make it ” “ we’ve both been changing ” “ maybe we should find ourselves ”
V A C A N T
“ i’ve been waiting for you to get your mind right ” “ you’ve been running from yourself for a while ” “ you think that if you burn down you’ll be fine ” “ maybe i’d forget all the times you lied ” “ i hope that you choke on your vacant teeth ” “ i know that you’re empty ” “ you don’t even look the same with your brand new eyes ” “ you drained the light out of yourself and now you can’t see ”
E U P H O R I A
“ you talk a lot of shit for somebody who’s sorry now ” “ i’m a habit that you miss ” “ this is everything i wanna say , but can’t say yet ” “ you’re looking for someone to blame ” “ i gave you all my blood ” “ i’m still waiting for your love ” “ thanks for calling me on my birthday to say i was wrong ” “ i hope you swallow me ”
G R A V E S
“ every time i see you i light up inside ” “ truth is casting shadows all over me ” “ you walk through your house like a ghost ” “ i hope you lie in your bed thinking of me ” “ there’s a hole inside my chest you can’t see ” “ my heads a burial ground of your memory ” “ you can take whats left with you ” “ i can’t keep holding on ”
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ohisms:
𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐗𝐈𝐀
; 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔 . ( a series of kiss prompts . some nsfw material present . )
❛ 01 . a kiss to say hello . ❛ 02 . a kiss for the first time . ❛ 03 . a kiss after a long time apart . ❛ 04 . a kiss to apologize . ❛ 05 . a kiss to forgive . ❛ 06 . a kiss during a fight . ❛ 07 . a kiss to say what you can’t say aloud . ❛ 08 . a kiss in secret / a forbidden kiss . ❛ 09 . a kiss to prove a point . ❛ 10 . a kiss against a wall . ❛ 11 . a kiss on a rooftop . ❛ 12 . a kiss that seals a marriage . ❛ 13 . a kiss before one goes away . ❛ 14 . a kiss in the shower . ❛ 15 . a kiss that comes out of nowhere . ❛ 16 . a kiss first thing in the morning . ❛ 17 . a kiss last thing at night . ❛ 18 . a kiss during combat . ❛ 19 . a kiss during a fake relationship . ❛ 20 . a kiss out of desperation . ❛ 21 . a kiss on the cheek . ❛ 22 . a kiss on the forehead . ❛ 23 . a kiss on the back of the hand . ❛ 24 . a kiss on the neck . ❛ 25 . a kiss on the fingertips . ❛ 26 . a kiss on the stomach . ❛ 27 . a kiss to end the sexual tension . ❛ 28 . a kiss over a scar . ❛ 29 . a kiss over a wound . ❛ 30 . a kiss to say goodbye .
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𝙴. 𝚆𝙸𝙻𝙻𝙸𝙰𝙼𝚂:
they’ve been growing close, which is… about as much as she’s willing to explain. there are scribbles, heavy little drawings in the back of her journal that have morphed from studies of the cat (pun intended) to the tattoo that’d been ripped out of the back and sits on the desk between them. (there are other scribbles in there that she guards with her life - sat next to the blade that’s starting to gnaw a chunk outta the side table, and under strict do not fuck with my shit, especially you joel, i’ve seen you looking order. yeah. there are scribbles. if anyone asks, there aren’t, but she turns over every conversation in her brain near enough every night and tries to figure out what it means. babe. what the fuck does that one mean?)
“i don’t know. should i?” cat is… just being cat. but ellie flexes her fingers and clears her throat because cat purrs in her ear (pun intended) and calls her babe and… holy shit, basically. (she doesn’t like looking at it much. it reminds her of riley. of tess. of - anyone and everyone she’s lost along the way. there’s a tinge of pink that still crowns the flared flesh, but this is as healed as she figures it’s going to get. fuck this virus.)
“gimme one good reason to and we’ll see, ‘cause y’know… jury’s still out on it.” she does. it’s inherent. her trust eases the tips of her fingers against cat’s and her forearm lain flat against the wood. with cat, she is nothing but cool. everything is just - cool. she finds herself staring more often than not, and when jesse drags her off for something a lot less enchanting like laundry duty, she resists the urge to kick him in the shin.
BABE. THAT WAS RISKY, BUT IT SEEMED THERE was no immediate adverse reaction to the flirtatious endearment which was good, but there also wasn’t much of a reaction at all. it felt as if they had been playing this game for ages, cat likes to think she makes her attraction to the other girl quite obvious; with the subtle touches and the way she looks at her, but just when it seems like ellie might be catching on they revert to the same old friendly interactions. she couldn’t really be this clueless, right? because the alternative is that she is simply not interested.
a single brow raises, and since both hands are currently occupied, one holding the neelde and the other holding ellie’s, she instead uses her head to gesture down at herself. ❝ sorry, did i forget to show you my portfolio? ❞ only a few patches of unmarked skin can be seen between the various pieces of art etched in black ink upon her left arm, her body is a collection of an almost lost artform, as if that wasn’t enough proof that she had at least some idea what she was doing. but she knows ellie is just fucking with her, and she likes it.
❝ have a little faith, el. ❞ she’s smiling and it bleeds into her tone, she thinks she might be looking at her a little to long so she soon busies herself with dipping the sharp point of the repurposed sewing needle into the pot of ink at hand.
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If it would kill you to lose me…I can kill you.
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𝙼. 𝙲𝙰𝚄𝙻𝙵𝙸𝙴𝙻𝙳.
untitled
“Later, fuckers! Max, you rock – we are so fucking awesome!”
Adrenaline coursing through her veins, Max all but bounces in her seat excitedly. She feels on top of the world – something she hasn’t felt in so long. Five years, to be exact.
Chloe just has that effect on her, it seems. She brings out both the best and the worst of her – her inner bad girl, but also her inner badass. With Chloe at her side and time in the palm of her hand, she feels invincible.
Well, at least until Friday… if that storm comes.
That’s the furthest thing from Max’s mind now, though. All she can think about is how fucking awesome they both are, the feeling in the pit of her stomach, and how much she wants a repeat of the big hug she gave Chloe back at the pool when they successfully managed to escape from Blackwell security the first time.
She reaches for the ancient radio on the truck’s console and switches it on. If there was ever a moment that warranted a soundtrack, it’s this one – it feels like a scene out of a movie.
@rcadia
TYRES SQUEAL AND THERE IS UNDOUBTEDLY a fresh set of black marks left upon the asphalt of the blackwell academy parking lot. it’s good to know that even for an old junker, the punk’s truck still makes an adequate getaway vehicle. she’ll have to remember that for when they'll inevatably further vandalise arcadia bay, but for now they speed down the empty streets of a sleepy town, en route back to chloe’s house to hide out.
❝ seriously max, that was so badass! we totally ninja’d our way past sergent shithead back there. a clean getaway ❞
she’s grinning, gaze mostly focused on the road ahead, though she does dare to glance sideways at her partner in time beside her. was this even really max caulfield? she can’t imagine that the girl she’d known years ago would agree to be an accomplice to breaking and entering, and yet here they were.
as max reaches over to turn on the radio chloe follows suit and twists the small dial, blasting music as they cruise on, cool spring air filling the truck’s cab through open windows. she turns the music all the way down as they pull into the driveway of the price house, cautious to not wake joyce or any nosy neighbours.
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𝙴. 𝚆𝙸𝙻𝙻𝙸𝙰𝙼𝚂:
@rcadia.
it’s not an easy thing to hide. joel ushered her into a room that smelt like sawdust and rot and told her they were gonna fix it, but it throbbed for weeks. went yellow. went red. went an angry shade of purple that prompted a soft hmm from maria in the couple days to follow, but ultimately, it ended up as a rough bubble of skin that only sometimes looked like a gnarly bear bite. (huh. don’tcha wish it was something as simple as that?)
they’ve been talking about it for a while. cat talks, ellie stares at her in this weird heart-full kind of way that she’s still trying to figure out, but man, she’s cool. the ink that covers what must be at least a quarter of her body by now (that might be an exaggeration, but holy shit, ellie’s a little too mesmerised to take that logical step), well that’s - pretty cool too.
“you better have a steady hand. it’s already fucked up enough.”
her arm’s laid out on the nearest table, and cat’s already close enough that it’s the only thing ellie really looks at. her eyes. no - mouth. no - cheek. no - gah, this is stupid. fucking nerd. she settles back in the chair and totally avoids looking in any kind of direction that may or may not be hers.
“i’m warning you. i’ll fuck you up if you fuck me up.”
TOO MANY TIMES SHE’D WORN LONG SLEEVES IN SUMMER. an ugly scar hidden at all costs, cat was one of the lucky few with whom the girl had shown the marred skin of her forearm to, and she doesn’t hold that sentiment lightly. sitting on the back porch under the summer night’s sky, ellie plucks at the strings of a beloved guitar and she voices the thought aloud as it comes to her. i could cover it for you, y’know?
it had been quite a while between that night and this one, where they sit at a small desk in cat’s bedroom; its surface worn and thoroughly stained with black ink. it was a process; they’d sat for hours together over many nights both scribbling away in sketchbooks, eager to conjure something worthy of permanance upon the girl’s skin. cat had came up with the ferns, ellie suggested the moth. now they sit closer than is probably necessary for the task, and she is already dipping the end of a pencil strapped needle into a pot of jet. ❝ i’ll fuck you up just for doubting my expert skills. ❞
she smirks, guiding her free hand to ellie’s palm up on the table, to keep the arm steady of course --- among other reasons. she’s avoiding her gaze but cat makes a point to catch it. ❝ don’t you trust me, babe? ❞
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Segovia Amil
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Hey, hey fellow multi-muse blogs !!
Never, ever apologize for 1,2 or 3 of your muses being the most dominant and forerunners of your blog! Yes, you may add more from other series’ that don’t relate, and initially that’s why some people follow you…for the “less-awake” batch, but at the end of the day, the muse/s that are loudest are your mains, and if people take issue with that, they can scoot. It’s not your job to “force” the other ones out for their benefit. And there are times where different muses become the leaders, and others become the low-levels. That’s normal in rpc!! This is NO different from single muse blogs that make several blogs, but only play on a couple of them while leaving the others in random hiatuses, indefinitely. Do NOT fall into the guilt trap. Everyone has muses that get more shine than others whether they are multi or single.
This is about writing what makes YOU feel good and riding your inspiration out for all it’s worth!! Take advantage of the times when certain muses are hardcore strong!! YOU GO! If your partners actually care, they will take notice of your strongest ones and be flexible. If not? There’s plenty other rp’ers out there that they can go to. Never let anyone make you feel like crap for not playing/shipping the muses THEY want.
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THE NIGHT IS ALIVE WITH MERRYMENT AND CHEER, the typical winter night’s chill fended off with strong drinks and dance as, what might as well have been the whole settlement, was crammed within the event hall, decked out with dangling lights and decorations just for tonight. over the constant drone of chatter there’s a the upbeat strum of banjo strings which people of all ages flock to the hall’s centre to dance to. she’s standing against the wall, taking long sips of whatever it was handed to her, someone is talking to her, or at her rather, and though she’s obviously looked interested enough for them to continue this one sided conversation she’s a million miles away.
gaze wonders around the busy hall until it catches a glimpse of maria standing by the door. she recongises who she’s talking too, though she can’t say she’s familiar with them, gathered just enough about the girl to be surprised that she showed up to one of these shindigs. though by the looks of things she didn’t have much choice with the way she’s looking at maria. very little is known about abby, other than she keeps to herself and has been through a lot. maybe cat is tipsy enough to think that her company would make things a little less miserable.
she watches briefly as the blonde makes a break for the quietest, emptiest corner and stops by the makeshift bar before heading over herself. she doesn’t ask before she sits next to abby, instead simply holding out a small glass of amber liquid with a smile. ❝ y’ look like you could use a drink. ❞ / @coincount
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PLOTTING CALL ! mutuals like this for me to hop into your dms and scream about writing with you
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???:
relax. right. sean bobs his head, making subtle work of nudging the sketchbook out of view. she seems…nice. like someone who isn’t about to jump him for acting like a stalker, at least. his shoulders deflate as the built-up tension starts to bleed from his body.
“ so…you…play the guitar ? ” sean regrets the words as soon as they tumble out of his mouth. no fucking shit she plays guitar, sherlock. “ that’s cool. i always wanted to learn, but i’m kinda tone deaf, so…won’t be auditioning for the voice any time soon. ”
GAZE FLICKERS FROM THE BOY TO THE INSTRUMENT and back again, nodding in obvious confirmation to his question while giving steel strings a loose strum. ❝ y’ got me, i do play the guitar. ❞ the drifter chuckles, it was kind of adorable how awkward this dude was. to be honest she was expecting him to tuck tail and run, especially after calling him out for staring like that, still, she’s not opposed to the company. ❝ it ain’t that hard, jus’ takes a bitta practice is all. y’know all those reality shows are fake right? ❞
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???:
the speed at which sean’s sketchbook snaps shut could rival his best track times.
“ no ! n-no, i was just…” he scratches his jaw, frantically racking his brain for a plausible excuse. was just…? admiring your guitar ? wondering what brand of hair dye you use ? there’s no un-lame, completely nonpredatory way to say ‘i thought you looked cool and i wanted to try sketching you,’ so sean settles on an apology: “sorry. i, uh…got lost in thought. ”
A SLY SMIRK FINDS ITS WAY CURLING TO THE edge of the chapped lips, she didn’t think that this kid’s eyes could get any wider if he tried, not without poppin’ out of his head at least. real deer in the headlights. so guilty looking that the word busted may as well have been sharpied on his forehead, a peel of laughter cant help but escape as the guitar is adjusted on her lap, looking up at the stranger from her milkcarton throne on the side of the seattle streets.
❝ musta’ been pretty lost then. ❞ cue the appearance of a gap-toothed grin ❝ y’ can relax. i’d stare too, y’know? ❞
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Couldn’t pass up on the pose
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❝ y’got a starin’ problem or somthin’? ❞
calloused fingertips barely hover over the steel strings of a weathered guitar, a melody playing within the hidden mechanism of the girl’s head as she’d been about to translate the tune into a soulfull lull of chords, though the heavy stare upon herself was feeling more and more like being an ant under a magnifying glass on a hot day. head lifts to face her unwarranted audience, a single brow hiked up in defiance.
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