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Hey y’all! I think I will end up dropping Shane since I’m having a lot more fun writing and developing @.tillatlast, so if you’re interested in interacting with a Greek mythos Atlas with my own lore into him, meet me there!

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Hey y’all! I think I will end up dropping Shane since I’m having a lot more fun writing and developing @.tillatlast, so if you’re interested in interacting with a Greek mythos Atlas with my own lore into him, meet me there!

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❝     YOU DREAMT OF BEING A RULER OF THE SEVEN SKIES AND SEAS, LIKE YOUR GREATEST UNCLE WHO HAD MADE THE W O R L D EVOLVED IN GLORIOUS G O L D. WITH DETERMINATION EVER BURNING IN YOU, YOU COULD BE, BUT INSTEAD, FOR YOUR S I N S THAT WERE MADE OUT OF DEAD MESSIAHS’ DREAMS, YOU STAND S H A K I N G BETWEEN THE EMPYREAN AND ABYSS, YOUR SHOULDERS BEARING  C O U N T L E S S  O F  S T A R S. OH, HOW YOU ENVY THE P O E T S FOR WORSHIPPING THE STARS BECAUSE UNLIKE HOW THEY ARE DEPICTED IN INKS AND BLOOD AND TEARS, YOU QUICKLY LEARN THAT THERE IS NOTHING HOLY ABOUT THEM WHEN THEY ONLY STARVE FOR LIGHTS.     ❞     *     𝐀 𝑮𝑹𝑬𝑬𝑲 𝑴𝒀𝑻𝑯𝑶𝑳𝑶𝑮𝒀 𝑨𝑻𝑳𝑨𝑺 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄      /      𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 © 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅

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I am,,, finally,,,,,, almost done with setting everything up for Atlas’ blog,,,,,,,,,

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𝐎𝐇!! when i was younger!! you told me i should 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐓 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑!! you said “life is a painting,” but ALL YOUR COLORS ALWAYS BLEED TOGETHER!! but you said “look for your sunshine” it’s 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄. i told myself that i 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄. i found some new innovations. 𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. but people can DREAM. ——— a fandomless, previously headless hunter by sunny.

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CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT WHEN YOU WANT IF YOU WANT. & YOU CAN CALL ME NAMES IF YOU CALL ME UP.

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Honey I’m Home | GHOST feat. DEX

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Over there

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If a writer falls in love with you, you can never die.

(via coffeeandadvice)

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me: hmmm…… … .. .i’m feeling…. Impulsive,,

literally everyone in my life: i hear u and i sympathize but whatever you’re thinking about doing please consider the consequences before–

me:

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I have a scenario that is constantly plaguing my mind when Shane was a bit more younger and naive, getting the hang of his time travelling ability, he had a massive crush on his best friend, and he really wanted to know what their face look like, so when he told them to close their eyes as he had a surprise gift for him, his best friend teased him by opening theirs eyes a bit and—

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An extremely important note to keep in mind about Shane is the fact that he refuses to look at people’s face. No matter who they are, he can and not will do that— even if they are the people who he loves so dearly. Although he can look at photos, drawings, etcetera of them and see their faces, as these things were done and made as tangible memories, he can still have himself be sent into their past, but only in that particular memory that the photo or such was done. It’d still not make a very pleasant experience for him because of how much forced time travelling would affect him physically and mentally, so he avoids looking at people’s faces regardless of anything. He can wish to see their faces for as many as he like, but he will never bring himself to do that.

If he does happen to look at a person’s face, accidentally for most cases, and they catch his gaze, he will see their past and / or future, the former from their left eye and latter from their right. It is uncommon for him to see either of them, though this usually happens if he sees them only by the side of a person’s face or, quite unfortunately, the person forces him to see their future for their own advantages, which he thinks it’s the worst thing anyone can ever done to him. When these memories and / or visions are played out in front of him, they don’t go by like a flash you’d see in media shows and films. They are real timed, so while in the person's perspective Shane leaves his paralyzed state after a minute, in his own, he will have to experience them in the exact timing as the person did / will, having to be with them from their birth to death, if not some aspects at least.

The worst thing about it is he can only watch the memories / visions happening around him.

Though how he sees one’s past and future when forced is completely different from how a regular person would see them. In the past, Shane doesn’t see any colours but monochrome and can’t hear much, though the further he is in someone’s past, he’d be unable to see or hear anything. It’s usually when the person is a year old, he can start to see blobs and hear a few words at least. In the past, everything would feel so dull and dead. In the future, however, everything he sees gets drastically shot up with brighter and sharper tones, as if the saturation went to a hundred percent. For the noise level, it’d be 120–129 decibels, which usually occurs from sports crowds, rock concerts, loud symphonies, etcetera.

He’s like a spirit who can’t interact with anyone and anything in the past and future, and he has a certain limited space for him to go, depending on where the person is. If they’re in the room, he can’t leave the room. If they’re at a park, he can only remain in the park. If they’re at a restaurant, he needs to be in the areas where he can see them. He’s like a spirit who’s haunting after the person. It’s amusing to think how he’d have a bunch of random stuff in his many pockets and when he takes them out like a cartoon character, but while he will say he likes to be entertained and keep himself busy when asked why he always brings so many random stuff with him, but if you know the exact, real reason, that being for him to entertain himself when being in someone’s past and / or future so he wouldn’t end up losing his sanity, it’s actually depressing. So he’ll try to play his mini Rubik’s Cube while the person have their breakfast or try to listen to music on his iPhone and daydream as the person makes out with someone else.

Though, when facing someone’s future, he can’t really use them when everything in colours and sounds are at their highest and they make him feel like he’s going to melt and implode.

During the aftermath, when he can finally die with the person and be brought to the present, he will fall to the surface. That is the first thing that will always happen. With his eyes closed, his curled up body will start to shake violently and his hands will try to cover over his ears. Sometimes, he will have trouble breathing and start choking. He will not speak at all, and he will scream if someone tries to touch him or talk to him. He will have a breakdown, and there will be some cases when he hits his head with his fists or bangs his head on the surface because everything is so much— too much for him to take and he wants OUT. He will usually have to pass out in order for the aftermath to end, and when he wakes up, he won’t speak still and just remain in bed, his expression blank, yet his eyes are always covered with tears. When he had to be spoon fed and reminded that he’s okay, he will eventually find himself to whisper at least, constantly stuttering and pausing, but for a while, he can only say:

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

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I’m writing a hella angsty but important study note for Shane about why he can’t allow himself or anyone to make him look at people in the face because it’d force him to be in their past and future, and, oh my gosh, I’m really close to crying over here...

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Some wacky things that Shane did that I Definitely didn’t do

Did a presentation assignment about himself and accidently came out to his whole grade twelve religion class because he got anxious and words were just thrown out of him without his control.

Under the same day, he realized his pants were unzipped throughout his whole presentation as he forgot to zip it after using the washroom.

Took out his braces with a tweezer and nail clip because fuck the price of having to spend at least five hundred dollars JUST to get rid of them.

For the longest time, he had thought angst was pronounced as “angus”.

Ate all of the rainbow chips from his kindergarten best friend’s Rice Krispie during snack time when said best friend wasn’t around and then didn’t say anything and kept eating his own snack when his best friend asked who ate the rainbow chips.

Tried to enter a place while the door was closing after its activation push button was used because he thought he’d be faster than a dumb door. Then he slammed himself into the side of the door because the space between him got too small before he could enter in time and got a big bruise on his face.

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Hopefully, I can finally get Atlas’ blog up and at it today...

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@wtrss had clicked a ♡ for a muse portrait done by Shane ! ( the portrait )

As the usual, I entered Paige’s bar, and offered her and her bartender, John, a delighted greeting with my random order of the day, dumb dad jokes and laughters and comments were thrown across the air— it was a lovely day. However, what was unusual was the fact I had a sketchbook with me. I kept it on my lap this whole time, so Paige probably didn’t notice it. Maybe she did and kept it quiet because she thought my book would be full of puns for me to torture her with later and didn’t want to find out for herself. I didn’t mind. Certainly not when I was planning to give Paige my drawing of her. I started sketching, starting with the body, when she focused on the other waiting customers. I drew, and drew, and thought.

There are many stains on Paige, the hidden things that can never be taken away, even with holy water. As a waitress working at a bar, while she may be full of memories, she is, too, covered with memories. The coldness would wrap her hand as she would hold a full glass that was ordered, guiding her to a potential interaction with someone before her. A potential opportunity to have herself be reminded on why she deserves to live still, despite everything— anything. She would bump into someone by accident, may it be someone so familiar, like John, to a complete stranger who would visit the bar just once; in the end, when her eyes are shut at the sudden contact, pain brushes her skin, telling her to wake up.

She would open her eyes and move forward.

Even with all of the living and the dead holding down her soul.

I like her. Wherever she goes, she carries the kind of strength I can find in stories and songs; it is inspiring, beautiful, really. Even when I notice how she shakes just at the slightest because she doesn’t like something or someone, by how her voice can sometimes spill a merciless storm in a snap of fingers, or how she barely leaves her gaze from a source of negativity, I can imagine that the lights in her eyes will only appear brighter. I warn anyone to not mistake her lights belonging to a fire when they are claimed by the stars. Though the stars are quite magnificent, they do fall into supernovas, like her emotions and thoughts. It only takes time. These stars are not gentle as they may appear in the distance, and neither is she, even with her lovely smiles and the fact that her laughters can create happily ever afters.

I glanced away every time I thought Paige had noticed my stare, which happened often, even if in reality, she would only look at me just a few times. I had to be cautious though; it would be beyond terrible for me if her gaze caught mine. But I do sometimes wish I could see her face, and when I would make a wish like that, even more than once or twice, it means that I trust her. I trust Paige.1 So, while I had drawn her blonde hair and clothing well, her face... I sighed and filled her face with lead, leaving many small white gaps as the stars. I stared at the portrait, the strange touch I placed in Paige’s face. I just stared until a hand landed on my shoulder.

I didn’t look over to see who it was, but I figured it was Paige.

“Uh.” I shuffled in my seat, my fingers already busy with fiddling the cord of my microphone. Where to even start, I thought helplessly to myself. “I was planning to give... that to you, actually.” I gestured over to the paper in front of me with my head before I glanced at it. With Paige right beside me now, I became a lot more aware than before that it had her drawn out of messy dots and lines with the area behind her in shades of gray, her face holding a galaxy. The portrait did appear out of place, but I never once had a clear perception on life; everything and everyone have always looked a bit strange to me. I don’t know how to describe this strangeness, but... It just feels like I don’t belong here.

Nevertheless I smiled— well, tried to at least.

It had been a long time since I had drawn something for someone.

”I hope you like - like this, heh, Paige of delight.”

Paige. Page. Paige. I sheepishly chuckled at the awful pun. I couldn’t help myself, but hey, anything to make Paige happy.

1. She’s my friend, and I hope she knows that I’m her friend too.

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Inspired by a part of a conversation I had with Viv, either we have interacted or not yet, give this a like if you’re interested in a writing of Shane drawing your muse ( aka me being ferally poetic on main as to gush about your muse )! Don’t know how long these will be, but either you wish to reply to it or not is up to you! Though every muses will have the same sad twist to their portraits because of his curse, so… Expect a sense of angst to the writings!