#✧┆tasks ( 003 ).

[kretina]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧, 𝔱𝔞𝔰𝔨 𝔦𝔦𝔦.

(...) rescue me from the demons in my mind. whatever you do, don't ever play my game, too many years being the king of pain; you gotta lose it all if you wanna take control.

trigger warning: o texto abaixo contém menção a assassinato, estupro e morte por fogo.

a adrenalina percorrendo a corrente sanguínea fora de maneira instantanea enquanto adentrava a floresta junto a sua equipe de patrulha; as correntes estavam prontas para serem usadas, todo o corpo trabalhando nas musculaturas, as tornando mais flexíveis. contudo, nenhum deles estavam esperando para o que os esperava; no início, fora como um afogamento, a neblina espessa consumindo os pulmões, liberando algo que logo mais, ela rotularia como um alucinogeno. em seguida, a dor física, todo o corpo contorcendo-se sem que saísse do lugar, até que não houvesse mais nada, até que a mente fosse como um buraco negro e flutuasse no centro, perdida entre as imagens que rondavam sua consciência, seus medos.

o cheiro que preenchia o lugar era de bolo recém assado, havia o som de uma televisão ligada mas ninguém assistia; todos estavam no centro da cozinha, as vozes abafadas enquanto circulava em torno da cena que conhecia: seu meio-irmão com uma faca em mãos, pronto para matar a própria mãe. a katrina de anos atrás sorria, divertida com tudo o que acontecia. até que a cena mudou, katrina estava embaixo de um viaduto, bebendo água de um córrego, uma pequena fogueira acesa dentro de um túnel, até que um homem se aproxima e a toca de maneira ousada e enquanto o ato repugnante acontecia, a mente desligou-se em um click, percebendo tudo o que poderia ter tido. seu pai sorrindo a entregando o diploma da faculdade, sua madrasta sorrindo e lhe fazendo um bolo em seu vigésimo aniversário, seus irmãos abraçando-a… os dígitos buscaram no chão algo que pudesse ajudá-la, um caco de vidro sendo usado para cortar a garganta do homem, o sangue deste caindo-lhe no rosto, dentro da boca… luis sorria, estavam no mundo dos sonhos mas logo ele se afastava, observava os dois corpos que katrina carregava, os dois semideuses que morreram por sua culpa. um soco lhe era dado no rosto. kitty caminhava em sua direção, os braços abertos até que hesitou, percebendo que katrina era a responsável por colocar sasha em uma situação ruim, mesmo que não fosse de propósito. outro soco, agora sangue escorria do nariz. tommaso a oferecia um cigarro, rindo alto de alguma bobagem que katrina o dizia, mas logo gritava com ela, a dizia o quão era imunda ao perceber que a amiga sentia-se bem demais diante da morte do irmão dele. lá estava, a incapacidade de ser amada, de fazer algo ruim para aqueles que se importava. os dedos das mãos foram quebrados, a dor insuportável a atingindo por quem estava com o seu carrasco. o homem que a tocava outrora, não estava sozinho; seus amigos agora faziam justiça por ele, enquanto o fogo que antes a mantinha aquecida, lhe tocava a pele. a sensação de pavor era muito maior que a dor das queimaduras. conseguia sentir a pele derretendo por debaixo da roupa, conseguia sentir cada parte do seu corpo implorando por ajuda enquanto se contorcia, consumida pelo que a deixava assustada. os olhos marejaram até que fosse o suficiente para transbordarem, o medo a abraçando enquanto a morte caminhava em sua direção, mas fora capaz de perceber a sombra de éris de longe, rindo e dizendo-lhe o quão fraca era. katrina tentou gritar, não por ajuda mas por raiva, porque não havia nada pior do que perder a única coisa que tinha: a vida.

quando os olhos abriram-se ainda estava na floresta, mas havia um grito entalado na garganta, o rosto estava molhado pelas lágrimas e todo o corpo tremia, como se uma avalanche de sentimentos que reprimia, tivesse a atingido. sentia-se suja pelo toque do homem desconhecido, sentia-se imunda por saber que um dia, todos os seus amigos a deixariam como sua família havia feito e mais ainda, sentia-se quebrada por reconhecer que toda a merda que outrora passou e ainda passaria, fora unicamente culpa sua.

a incapacidade ser amada.

personagens citados: @luisdeaguilar ; @kittybt ; @tommasopraxis

para: @silencehq

[tonibeltran]

[ 171 SYCAMORE DR, BLUE HARBOR, IL ]

Located in Oak Gardens, this four-bedroom, three-and-a-half bath home is the picture of suburban luxury. Built around five years ago, the house was designed to embody a modern farmhouse style, featuring tall, exposed ceilings, rustic wood finishes, and a carefully curated mix of clean lines and traditional touches. Equipped with the latest appliances, the home combines functionality with its open, airy aesthetic, creating a welcoming yet polished atmosphere fit for those who appreciate both space and elegance.

[ THE BELTRAN HOUSEHOLD ]

Since moving in, Antonio has made several adjustments to reflect his tastes. He hired a stager to bring a sense of warmth and personality to the neutral palette by incorporating rich greens in the kitchen, calming blues in the bedroom, and other soft hues throughout the house. Antonio also converted the basement into his personal recording studio, allowing him to compose and work from home without the need to commute — a practical touch that accommodates his profession as a lyricist and composer. One of the smaller bedrooms serves as his “rec room,” a space he’s set aside for relaxation and reading, as well as a place to unwind privately with a smoke, where his cat, Moon, isn’t allowed access. The main living area is anchored by a large, plush couch, which Antonio chose with comfort in mind, ensuring it was supportive enough for both relaxation and, well, intimate endeavors. A weekly housekeeper helps keep the expansive space tidy, and a gardener maintains the neatly manicured front lawn, allowing Antonio to focus on his work. Despite his efforts to personalize the space, the home’s grand scale often leaves him feeling lonely, an emptiness he finds difficult to shake. While he admits it might make a perfect family home for someone else in the future, he jokes that his basement conversion may pose a minor challenge to that dream.

[clementinebriar]

[ 2403 POTTS LN, APT 2A, BLUE HARBOR, IL ]

This cozy 500-square-foot studio apartment is located on the second floor of a vintage two-story building in Weaver Ridge. The unit offers an efficient layout, combining a comfortable living area with a compact kitchen. Windows allow natural light to brighten the space, while the original hardwood floors lend a touch of warmth. The building itself provides a functional fire escape and a basement laundry room, though amenities reflect the building’s age. Ideal for those who appreciate an affordable, no-frills home with urban charm, this apartment captures the unique, gritty essence of Weaver Ridge.

[ THE WOOD HOUSEHOLD ]

Clementine Wood’s studio apartment may be small and worn, but it’s unmistakably hers. Despite what the description of the apartment might say online, the place comes with its fair share of quirks: the basement laundry room is almost always out of commission, the kitchen appliances work about as often as they don’t, and the landlord is a rare sight. The bed has to be shoved up against one wall to create enough room for a modest living area, and there’s likely mold creeping somewhere in the walls. But, hey! At least there’s a functional fire escape. Inside, Clem’s apartment is a canvas in itself, a vibrant, unapologetic tribute to her love for art. The walls are spray-painted in a chaotic burst of color, covered with sketches and bits of graffiti, and behind her bed sprawls a mural of Blue Harbor’s view over Cardinal Hill. Art spills across every surface, layered over any patch of blank wall with more of her creations, as if they’re pieces of her personality on display. Plants fill the space, too — lining the windowsills, spilling over corners, and even hanging from the ceiling. The air smells fresh and earthy, with a faint hint of citrus from the lemons ripening on a tiny tree she’s somehow managed to coax into life in the kitchen. Amongst the art and greenery, she’s carved out a cozy corner for her blue budgie, Dionysus. His cage and a few perches make up a small, lively nook of the apartment, adding a touch of warmth and companionship. Clem has called this place home since she first struck out on her own at 18, and despite its faults, she’s transformed it into her sanctuary — a little slice of Weaver Ridge that’s all her own.

[traegics]

"A photograph is the pause button of life."

@ofhowlingxs @fragmcntedsouls @vilisisms @bvsyhead @bellaxgarcia

[tinatm]

▶ glee club task: week three: "homecoming" - duet with @blaineshq

[jessetm]

JESSE ST. JAMES ↪ homecoming dance outfit

[ofsupernovcs]

The Deleted Photos- Bejo Edition

Because truth be told I don't keep anything in my life for long. Not even pictures. I rather people think I'm a pretious fuck then someone who misses them. It's easier this way.

@bellaxgarcia @ofhowlingxs @traegics @badvlantex @l-chirawanwaite

[never-rpg]

For one week, beginning the day you reblog this post to your character’s blog, any anonymous questions you receive that are directed at your muse must be answered honestly. There is no time limit to when these asks must be answered, but if they were received within the one week window, then they must be honestly answered. You can do this in-character or out-of-character as long as the answer is truthful. This is an exciting way for the rest of the group to peer inside the mind of your muse and it makes for some great reflection and character development for you! 

Participation in these tasks are by no means required. They’re fun things meant to enrich your rp experience here at NEVER RPG, not stress you out. This isn’t homework. You won’t be graded. There’s no test, I swear! To participate, simply reblog this post and take not of when your week will be up!

[davxdalexander]

[castleofmuse]

O ocaso dourado imergia o estúdio de Blair, onde as melodias e movimentos entrelaçavam-se numa dança entre a tangibilidade e a quimera. Todo o dia fora devotado ao ensaio, cada nota e passo meticulosamente alinhados, até que a exaustão a acolhesse como um abraço sutil. A respiração, ritmada em consonância com o murmúrio suave da música que permeava as paredes, transformou-se em um convite sedutor ao repouso.

Na penumbra do estúdio, Blair sucumbiu ao sono, mergulhando num sonho intricado. Um vislumbre de seu passado emergiu, um esboço de memória revelando um castelo imponente e reluzente, erguido num reino de sonhos. Fotografias de sua mãe adornavam as paredes, emanando uma beleza etérea. O castelo de diamante, simultaneamente mítico e real, desvelava-se como um elo perdido entre a realidade e a fantasia. Poucos segundos após, Blair foi transportada para outro cenário onírico, na penumbra iluminada pelo suave brilho da lua, o salão do castelo de Isabella tornava-se um palco etéreo. A Rainha, Imponente e serena, erguia a flauta com graciosidade, as notas fluidas tecendo uma melodia etérea que dançava no ar. Blair, sua filha, movia-se em resposta, uma extensão da música, seus movimentos desenhando arabescos mágicos no chão polido.

O prece mágico entre mãe e filha criava um vínculo intangível, uma conexão além das palavras e dos gestos. Isabella e Blair compartilhavam risos, cada nota da flauta ecoando como uma risada celestial, enquanto a dança se desenrolava em um encontro de almas entrelaçadas. Entre risos e movimentos graciosos, a troca de olhares transcendia o tempo, e uma conversa silenciosa, mas profundamente significativa, transcorria entre elas. Entretanto, por trás do sorriso radiante de Blair e da melodia encantadora, uma sombra de tristeza sutil insinuava-se. Como um véu de névoa, a tristeza pairava no ar, envolvendo a cena em uma aura melancólica. Era como se o sonho e a realidade, em um pacto silencioso, compartilhassem o destino de uma lembrança que transcenderia o efêmero. A dança prosseguia, as notas da flauta entrelaçando-se com a movimentação grácil de Blair, enquanto a tristeza ecoava como um suspiro nostálgico, unindo passado e presente em um instante fugaz e eterno...

No instante em que o véu do sono afagava a mente de Blair, uma fada feminina, etérea e radiante, sussurrou-lhe segredos ancestrais nos recônditos do sonho. A doce melodia de suas palavras narrava que a cidade amaldiçoada outrora pertencera a um rei chamado Harol. Contudo, antes que os enigmas do passado desdobrassem-se, Blair foi abruptamente desperta do reino onírico. Ao abrir os olhos, a luminosidade do estúdio substituiu a magia do sonho. Num turbilhão de sentimentos, a bailarina viu-se dividida entre a felicidade de vislumbrar sua mãe em toda a sua beleza e a perplexidade causada pela voz da fada, ecoando em sua mente como uma ressonância da realidade. Preocupações e interrogações entrelaçaram-se, deixando Blair imersa num misto de emoções, enquanto o eco da voz misteriosa permanecia como uma promessa inquietante de verdades ainda não reveladas.

[wmuhummel]

𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 | 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝟎𝟎𝟑

Kurt is refilling his glass with something a little stronger than lemon water when he feels a presence approach and stand next to him by the refreshment table. He can tell who it is just by the whiff of grapefruit alone, and is very cautious as he turns to face the dance floor with the glass of refilled punch in his hand. He can see his date having fun with his friends across the floor, and it's nice just to watch him for a moment, which is apparently the Principle's cue to ask about why he came tonight with his said date. The question throws him for a momentary pause as he gives her a sidelong glance, the question marinating in his head for a few moments before he bothers to open his mouth and speak. "He actually asked me, not vice-versa, so I'm here because I couldn't say no and experience that kicked puppy expression he's perfected in person. I'm not a total asshole." He starts, jokingly, lightly with a forced grin towards her. Her brow lift proves she doesn't buy that for a second, and he relents, shoulders sagging. "I envy him. I want to see what the whole deal with him is. Everyone adores him, and after tonight - I get it. He's so warm, inviting, and I feel oddly safe while around him. I can't remember the last time I felt completely safe with someone, let alone experience any of this-" making a grand gesture by waving his glass wielding hand to the whole room "-as I never got to experience my prom, or any high school dance with a date. I've never been asked, and I've always felt something was missing due to it. So, of course I wouldn't say no to being asked for the first time ever. He saw me for a second, when no one else had bothered to look up and consider me an option. Because I've never been an option..." His eyes sting, and he can feel Sylvester's gaze burning holes in the side of his head even if she doesn't comment. He had expected her to sniff and drawl about the sappy or sad nature of it all, but instead he feels the napkin being passed over in silence that he accepts and dabs at his eyes hurriedly. "He's out of my league when it comes to seeing the world half full, so I don't intend to drag him down to my depths with me. But tonight? Tonight I'm going to enjoy his company, and let myself have fun, maybe even pretend this is what he and I should've been doing the whole time." A moment of silence, taking a sip, swallowing his emotions down quickly with a deep breath. "But then I'll wake up in the morning, and will return to the same ol' Lima Loser like I've always been." Tucking the napking away in his jacket pocket, he fixes his corset The song that had been playing comes to a stop and a new one is selected (Lay with Me ft. Vanessa Hudgens, to be specific), and Kurt turns to give Sylvester a curt nod. "Now, if you excuse me, I'm going to go continue enjoying myself with my date." Passing the glass over towards her, he turns to stride across the dance floor towards the date in question, grin returning to his features, no trace of the moment of weakness to be visible. ( @wmublaine )

[samevans-wmu]

Plans didn’t exactly map out for Sam as his original intention was to go with his little bro. But when he learned Stevie’s tied up for the weekend Sam resorted to filling his night with his usual gym, school work, and video games routine. So, when an unexpected Winter Ball date-proposal landed in his texts from Mercedes Jones…well, it flattered the hell out of him!

It took less than ten seconds, would have been less if he texted faster, to jump at the chance to rock the ball with his stunningly fabulous friend. Since the day they collided on the lawn, literally, the pair been in each other’s lives. Whether it’s to make sweet music together (actual music! Not the naked kind) to talking about whatever’s in their minds, Sam has grown freaking jazzed about their friendship. So of course he will like nothing more than to dance, laugh, and show off Mercedes’ awesomeness to everyone in attendance. And on Instagram since he absolutely posted pics of her gorgeous, fiery self! 

Sam definitely owes Mercedes a thank you dinner or something for asking him to accompany her to the ball.

@wmu-cedes

[rosewmu]

Marley couldn’t have imagined a better date for the formal event. Even though Elliott could have gone with a milllion other people (no she was not exaggerating) he agreed to accompany her. He styled her hair and applied makeup. Made her feel like Molly Ringwald in Pretty in Pink. He even went so far as to get them matching angel and devil temporary tattoos. He made her feel special and appreciated.

While she can totally say he’s wild and crazy (glitter loving and all) she can also argue that he’s the kindest person she’s ever met. He’s literally always there for her. No matter what. He’s wildly talented in the arts and the perfect mentor. She’s beyond grateful she can call him her friend.

@elliottgilbert-wmu

[traegics]

✧ ― every photo tells a story: task 003 ― ✧

@ofhowlingxs @oflautus

[tinatm]

TINA COHEN-CHANG ↪ homecoming dance/birthday girl outfit

[jessetm]

▶ glee club task: week three: “homecoming”