thymesitic-blog

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you’re like GOLD DUST

it RAINS over me

                                 a foreign sun my eyes thought i’d NEVER SEE.

                                                                                                    – ( written by kemia. )

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reverse verse where instead of rohs remembering everything (hyperthymesia) rohs cant remember anything (impairment of long term memory) and is tortured by the fact that he cant remember anyone he meets and is crippled by the loneliness of thinking he means nothing to anyone

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(ʃƪ ˘ ³˘)

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Please hear me out:

I’m an Emotion-Sadist. I really love threads that are emotionally disturbing or downdragging to a certain degree. You must never be afraid to come to me and write something dramatic, emotional or complex. It’s those threads that give me the opportunity to come up with lots of ideas and depth!

The more emotion, the more complex, the better. Adult threads - YES PLEASE! We can all write shorties or one liners and fluff and whipty-doo-dee you know. But what makes a good thread is the topics that determine life the most (and that is just not always happiness, fluff and other sweet things). I’m not saying I’m not up for it, sure I like writing sweet things, but my muse just isn’t all sweet and genuine!

In another fandom I’ve seen lots of people be like “But I just wanna write threads that are nice”. Slowly everyone ran out of ideas, things got boring, ships broke up and friendships ended. I think if muses can overcome certain obstacles it only makes them bond much stronger - whether positively in a friendship manner or negatively in a villain manner - and therefore writing things like drama or tragedy is important to me! 

I am not underage anymore, I am of legal age, and I want to try myself out in all possible aspects that roleplay offers me. Please fight with my muse, break him, attack him, argue with him, cry at him, cry with him, make him flustered, startle him, scare him, be someone he thinks of in difficult situations. Give me the opportunity to go into DEPTH with him!

It’s called character development. 

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          Peripherals darting around absently, he spots a few scattered sticky notes, which could have been anything, varying from what he planned to eat for dinner to the details of a potentially life-ending phone call. The notebook was tented somewhere behind him in the grass, but right now he tried not to be worried about it despite the gathering gusts. Returning his attention wholeheartedly, he refocuses just in time to catch their glance and his own fingers slipping from contact, catalyzing the instant retreat of his hand and his gaze to wander upward while the other repositioned himself.

          Ears. Not normal ears, either. Maybe a cosplayer. Surprisingly, not his main concern right now ( though it arguably should be ). 

          His attention was settled entirely on the other’s response, and despite his own timorous output, felt an amicable yearning to calm them. All of a sudden they were scribbling, and Rohs’ consciousness of the situation was waning to his curiosities

                           Won’t speak to me -- Afraid of me

like his brain was burning and engraving permanent notes into the crevices of his memory.

          He leans forward to make out the words on the page, balancing on his palms. It was a simple and appreciated response, and, though disoriented for a matter of reasons, manages to forge the smallest of smiles out.

          ❝ -- It’s nothing bad -- I mean, no. No, I’m fine. Thanks for asking. ❞ Avoid the obvious questions. Make friendly conversation. Even if you suck at it. ❝ It’s... yeah, it got windy all of a sudden, huh? You should try to be careful up in those trees. They’re shaky. ❞

★ ∥*happenstance.

     The hand on his shoulder startled him enough to cause a slight jump, which he immediately cursed– this wasn’t an act of hostility. Leo had told him countless times over that not every contact from a human was meant to be malicious. Ears lifted against the palms of his hands still placed upon his hair, a very cautious– _be less cautious, Emugio_– glance over his shoulder at the man who’d spoken revealing the lack of enmity. Though his breathing hadn’t yet returned to normal, nor had his shaking stopped, he certainly didn’t feel as inclined to book it out of the area.

     “……..”

     The contact was beginning to burn him.      He shrugged away from the other’s hand as gingerly as he could, then willed himself to turn around. Keeping eye contact was still impossible it seemed, and so he simply nodded, his eyes trained on his side as he revealed a large sketchbook he’d kept hidden within his cloak. Removing a sketching pencil from one of two deep pockets, he began to scribble out quite quickly a response that seemed appropriate enough. Mere seconds later, he flipped the book over to reveal to the stranger his message.

「    I ‘m   s o rry  fo r    f allin g   o n yo u .                  Ar e    y ou      hu rt?                    」

     His heartbeat began to race in anticipation. While he was eased by the victim’s gentle presence, it was still too weird of a situation to simply get used to. He was facing his fears right now, and Leo’s voice when he complimented the young sheep played back in his mind to keep him grounded.

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          A small blue notebook, tightly bound and peppered with a gratuitous amount of sticky notes rested in an open palm as the end of his ballpoint clicks delicately against the end of his chin. Scattered about the pages are various thoughts, reminders, even dream interpretations. Of course, at times he lost his internal mental note on reality, and he would slip into vivid recollections without rhyme or reason. The journal was just his glittery, portable means of keeping up with his present self.

          Resting amongst the foliage, he absorbed his own existential thoughts as the strangely fresh air mixed with his soft breathing. Life and its beauty all seemed so oddly subjective when seen through the perspective of an entire universe with a never ceasing expanse. They weren’t even a speck, and yet, so breathtaking to humanity regardless. He shut his eyes then; enough of that.

          Completely attuned to his own mind, the rustling and the inexplicable noise of gravity passed him by completely. Until, well, he felt his back bow and made conversation to the dirt.

          Breath gone, back aching and heart flustered, the gasping Rohs allowed the other to scramble off ( or rather, had no time to react regardless ) before rising to an awkward sitting position, eyes gliding toward his cowering assailant. See, as much as he’d like to be mad, seeing them like that after a simple fall -- it brought him only concern for their well-being. Hesitantly, with a shaking hand and only a view of their back and a few anxious half-attempts, he gently places a hand on their shoulder.

           ❝ ... Are you -- okay? ❞

★ ∥*happenstance.

     The wonders of new places had always been enough to take his breath away. He found that the world’s beauty was indescribable, not a single word in his entire thoughtful vocabulary enough to capture how his heart soared at the sights of new horizons. Every detail had been noticed by the watchful sheep, admired in full; no human could ever be as beautiful as nature.

     The nature of his job had brought him close to the backgrounds of busy centers. He often found himself in trees, leaning lazily against tall trunks shrouded by thick leaves. This particular tree was so comfortable, it was almost as if it had grown to fit his body perfectly– the way his back had the proper support, the branches just right for his legs to fit between and his arm to rest against; he was nearly dozing as bright blue orbs kept watch on the humans below, growing more inclined to sleep with every breath.

     And as his body went limp, the wind blew strong, and his consciousness jolted; his form twitched as he woke, and with a bout of panic, he slipped right out the tree. He wasn’t clumsy, really; he just had the habit of panicking at the worst possible moment.

     He collided with the solid body of the exact race he was terrified of, too, as if his blunder couldn’t get any worse– his frantic arm movements and flipping to get off the stranger now pinned to the garden floor was messier than it had to be. By the time he scrambled off (leaving them both with a few scratches and bruises) he was in a panic, chest heaving with short, anxious breathing. He was too afraid to flee or face what he’d done; he could only cower in fear, hands pressing his soft ears to his head with his back to the poor, innocent victim.

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bruh

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ode to sleep // twenty one pilots

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Send me ‘HC’ + a word and I’ll tell you a headcanon about my muse(s) based on it.

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happy munday ( im really hot ) ( also ross bc the one-pic format on tumblr sucks )

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you’re like GOLD DUST

it RAINS over me

                                 a foreign sun my eyes thought i’d NEVER SEE.

                                                                                                    – ( written by kemia. )

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do you know what it’s like to not have a face ? to not have a personality ? a being ? a self ? i don’t even remember my own voice; i don’t know who i am. i left myself and my emotions behind a long time ago. there is no me. i’m always someone else for my assignments. but, all you talk about is trust and understanding. those feelings are for the masses controlled by emotions. now, you say i’m the phantom because i feel fear ?

                          DON’T MAKE ME LAUGH

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          Magentas flicker to they who spoke at such a short stature ( in comparison to him, at least ) as he casually but carefully rolls his sleeves to his elbows and mentally establishes himself to enter for the evening and beyond. Her intonation stings of revulsion, and he isn’t sure how to respond -- she’s only what he can assume to be a preteen -- so he immediately feels an awkward tension settle over him with her presumptions.

          ❝ Uh -- I like it, I guess since I can work late at night ... It’s quieter. I don’t like the drunkenness, but, uh, I try to keep out of other people’s business though? I just do what I have to. ❞

               “You work in there?” It’s not a matter of fortunate timing, but an impulse statement protruding her disgust for the bar; catching him heading, in uniform, to his shift is all the damning ammo she’ll ever need to justify it.      “Do you like it there—-your job? You like all the troubled drunks and low-lifers?”

| @thymesitic

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im really really busy with uni visits and i feel bleh so like? i might be mostly outtie until like monday or tuesday. anyway cool

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im going to start with starters from rohs .. length’ll vary depending on whatever idea comes into my head tbh

♥ for a starter! (or if you want to plan smth come talk to me)

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        though attempting to remain attentive, his mind wandered to the birds as they pecked at the crumbs scattered around. and it seemed as though his mind were absorbed into a complex metaphor, comparing the very mechanisms of the mind to the flight patterns of birds. then he remembered -- he was in a conversation.

          ❝ oh, uh, thanks. ❞ the compliment is very left field to him, and his face flushes when he isn’t able to process it as he’d liked. the inquiry has the same effect, but she seems so at ease twining her fingertips through the yarn, he felt obligated to please her.

          ❝ um -- no, i don’t, but i think i’d like to learn. it’d be nice if i could have more. ❞ scarves, he means. but at the expense of his short-term mindset, could he? he was far too easily disillusioned, and focusing on one task crippled him with migraines.

    The needles are placed down in her lap momentarily so she can give the birds the last bits of bread she had. When they finished and looked up to her for more she puts her hands up as a silent indication that she has none to give. As if they understood her, they began to scatter off elsewhere in their never ending quest to fill their bellies. With them gone she is able to give all her attention back to him. 

She grins a little and nods, holding up the pink creation. It is already quite long but she enjoys having big scarves so she intends on adding a bit more yarn before considering it finished. ❝You’re very sweet.❞ She coos softly while running her fingers through the accessory. It is very soft and so she is very pleased with her choice in yarn. ❝Just getting ready for winter. Do you knit?❞