Stranger Things
occasionally subtle
★
if i look back, i am lost
cherry valley forever
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
dirt enthusiast
RMH
Janaina Medeiros
⁂
shark vs the universe
Acquired Stardust
Sade Olutola
Discoholic 🪩
Claire Keane
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
we're not kids anymore.
d e v o n
Jules of Nature
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from France
seen from United States
seen from Colombia
seen from Switzerland
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Greece
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from United States
@retrologists
* 𝗥𝗘𝗧𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗦. a selective & mutually exclusive MULTI - MUSE from media set in various time periods, including STRANGER THINGS, THE THING, THE X-FILES, THE MUMMY & more.
reminisced by BERRY, she / her, 30+, gmt. est. august 2023. this blog will feature mature, dark & potentially triggering themes. crossover, au & oc friendly. do NOT follow if under the age of 21+.
⁰¹ 𝗖𝗔𝗥𝗥𝗗. ⁰² 𝗪𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧. ⁰³ 𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗣𝗦.
NOW INACTIVE.
muse list below cut.
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so, after a LOT of thought over the last few months, i've finally made the decision to retire from tumblr rp. there are a lot of reasons, but definitely with the crap changes the platform keeps making, my real life (i.e. wedding planning, work, other commitments) i've felt like i'm forcing enthusiasm and replies and just being here out of obligation, not wanting to let anyone down.
i've tried to keep going as normal, hoping i'd feel as enthusiastic as i used to, and i was tempted to stay until the end of this year and finally decide then, but wouldn't it be worse to keep things going only to cut them all short then? idk. there's no perfect time to quit! this is the first time i've ever made a post like this (i've only ever quit a fandom/muse, not rp entirely ever since i started it in 2012, and tumblr rp in 2016) and it feels quite surreal in a way.
it's been very fun nonetheless, and i've met some amazing people (i will always be grateful to those who always wanted to write with me, always sent things and expressed interest, that really means a lot and kept me going here for such a long time), but unfortunately it's just not the same now and i think my passion for it has just gradually drained away. being completely honest, the thought of NOT having to check my blogs and bring myself to churn out replies actually feels relieving, and i realized i'd rather focus on other creative outlets i don't currently have time for like painting, drawing etc.
i'm not deleting my blogs (i'm a sentimentalist at heart and i don't like getting rid of memories - plus you never know, i might change my mind in future), but as of now i'll be marking them inactive, closing my inbox and you're all welcome to unfollow me of course. just know i'll never forget this hobby and you all, and thank you very much for the creative memories we've made together!
( 🌧️ ) : for our muses to be stranded together in the rain. (Barb)
* 𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗢𝗠 𝗦𝗖𝗘𝗡𝗔𝗥𝗜𝗢𝗦. / @crawlingforwardx.
So much for a short drive, to be dropped off at her home in a few minutes from the town fundraiser they'd crossed paths at. The rain had begun as a light mist, nothing more, but evolved into a full Midwestern downpour, cold and utterly relentless, sky pitch dark and heavy with the promise of more of the same. It wasn't the biggest deal... until the BMW began to make a very worrying sound and eventually slowed to a total stop, prompting the redhead to look Steve's way with concern and a raised brow. For as much as he has changed, she still doesn't quite picture him in a jumpsuit, hood of the car open as Steve works on it himself, getting covered in grease in the process.
This kind of thing would have honestly alarmed Barb so much more before her visit to that other world, and the thought of walking home in the rain pales in comparison to having to survive in an alien place alone for as long as she had. At least here there aren't monsters around every corner… at least she hopes there aren't. Nonetheless, the pair are stranded together in the rain with a dead engine and thus a stationary car. Thunder claps above them, and Barb tugs her sweater around herself a little more tightly; hating the feeling of being cold ever since she came back. Lightning is sure to follow — also a source of discomfort for her now. Relax. It's just weather.
She really needs to take her driving test, and get a car. The rain hits the metal roof in a manner that's almost comforting despite the storm and the chill even in the car, and while before she might have quietly deferred to Steve, asking him what they're going to do now, but planning and taking the reigns comes much easier nowadays. There’s a beat of silence as she thinks — heavy, but surprisingly not uncomfortable. It doesn't take long before Barb pitches her first idea. “...The community center's still pretty close. We could run back there on foot, and call someone to help.”
The BEST thing they did with Lucas's character in season four was making him want to be popular without making him suddenly a dick or making him 'lose sight' of 'what's important,' ie his friends.
He makes it so clear that he is doing this for all of them, and he never stops reaching out. When he finds out they're in danger, he literally runs god knows how far or how long to find them. He never resents Max for pulling away and he doesn't try to bring the potential drama with his friends into the Upside Down.
I love him so much 😭
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THE MUMMY (1999) dir. Stephen Sommers
7 Days of Kisses - Countdown to Valentine's Day {4/7} Evelyn Carnahan & Rick O'Connell The Mummy (1999)
The Mummy (1999) dir. Stephen Sommers
wanted to make it gayer
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clingy mf
crazy busy work + being ill = no energy or writing. hopefully back soon
ELIZABETH LAIL via @ garethbromell Instagram
“ just let me sleep for five more minutes. ” (Jonathan)
* 𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗔𝗙𝗧𝗘𝗥. / @crawlingforwardx.
Beautiful words. Ones Jonathan finds it very difficult to argue with at this time of day, as a guy who is generally sleepy and has never been much of a morning person. His only response is a lazy hum of total and vehement agreement, and he stretches an arm past Steve to hit the very worn and overused 'SNOOZE' button on the alarm clock. A blissful silence follows and he withdraws his arm, placing a few kisses to Steve's hair, shoulder, and upper back before settling behind him again; looping an arm around Harrington's waist and snuggling close against him, bringing Steve's back flush against his chest. It's not going to be five minutes, and he's fine with that.
Send a ❦ if you'd consider shipping our muses.
bonus if you add a type of ship you’d like them to be or a thread idea for our muses.
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The faintest upturn of her mouth appears, and though it's gone just as quickly as it appears, it's a brief reminder of a past version of herself that hasn't made an appearance in a long time. Not that she wants that past her to come back. Max has changed since then, just like she told Lucas, and that's simply the way it is. But for once, she feels like she has some common footing with someone on safer topics, like mutual agreement on songs. Max takes a breath. That's okay, right?
"I honestly don't know how you do it," she deadpans in that sarcastic way of hers. "Serving all these customers and taking a break? That's some pretty wild shit." She reaches for her own napkin to unravel, and with a fork now in hand, takes a bite of the pie. "Thanks," Max says between bites. "It's an Ocean Pacific skateboard. Got it back home in San Diego." Her gaze lifts to Kat's, the question now burning on her tongue. "I think your skates are pretty bitchin', too. Do you... do you roller skate just for work, or do you skate off hours, too?"
She has decided she likes this girl. Funny in that deadpan way, seems guarded but a person with personality can never fully conceal it no matter how much they try. “Don't beat yourself up about it. I'm just that good,” Kat jokes right back just as sarcastically, holding up her hands in a 'what can I say?' kind of way. A nonchalant shrug is offered to the thanks given, and a flicker of clear interest can be seen in the waitress' pale green hues when San Diego is mentioned. “...California? No way.” She just got even cooler.
A compliment is returned back to her, and the brunette glances down at one of the skates sticking out from the table due to the way she's sitting; hot pink with yellow stars and laces, complete with pink wheels to match. “Thanks! Oh—” she waves her hand dismissively when asked if this is just for work, keen to explain her passionate stance on roller skates. “...Like, all the time. As much as possible. I'm a runner too, but skating's my favorite.” She pauses, soft smile remaining on her lips at the idea she has come across someone who will be able to relate to that. “Have you done it before, or do you just stick to boards?”
It feels easier to talk with Heather. Intuitively, Max knows it's because Heather was Billy's friend and cared enough to bring a bit of California to his grave with the flowers. But there's something else, too. As they talked, there was none of that fake ass attempt at making it better. Here at Billy's grave, it's just the two of them sitting in their grief and letting it be what it is. For once, Max doesn't feel like she's so goddamn alone, and she gets the sense that Heather feels the same, too.
Max looks over at Heather, unable to stop the tears that well up in her eyes this time. She's unaccustomed to being understood, and for a moment, she says nothing. Max hangs on to Heather's words-- for what? She doesn't know. They don't change anything, at least not in the ways that matter. The only thing Max does know is that ever since Billy died, nobody has ever apologized and actually meant it. "...I'm sorry, too, Heather." Max doesn't pretend to know what it was like for Heather to go through the possession, but there's something unspoken that she does recognize. She feels it in herself. Guilt at being here when Billy isn't.
But it was Heather's next words that had Max sitting up at attention. It rips her out of the part of her grief that was drowning her and lands her squarely on a much firmer foundation: anger. It was hard enough that Billy died (she still feels his blood on her hands). It was goddamn unacceptable that the monster got to live instead of him. "Do-- do you feel it all the time?" Max asks, her eyes searching Heather's. "Does it feel any different than before? Like-- is it weaker or something?" A pause. "...Is it angry?"
It's the most candid and open Heather has been since all this happened. With others, she either has to keep quiet entirely lest they think she's nuts, or she hides behind the safety of snarky comments and pretending she's fine. She didn't realize how much she truly needed a moment like this until it was already upon her. In a weird way it feels like Billy is kind of here too, and the feeling of being around those who understand, a safe atmosphere, makes Heather feel a lot less alone. Even so, it remains difficult — only it's less about her pride and stoicism and more about the monster in question, her fear deep-rooted and mental scars permanent.
As far as she's concerned, Max has nothing to be sorry for, but the ex-lifeguard gives a brief nod in response to the apology nonetheless, finding it comforting in a way. It means that maybe she's not a monster — at least not in the eyes of others. Her gaze flickers to Max when the ultimate question is posed, and while it scares her, Heather tries to 'feel' the monster, wanting to help as best she can; for the sake of Billy, herself, and everyone in Hawkins. She wants vengeance. Retribution. “I... think so,” she announces after a few moments. “Angry. Wounded, maybe... but still strong.” And the scariest part of all: “He hates this world, Max. He wants to destroy it.” And with the kind of power she felt the creature had, a part of her thinks he could achieve it.
