Hello inner child, I'm the inner babysitter

UGH SORRY. I’m applying for a media fellowship & the app is due ON THE 31st so that’s why I’ve been absent. I hope to be back soon, but I gotta crack down & finish all my 2nd/3rd/final drafts of shit so *fingers crossed* I do that in time. I mean if not I’ll be back anyway since I won’t have that to do (they probably weren’t looking for large research pieces but I have to go and be extra like I always am).

WHAT ARE YOUR MUSE’S AESTHETICS ? BOLD ANY WHICH APPLY TO YOUR MUSE !

Please repost, don’t reblog.

tagged : @agenttrevor tagging : @polysemantor, @blackthumbed, @trickyandwicked (4 o’clock in the afternoon), @brazenlass

It was hard to see out from the slightly too big witch’s hat which engulfed her head. The other’s tone sounded familiar as she shivered in the pouring rain. “Yes, I was looking for a man - uh, Greg, wasn’t it? He’s on death’s door right now. I don’t want to miss his passing.” Bridget admitted sheepishly.

“‘Names Bridget. I’m not noble cuz that’s what everyone assumes. You never heard of a poor person called Bridget, huh? But..once  they see the hat and they go running.”

Susan smiled as Bridget rambled on, she understood what she meant about people running from the hat: people always depending on witches, but it didn’t exactly mean they liked them. “It’s nice to meet you Bridget, I’m sure you’re a lovely person and a great witch.” 

She inhaled deeply and frowned slightly as she looked behind her towards the house where Greg no longer resided. Well that was not exactly true - his body was still there after all.

theinnerbabysitter:

@blackthumbed from here

Susan inhaled deeply and tried not to roll her eyes. “This is not about good and evil.” Susan let out a sigh before looking over at Clarke patiently. She had one eyebrow raised - it was a look she had perfected on her students, one that made patently clear that she would not put up with any nonsense. She knew exactly what Clarke was referring to, something that followed the both of them everywhere: death, and the connotations surrounding it. People thought of it as evil when in fact it just was. As her grandfather had once told her father, who mistakenly thought that death should follow some moral code, “THERE IS NO JUSTICE, THERE IS JUST US.” 

“This goes beyond that. It is more,” she paused, pursing her lips slightly as she searched for the right turn of phrase, “about the nature of belief.” 

“After all there are some things we’d like them to believe in, even if they do not, in fact, exist.”

      Clarke met the expression with one of her own, unconsciously mirroring the other woman. She was being a TINY bit of an ass here, at least by her typical standards – but this wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have. 

      Ever. 

      Bad enough the stranger seemed to know things she’d never spoken of to anyone. And felt – FAMILIAR. 

      She slid her set of cards back up her sleeve. 

      “This is not at all the lecture I was expecting,” she deadpanned. “Contemplating the nature of something so ephemeral – INEFFABLE – seems like an exercise in inviting migraines.”

Susan let out a slight laugh - she couldn’t help it. Not wishing to discuss or acknowledge such matters was something she was all too familiar with. She shook her head slightly, a faint smile playing upon her lips. “I think we both know that it is all too real, though I do not wish to cause you any pain.”