𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝓦𝚁𝙸𝚃𝙴𝚁.
@phantomstales
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀،̲،̲ 𝑩𝑬𝑨𝑼𝑻𝑰𝑭𝑼𝑳 things are 𝒇𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒍𝒆.
Joined November 2025
and thus the heart will break , yet brokenly live on .
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you can love a monster， it can even love you back， but that doesn't change its nature.
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her, was ecstatic. “come!” she encouraged him, approaching the railing and extending her hand. “we can still follow them and give them a tip.”
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already a few steps ahead of him, edith stopped to listen to the singers, as if in a sort of religious trance, mentally reciting this sort of prayer herself. a faint smile, growing wider with the verses, appeared and she instinctively gift it to her friend who, even more than »
⠀ 𝕾𝒏𝒐𝒘 fell silently on the already whitened streets. a chorus of cantors praised the arrival of a prophet who would free men from death by granting them eternal life. even if such liberation was denied to him, melody moved the chords of his heart. ⠀
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other's. it was the first time edith was able to state it without feeling ashamed. “if you want, i could let you read a copy. i came here specifically to find a nib that would deceive my handwriting. unfortunately, many editors find it too feminine for such dark themes.”
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“i ... ” she was taken aback by the lady's words for a few seconds before continuing, before giggling in return. “don't get me wrong, i don't mean to sound arrogant, but my writing finds its roots in ghost stories.” her brown eyes were surprisingly directed into those of the »
ﾠ the question brought a frown to Ethel's features, as if it were something very difficult to answer ﹔ a murmur escaped her lips before she could give a proper response. “i like the romantic ones. a bit cliché, isn't it .ᐣ” ››
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as for love . . . why is it never enough to save us ?
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ㅤ .◞ ♱ ◟. ❛ ɪ ᴀᴍ 𝖔𝖇𝖘𝖈𝖊𝖓𝖊 ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ , ʙᴜᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴍʏꜱᴇʟꜰ 𝑰 ꜱɪᴍᴘʟʏ 𝖆𝖒 .ᐟ ❜ //. 🔩 ㅤ
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hey there! i just opened my commissions and i would really appreciate if you retweeted this post to spread the word and help an artist out. thank you very much, pookies 🫶 https://t.co/d60zG1qZ6C
torariart.carrd.co
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all i am is a man , i want the world in my hands .
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𝒚𝒐𝒖 would better keep your distance, because when he works with wood he is very focused on the work.
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the snow falling outside and the kids running and playing while some chanted christmas song.
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the shape of the packaging under her arm already gave a clue about the contents, but she still waited for the both of them to be in front of the christmas tree to present it. hand in hand with @spectrumcreati, she guided him there, pacing slowly to allow her friend to admire »
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⠀ 𝕾𝒏𝒐𝒘 fell silently on the already whitened streets. a chorus of cantors praised the arrival of a prophet who would free men from death by granting them eternal life. even if such liberation was denied to him, melody moved the chords of his heart. ⠀
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such choices have dire consequences .
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one hand allowed itself to rest on the girl's shoulder. “if i may ask, as an avid reader, what genre are you most passionate about?”
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a warm smile opened up on edith's lips too for the words spoken by the younger lady were much more encouraging than that of many young women she knew. it was heart-warming for a a debut female writer. “please, do not apologize. i can certainly only be flattered by your words.” »
ﾠ a small, polite smile remained on her face, widening at the question, as if it were so absurd that it was amusing. “oh, i'm not a writer ... but i am an avid reader,” the words carried humor, albeit a shy one. ››
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a hand rested on his chest, patting it softly before fixing his tie. “you are part of this home as much as i am.”
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and despite having learned to know this was untrue, she held those words dear in her heart and rang true for a few seconds. “but if you care, we will.” she added as her voice broke a little, turning to look into his dark eyes. “next year, you will be the one placing the star.” »
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