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ojovivo
macklin celebrini has autism
wallacepolsom
#extradirty
One Nice Bug Per Day
tannertan36
Keni
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
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@theartofmadeline
we're not kids anymore.
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Noah Kahan
Cosimo Galluzzi
occasionally subtle
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@atlasx-chen
“I know I run a true crime podcast, but this is insane. Even if I have my doubts, I seriously hope that the Harris Report is wrong about this one and that Tumblety is just missing.”
“Do you think he knows how to find his way home wherever he is? I think if someone like... kidnapped me or I ran away from home, I’m not sure I’d be able to find my way back.”
“Okay so... like... that dude is missing and possible maybe probably dead, but it turns out he was my neighbour and now there are cops everywhere. Can someone come break me out? I can’t get my car out of the driveway. This is totally bananas, I feel like I’m living a real life Netflix docuseries”
harrisreport:
“We like me better, darling. And you should 100% post the bail. I don’t want to interview new a new intrepid reporter who knows my coffee order and how to yell at my dry cleaner.”
“Okay so like... I understand the struggle but Mykie said no. Besides, I don’t think it’s very nice to yell at the dry cleaning lady, she’s actually really nice and she always fixes my designer shirts when I spill ketchup on them.”
tellittomykie:
No, sweetie. Regardless of who we like better, we should not pay bail for people breaking into police cars.
“Ohh, right. Okay, noted. No cash money for the bad flamingo man then. I feel bad though... did they like, at least give him some pants to wear in jail or something?”
“Sooo... Should I donate to pay that guy’s bail? Do we like the Harris report more than we like sir Tumblety?? Where do we draw the line?!? Someone please send help I am having a quarter life moral crisis.”
rcxxy:
Rolling her eyes, Roxy shook her head. “No, smartass, his name isn’t actually Mr. Moneybags. If that was his name it would be way too on the nose. His name is Ian Reinhardt.” Like the Tumblety family, Mr. Reinhardt had way too much money on hand and never seemed to use it for good reasons. He could easily fund some useful, life-changing services in town, but no. He chose to blow his money and yachts and to come up with elaborate ways to hide his indiscretions.
She had better things to do than dwell on that, like breaking into Ian Reinhardt’s office, apparently. “If you want to be Kimchi, go ahead and be Kimchi. I’ll be… Bourbon? I don’t know, I usually do this alone so I’ve never used codenames before.” Technically, codenames were not super important for the situation. It wasn’t as though they were going to be dealing with a lot of people in their search, and if they did run into anyone they would probably know their names anyway. Harris was a small town, so anonymity was not a luxury that they had. That was a danger of working on a case so close to home, but also part of the thrill.
As they drew closer to the office, Roxy started to explain things to Atlas. He was new, after all, and she didn’t want them to bungle their first date-slash-sleuthing session. “A little diary of evil plans and villainy would be nice, but not likely. They never leave information out in the open, you have to learn to read between the lines.” Stopping by the back door, Roxy peered around to make sure that nobody was looking. She checked the door and was unsurprised to find that it was locked. No problem. No problem at all. Holding her hand out, she wiggled her fingers. “Lockpick, please. Keep a look out for me, okay?”
Once she had the lockpicks in hand, she started to work on unlocking the door. Unlike in the movies, it did not only take a few seconds. Not with this kind of lock. “Once we’re inside, we want to look for anything that looks out of place or that looks like it was hastily covered up. A man as meticulous as Ian Reinhardt would not leave anything to chance, so if he had something to do with what happened to Mr. Tumblety, he would definitely have had a record of it somewhere, just disguised as something else.”
“Ohhhh,” Atlas nodded along as Roxy explained, “Not actually Mr. Moneybags, got it. Well, Ian still sounds like a sus name. Imagine having a name with only 3 letters in it, I could never.” He couldn’t quite put a face to the name, despite it being somewhat familiar. Honestly, they’d probably met at some function his parents dragged him to but Atlas could hardly be bothered to pay attention at those. His only real purpose was to look pretty and schmooze the investors of Harris anyway. Naturally, Atlas took to it like a duck to water. “Bourbon suits you,” he smiled, chuckling quietly at her acceptance of codenames, “Next time we should absolutely get walkies and pretend like we’re pulling off a bank heist.” He was kidding. Mostly. Read between the lines? “Uhh and... how do you do that? It took me longer than the other kids to learn how to read as is,” he admitted sheepishly. He knew there weren’t actual words between the lines but the expression still managed to confuse him greatly. When asked for the lockpick, Atlas wordlessly thrusted the entire pile in his hands forward, letting Roxy choose what she needed. Ah, so that’s what a lockpick looks like. Noted. “Now that is something I can definitely do,” he nodded, unceremoniously shoving the rest of the items into his pockets and surveying the street. As expected of a small town, the place was seemingly deserted.
“Ooookie dokie~,” Atlas sing-songed after Roxy explained what they were looking for. Did he have any idea what to actually look for? Nope. Not a single clue in that empty head of his. A sudden crashing sound in the alley startled him, causing him to jump up slightly, “Oh shit, oh shit, we’re screwed, it’s the police, they’re going to ARREST US. My parents are SO going to-” he started, his thoughts only cut short by the appearance of a small tabby cat exiting the same alley where the sound came from, “Oh.”. Letting out a sigh of relief, Atlas smiled sheepishly at Roxy, “Uh... sorry about that. Anyways, continue what you were doing.”
Once Roxy had successfully unlocked the door, Atlas followed her inside. He didn’t know why he was expecting some evil lair or something, but it was clearly just a typical building, like the one his parents’ often ran their businesses out of. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing screaming ‘super villain mastermind at work.’ “So, sleuthing mastermind bourbon, where do we start?” He asked, looking at Roxy and tilting his head in curiosity. Despite practically growing up in a similar building, “What exactly would be out of the ordinary for an office building anyway?”
rcxxy:
When most people thought about going on a date with their person, they thought of cute little coffee dates or going to see a movie. Or staying home to watch some trashy movie on Netflix and then see where the night took them. There were many ideas for dates, but snooping around and trying to find information for a true-crime podast? That was probably not one of the more common ones.
Roxy and Atlas were sitting in Roxy’s car, admittedly the more beat-up of their vehicles but probably the less conspicuous of the two. They were chasing down a lead on the Warren Tumblety III case, and while there had been no official suspects in the case, it was always good to follow the money. And right now, the money was pointing towards one of Tumblety’s “business partners”.
“It isn’t official, but I heard from one of my sources that Tumblety and Mr. Moneybags here had a bit of a falling out recently. Something to do with a bad business venture. Rumour has it he was sleeping with Mrs. Tumblety as well.” Then again, according to rumour, everyone had slept with Mrs. Tumblety.
The lights were off and nobody had come in or out of the office for a good twenty minutes, which Roxy took as a good a sign as any. “C’mon, let’s check it out,” Roxy said, opening the driver’s side door. “Grab my lockpicks, would you? They are in the glovebox.”.
@atlasx-chen
Atlas’d never dated someone quite like Roxy. Actually, he’d be moderately ashamed to admit he’d been intimidated by her at first. Which, naturally, made him want to ask her out even more. And maybe he still was intimidated. Just a little. A tad, perhaps. How he’d gotten so lucky was beyond him. Then again, not questioning suspicious things hadn’t failed him in life so far. Best not to stray from the norm on this one.
Atlas stretched his legs out in front of him in the passenger side of Roxy’s car. Well, as far as he could anyway. Being tall had its perks but it also had its downfalls. He’d definitely run into doorframes more times than he’d care to admit. Honestly though, he’d sit here for hours just to spend time with Roxy. Cramped legs be damned. “Mr. Moneybags?” Atlas asked, “Is that like... his real name? Because that’s kind of weird but also cool. Oh! Or is this like a codename situation? Like secret agents use? Do we need codenames too? Can I be kimchi?” It was a genuine question, although maybe off-topic. The politics of the situation went right over his head, but Atlas was genuinely trying his best here.
“Okay got it!” he replied enthusiastically, opening the glove box. He did, in fact, not have it. Atlas surveyed the contents carefully, unsure of what lock picks were supposed to look like. Sure, he’d seen a handful of them on TV but he’d never really had a use for them in real life. Until now, apparently. “What exactly do the-” Atlas began, cutting himself short when he realized Roxy was already long gone. Well then. Nodding to himself, Atlas made the executive decision to grab anything that could pass as a lock pick or a bag that could possibly contain lock picks. Most of the contents of the glove box, really. Good thing he had long arms. Perfect for holding things.
Following Roxy out of the car, he jogged slightly to catch up to her, “So what’s the plan here exactly?” he asked, cradling his armful of goodies to his chest to avoid dropping anything, “Because I don’t exactly think Sir Moneybags left a diary with all his evil plans laying around for us to find.” Clearly, Atlas was new to the sleuthing business but he genuinely had no clue what kind of incriminating evidence they could find in an empty office.
20. What would you sing at Karaoke night?
"Definitely something by T-Swift, she's such an icon. Her songs are always such bops and like, who doesn't know the lyrics to at least one of them? 'Cause the players gonna play, play, play, play And the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, I shake it off, shake it off."
megansmanymisadventures:
“Atlas, when have you ever let anything be sad? You break the limits of hotness, friendo, you live your adventure story not a horror story. Or like a love story or whatever you’re into right now.”
“Ohh like a choose your own adventure game? Sounds fun. And, well, I’m definitely into Roxy right now so I hope romance is part of it. Do you think she’s into me too? I mean like. I know we’re like... literally dating and I’m a total catch but what if??”
tellittomykie:
“You are too precious for this world sweetie. But I can definitely keep you in the drinks and have someone keep an eye on you.”
“Okay! And in return I promise I won’t climb on any tables tonight. Even if the DJ plays a remix of Harry Styles again.”
megansmanymisadventures:
“We have spent so much time together your logic is starting to make sense to me. Or maybe something about psycho threats just makes day drinking sound fun. The good news is, statistically this person is probably a white male, 25-40, and probably therefore adheres to white American beauty standards. Which means that we can be as hot as we want and be safe because we’re not natural blondes who look like they fell out of a protein shake commercial from Sweden.”
“Day drinking is basically just pre-drinking the pre-drink. It’s only sad if you let it be. So, like, the sky’s the limit on hotness then? Because I don’t think I can tone it down at this point and I don’t want to be come an attractive people horror story. Hot people have rights too.”
tellittomykie:
“I…oh sweetie. You know I worry about you sometimes. I think we’re good, but just be careful okay? We can’t lose any of the pretty ones.”
“I would worry about me too if I looked like me. Let’s both be extra extra careful then. Except like, maybe a little bit drunk level extra careful, that seems like the right choice.”
megansmanymisadventures:
“I can’t believe you just called murder cheugy. I hope the creeper is too old to know what that means. Where the heck are you, you dork??”
“Okay but am I wrong though? Murder is definitely not trending. I was thinking about going to the bar because it’s half off drinks but then I decided it was too early in the morning for that. So I turned around to go to the catfe and play with the cats instead. But then I thought about it even more and, if this is about to turn into one of those slasher movies where all the hot people die, maybe it doesn’t matter if I drink early in the morning if I don’t make it to tonight. Then I got a headache thinking about it too much so I sat under this tree to wait for something to happen.”
tellittomykie:
“Sweetie, love…no, this is not a game. Harris is not that quirky.”
“Soooo like... this is some real life horror town TV cliche? But like... the hot ones always die first. Are we going to die??”
megansmanymisadventures:
“Wha- no. No no no. Do not speak murder into the universe. This town is weird enough without that. No one is dead. I think. And unless both our invitations got lost in the mail, I think this might be legit?? Do not lick the paint, Atlas. Do not lick the paint.“
Wait, for serious?? Like... someone is that mad for realsies? Oh dang. Well okay then I guess maybe being scared is warranted then. Sorry the vibes are bad, I take it back, murder is definitely cheugy.
tellittomykie:
“Okay, I don’t know about you guys, but this is kind of intense. Hopefully, PD is taking things more seriously. Also, ew. In light of these events though, half off drinks tonight? You betcha.”
“Everyone seems kind of freaked out... but isn’t it just a game? Y’know, like, quirky small town thing? There’s no way this is like... actually real right?”
“Is this like, one of those town wide murder mystery events?? Like the ones people play at parties?? The note even looked so real. This is so fun!”
