ᑦˑ˒ @cicadaspiel - Tumblr Blog

💿⁉️ : cicadas are singing to eightiesbby. dni if you are not part of the choir. leaf owned by diaz ( he / they ) + twenty4. all bugs are coming to town ! ｡𖦹°‧ wby .ᐣ

#pinned.#dni.

derekhalestorm-deactivated20130

#desplazamientos.

funeral

Jean Rhys, Smile Please: An Unfinished Autobiography

#desplazamientos.

｡:゜᪤｡ open starter — at : break room . ⭑𓂃

Something’s wrong. Maybe it’s the new sugar Clementine got, or is the mug? He should've stuck to his old mug, but he just couldn't find it. Who could he blame then? Emilio, probably, since César saw the preppy asshole eyening the mug with a sort of… desire. Desire to steal. Drinking the coffee again, César felt the urge to scream. What the fuck is wrong with it? He looked to the left, spotting the first person to walk in the break room. “ I need you. ” He voiced, serious as ever. “ Can you taste the coffee I made and explain to me what the fuck is wrong with it? It’s not as good as it should be. Something terrible happened. ”

#open starter.#threads.

cicadaspiel

｡:゜᪤｡ event # 𝟎𝟎𝟏 — in celebration . ⭑𓂃 feat. @luckmagnets :

He should place a bet, or grab his camera. The interaction between those two strangers was escalating quickly enough: conversation to discussion to maybe-a-fight?, and César had no idea about how to act. It wasn’t his business anyway, too high to even think about himself and how the fuck am I going home again?, he should not bother about others. He should, however, try to find his camera. “ Do you think it’s something personal like,” He started saying to the wind, aware of the company beside him but not enough to remember who it was. “ You cheated on me with my wife, or something very boring like baseball? ” Finishing the water inside his cup, César looked to his left, blinking slowly – and very confusingly – at Tate. “ Oh, hey. It’s you. ”

luckmagnets

he flashes césar a wide grin as he's recognized, but his attention returns soon to the scene before them. he's a little high and a lot distracted, but the escalating argument catches his interest in that curious way only drama can. tate tilts his head, squinting slightly at the two strangers, not sure whether he's trying lip read or distinguish snippets of their conversation against the song playing in the background. "probably something petty, right?" tate muses. "you might be right about the love triangle— people are always so dramatic about that stuff. but hey, who knows? could just be a bad day for both of 'em." it’s easy to say when you see the best in people, and he nudges césar with a shoulder. "you think someone's gonna throw a punch?"

cicadaspiel

Are you a monk? César wanted to ask, but he couldn’t find the tone to make the question feel serious enough. Well, he was curious, he wanted to know if Tate’s… ability to see and interpret everything through kind lenses was natural, or an exercise to something bigger. Maybe he wanted to be a priest when he was little, César thought, looking at Tate’s face and noticing – for the very first time – how beautiful he was. I’m drunk, he thought next. “ I sure hope not cuz I don’t wanna see people ruining their fun. ” He rolled his eyes, hating on people who tried to separate fights. “ I mean, look, ” Index finger pointed to the person on the right, the one who was talking lots and screaming bits – LIAR, HOW DARE YOU?, HOUSE –, César snorted, shaking his head. “ What if they, person a, caught person b, ” His finger moved towards the other direction, finding the new target. “ Cheating inside their home? Maybe a threesome? Or worse, maybe cheating plus stealing some shit? That’s nasty work, and b has a nasty worker face. ”

#caminando con : tate⭑.ᐟ @ luckmagnets #01 w/ tate. <3

cicadaspiel

｡:゜᪤｡ event # 𝟎𝟎𝟏 — in celebration . ⭑𓂃 feat. @applecrumb :

The crowd was attentive as ever, eyes following the three cups, mouths shutted in a thin line. César could feel the tension building up everytime he dared to make a move, just to go back with his wrist, putting cup B back in place and moving cup C instead. It was a silly game, really, one he pulled out during family gatherings to entertain his younger cousins, to keep the kids away from the pool for a couple of minutes after lunch. Usually the prize was very modest: a five dollar bill, a chocolate bar, or a very popular favourite, one package of strawberry gum. Adults, however, played for fun. Or frustration. Nobody was able to guess at the sixth try, and César gave up, laughing and surrendering himself. “ Look, I tried my best to make it easier for you guys… ” Three people started chanting then, asking for another chance, just one more, seven is my lucky number, man!, but César moved on, taking the cup A and cup B to be his companion near the mini fridge. He held the two cups and his hip flask, taking a sip from it, but not daring to make a face. “ New game, friends! YOU! ” Index finger pointed to a random man sitting on the couch. “ Will guess what drink I made for cup A and cup B, and, oh, yeah, this time there’s a prize… ” He took another big sip, still not telling how strong that unknown drink was. “ And I will keep it a secret, but just know I’m wearing it, so, good luck. ” Beer! “ Both cups? ” Yeah! “ Wrong. ” Beer and water with… sugar? “ Wrong.” Beer and beer with coke? “ Which kind of coke…? No, wrong! ” And so on. “Ok, next one to get it wrong will owe me a favour or ten bucks, I don’t care. TRY harder, people! ”

applecrumb

how in the hell does he keep winning ??? the short girl stood almost completely immobile, only breaking her pose to occasionally take a sip from her drink ( a sweet alcoholic beverage handed to her by clementine, its ingredients a total mystery ). matilda had been staring at césar for a while now. the whole duration of the first game her eyes had been following his hands, suspecting his impressive luck to be a simple sleight-of-hand trick. but doing this revealed nothing to her: not a singular hint that could explain how he hadn’t lost even once ( conclusion: either the luck is completely real or there is nothing simple about his tricks ).

now, the next game was more straightforward in a sense, but still it amazed and slightly frustrated matilda that the grinning boy continued to be undefeated. come on, just lose one time like a normal person. this thought was a tad mean spirited, ( his unexplainable luck was making her go slightly insane ), but matilda didn’t particularly dislike césar, though she would not be able to call him a friend either… being completely honest, she had the feeling that he didn’t like her very much: oh but the guy is impossible to figure out, so I can never say for sure. even so, the awkward worm felt oddly comfortable around him; not because of affection really, but because of an anomaly in her part: she didn’t care if he liked her or not. in a way, césar was simply a recurrent character in her life ( at work yes, and before that, in his own home ). if matilda had any cousins whom she didn’t click with at all, she would probably have found their relationship to be kind of similar to that. kind of. but considering this unusual feeling of familiarity, it made sense that when césar challenged the crowd, matilda´s hand would shoot up in response: " i´ll try ! "

cicadaspiel

The calm within Matilda was, above all, dense. César noticed that the first time they met, and to this day he believes that her aura – vibe, whatever – was responsible to keep him calm and avoid a very awkward situation; instead of asking the girl 'what the fuck are you doing inside my house? leave now', he asked his brother 'what the fuck is she doing inside our house?' and it was all good, settled. “ Good. ” He pointed to both cups, crossing arms next, defiant towards the challenge. “ You are old enough to drink, right? ” He knew the answer, of course, but: (a) picking on Matilda was mandatory; (b) this was a strategy to see her as a child and, hence, harmless; (c) he started drinking at fourteen, so what was the legal age, anyway? “ Go for it, Matilda, I trust your smart brain. ” And he did. And that was the problem: her potential was even bigger than her awkwardness.

#caminando con : matilda⭑.ᐟ @ applecrumb #01 w/ matilda. <3

100493503004422

mmm oh I can't think about that or I'll die

#desplazamientos.

elizabethsinclair

love elizabeth s.

#desplazamientos.

｡:゜᪤｡ event # 𝟎𝟎𝟏 — in celebration . ⭑𓂃 feat. @luckmagnets :

He should place a bet, or grab his camera. The interaction between those two strangers was escalating quickly enough: conversation to discussion to maybe-a-fight?, and César had no idea about how to act. It wasn’t his business anyway, too high to even think about himself and how the fuck am I going home again?, he should not bother about others. He should, however, try to find his camera. “ Do you think it’s something personal like,” He started saying to the wind, aware of the company beside him but not enough to remember who it was. “ You cheated on me with my wife, or something very boring like baseball? ” Finishing the water inside his cup, César looked to his left, blinking slowly – and very confusingly – at Tate. “ Oh, hey. It’s you. ”

#eightiesbby.event #caminando con : tate⭑.ᐟ @ luckmagnets #01 w/ tate. <3

｡:゜᪤｡ event # 𝟎𝟎𝟏 — in celebration . ⭑𓂃 feat. @girlzpace :

“ You do have this really personal problem with me, don’t you? ” A gun to his head demanding a serious reaction for more than five seconds wouldn’t be enough. César was fighting demons to keep a straight face, arms crossed against his chest, brows touching. “ It is not my fault you pissed yourself, I told you to wear a diaper, you never listen to me… ” The loudest dad laugh ever scared a girl nearby, and César had to stop to apologize and, finally, give his attention back to Genesis in a second; the look on her face suddendly worrying him. If a death threat had eyes... “ ¿Y tú qué miras, meona? Live a little, have a laugh, Jesus. ”

#eightiesbby.event #caminando con : genesis⭑.ᐟ @ girlzpace #01 w/ genesis. <3

｡:゜᪤｡ event # 𝟎𝟎𝟏 — in celebration . ⭑𓂃 feat. @applecrumb :

The crowd was attentive as ever, eyes following the three cups, mouths shutted in a thin line. César could feel the tension building up everytime he dared to make a move, just to go back with his wrist, putting cup B back in place and moving cup C instead. It was a silly game, really, one he pulled out during family gatherings to entertain his younger cousins, to keep the kids away from the pool for a couple of minutes after lunch. Usually the prize was very modest: a five dollar bill, a chocolate bar, or a very popular favourite, one package of strawberry gum. Adults, however, played for fun. Or frustration. Nobody was able to guess at the sixth try, and César gave up, laughing and surrendering himself. “ Look, I tried my best to make it easier for you guys… ” Three people started chanting then, asking for another chance, just one more, seven is my lucky number, man!, but César moved on, taking the cup A and cup B to be his companion near the mini fridge. He held the two cups and his hip flask, taking a sip from it, but not daring to make a face. “ New game, friends! YOU! ” Index finger pointed to a random man sitting on the couch. “ Will guess what drink I made for cup A and cup B, and, oh, yeah, this time there’s a prize… ” He took another big sip, still not telling how strong that unknown drink was. “ And I will keep it a secret, but just know I’m wearing it, so, good luck. ” Beer! “ Both cups? ” Yeah! “ Wrong. ” Beer and water with… sugar? “ Wrong.” Beer and beer with coke? “ Which kind of coke…? No, wrong! ” And so on. “Ok, next one to get it wrong will owe me a favour or ten bucks, I don’t care. TRY harder, people! ”

#eightiesbby.event #caminando con : matilda⭑.ᐟ @ applecrumb #01 w/ matilda. <3

｡:゜᪤｡ event # 𝟎𝟎𝟏 — in celebration . ⭑𓂃 feat. @rodecstcr :

“ Sooo… Do you want to try this or…? ” César gestured to the cat, his suspicious – but very sleepy – eyes taking a peak of the two humans in front of him. “ He seems very chill and approachable right now. Does he hate you? Because he likes me, huh, most of the time. ” It was true. Garfunkel liked to listen to César’s whispers about some clients and loved the treats the man provided in secret. In fact, César wished to have some treats right now. A pic for a treat, would that even work? “ You try to hat him and I take the photo? ” He had the Spectra on one hand, the weird hat on the other, the two decisions being offered but only one being begged: please, grab the hat. “ Or do you want to, I don’t know, let rock, paper, scissors be our fate? ”