
if i look back, i am lost

Love Begins
Show & Tell
wallacepolsom
todays bird
TVSTRANGERTHINGS

祝日 / Permanent Vacation

@theartofmadeline
art blog(derogatory)
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
Misplaced Lens Cap

Kaledo Art
dirt enthusiast
Monterey Bay Aquarium

roma★
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
noise dept.
almost home

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Austria

seen from United Kingdom
seen from France

seen from China
seen from Türkiye
seen from Spain

seen from South Korea

seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States

seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States

seen from Japan
@downoverabq
absolutehorror
she hands her the bong, followed by a brightly colored lighter. mari’s grin is wide, eager to have someone to share drugs with. perhaps it’s SICK of her to be so excited over lacing someone’s weed, but it gets lonely to drown in the drugs all by her lonesome. ‘ ah – th – that’s my girl. ‘ she coos, beaming even brighter as she relaxes back in her car seat. ‘ be ca – careful, ‘s got a lil … KICK. ‘
geanna gladly takes the bong and the lighter, and mari’s grin is contagious. it was nice to have someone to share with, even it was just sitting in a parked car and getting high. anything was better than being alone.
she laughs, “ me, careful? fat chance, mari. ” she takes a hit, and realizes mari was right to warn. she tries to hide a cough, “ jeez, ” comes out low and broken, as geanna waves away some smoke that wafts toward her face. “ i love weed with a side of lighter fluid, ” lips pull into a mischievous grin.
For Munday, anonymously ask the mun something you want to know about them, their portrayal, or what they will/won’t write.
Especially if it’s something you’re too shy or afraid to ask off-anon.
(Admin note: If you reblog this from someone, try to send them something, even if it’s just a basic question. The mun will really appreciate it.)
i saw that ‘unnecessarily detailed dislikes’ thing and while i’m too lazy to do that i will say that flynn does not like being called junior. it’s definitely his least favorite nickname. he’ll let his parents call him that, hank and marie too because he knows he can’t stop them anyway, but if you’re not them and you call him junior he gon be real annoyed.
also geanna purposefully calls him junior because she knows he hates it and he always gives her the annoyed side eye for it.
SKINS SENTENCE STARTERS — quotes from seasons one and two of the e4 series. contains nsfw themes. feel free to make alterations.
tell me you love me.
who’s stupid enough to fuck [name]?
look, everyone’s gay!
you’re the first person who broke my heart.
for the rest of my life, you will always be the one who hurt me the most.
the sky is blue and the grass is green… everything’s cool.
jesus, we’re in trouble.
that’s the great thing about the universe: unpredictable.
i’m just wondering why you’re overreacting like this.
i don’t love [name]! I never loved [name]. i love you.
you’re not a fuck-up.
i had everything i wanted and i lost it all. hurts like fuck.
my life never made any sense to me until i met you.
it’s kinda easy when you’ve got nothing, because nothing can’t be taken away from you.
i was perfectly happy killing myself, alright, but then you asked me to try.
it’s like a fucking episode of the o.c. in here.
no matter what i try, i can’t stop pissing everyone off.
why don’t you get a life of your own and stay out of mine, okay?
you try it: no mum, no dad, all on your own.
what would you do when everything is just so fucked up and you don’t know what to do?
sometimes i wonder why you even bother to get up in the morning.
fuck it, i’m inadequate. what can you do?
i think i might love you.
you’re my best friend, but i really don’t know what the fuck you’re on about most of the time.
i’ll give you head. that’s friendship.
there you go, always saying no.
don’t you wish you could go back to when you hadn’t lost anything?
i do things, you worry about them.
i’m really, really sorry for being a slut, okay?
every once in a while when a bird lands closer to her than it should, or a butterfly floats by, geanna will think it’s her mom. she might even talk to it for awhile, or just be like ‘hey mom, miss you’
@downoverabq
music is blaring from her speakers, her door wide open as smoke billows out from her car. a bong placed in her lap and sunglasses over her eyes, she looks like your typical stoner . . but the bitter tinge of vinegar seeps into the air, barely disguised by the sour smell of weed. she locks eyes with you, hues hazy as she lowers sunglasses to meet your gaze. ‘ wa – want a hit? ‘ a lazy grin creeps onto features, lifting the bong from her lap to offer to you.
the day is drab --- completely void of any stimulation as she gets ready for another shift at the market, which is poised to make the feeling even worse. but like an angel coming through parting clouds with a bong in hand --- mari offers her a hit. it wasn’t always safe to take drugs from just whoever, but geanna had no concern for self preservation.
eyes light up and she smiles, like a kid who’s coming downstairs on christmas morning, all because at least it’s something to do. and who knows, maybe there will be consequences, something to send a real feeling through in the midst of mundanity. “ the day i say no you’ll know something’s really up with me. ”
i have an au where geanna decides to do a spooky ritual and then fucks it up and becomes possesed by a demon pls write it with me thx
if i made elliot schrader a by request muse on here,,, would y’all want to write with him 👀
being really into breaking bad when you’re a teenager may result in making up a whole teenage drama subplot with your ocs, walt jr, and his friends
The Virgin Suicides (1999)
apologygcrl
jane hates to be such a pessimist in front of other people, it starts to show her true self. something she’s worked hard to push deep down. but, sometimes, she can’t help what leaves her lips. ❛ guess not. i mean, not everyone ends up alone but most people do. ❜
there’s a little shrug. she’s been intimate with just how bad life can be. being alone may not have been the worst thing that happened to her, not by a long shot, but she’s been alone a long time, and she’d do anything to change that.
“ you never know, maybe you won’t end up like most people. ” her attempt at being positive seems futile, but she’d keep it up anyway. “ it only takes one other person to make the difference. just one. ”
painmade
JESSE NODS, LOOKING more at Geana than at any of the paintings. He seems supremely disinterested in all of them, almost seeming to avoid looking at all of them. He can feel all of the eyes he’d left in the canvases boring down on him, staring, damning. He rolls his shoulders, visibly uncomfortable. He visibly perks up, though, when she mentions that she knew Walter White, somehow… or, at least, knew of him enough that she knows who he really was, not just who he presented himself to be to others.
“That guy?” he follows her gaze to a portrait of Walt.
He stares for as long as he can, finding himself still unable to, even in his death.
“He looks like an asshole. Did you know him?”
He turns his attention back to Geana, grateful for the rest, though he still feels suffocated surrounded by all of his nightmares this way. Even the portraits of himself that he’d done had been so ruined by his own psyche that most of them look like a madman had taken a knife to the canvas and sewn it back together again with red thread.
“You don’t think it means anything? That’s new. Most people won’t shut up about what they think it means.”
she’s hesitant to answer his question, it almost feels shameful to have known walter white. she’s content to pretend, at least a little, like she’s just one of many albquerque natives who were only slightly aware of him before he became heisenberg. “ he had the whole member of the community thing going on. he was my chemistry teacher in high school. the guy in these looks a whole lot like him, at least. ” she never actually took his class, thankfully. brows raise, “ the guy was a real hard ass. ”
a beat of silence, as eyes glance over to a portrait of skyler, the one that she’s been eyeing all night, that provides her with the smallest sense of relief. there were so many monsters on the walls around them, but not her. it was like gasping for air after drowning, looking at the painting of skyler. hues turn back to jesse, “ you don’t have to know him to get that he’s an asshole, anyway. this guy who paints him, he hates the dude, that’s why he always looks so scary in the paintings. ‘cause he’s ugly on the inside, or whatever. ”
she catches her observation, slouching, “ okay, so maybe they do have meaning. but not the kind of meaning all of the assholes in this place are talking about. they think that this stuff is beautiful, or something. it’s not. they’re ugly and painful. pain can’t be beautiful. ”
© ‘ THIS IS BULLSHIT! ’
pls give geanna plots w ur characters !!
Halloweentown (1998) dir. Duwayne Dunham
painmade
JESSE NEVER THOUGHT he’d be caught dead in Albuquerque ever again. There’s just too much history here for him to really handle – too much trauma. Too much destruction. He can’t even round a corner without seeing the final resting place of some poor soul. Someone who could have been spared, had they not been swept up in Heisenberg’s awful schemes. Someone that he knew. Someone he loved.
Most of the time, gallery showings are a bore. Jesse only attends them to remind himself what not to do with his money. Making millions of dollars off of paintings hasn’t stopped him from wearing the same blue jeans and jacket every single day – hasn’t stopped him from living in a cabin that runs on firewood and doesn’t have internet or cable. Half the reason is because he doesn’t want to draw attention to himself. The other half is because of all the pretentious fucks that come to his showings and show him just how awful money makes people act.
People who wear animal furs and cashmere, who sit in front of a painting and try to dissect every little brush stroke. ‘Oh, see, this color represents anger,’ and ‘the use of a liner brush to make these thick lines, so interesting,’ Like Jesse knows the first fucking thing about the brushes he uses. He got most of them wholesale or from garage sales, barely cleaned them, and mostly, he just uses his hands and a palette knife.
Even worse are the self-proclaimed art critics who seem to think they know the first fucking thing about anything on these canvases. Like they know what the artist ‘felt’ while he painted. He wants to take them all by the shoulders and shake them and shout ‘this painting evokes a feeling of entrapment because I was literally trapped in a cage for six months! It’s not a metaphor!’
But of course, he can’t do that. So he just sits back and observes until he gets a headache. Every once in a while, someone interesting comes along, and sometimes he’ll talk with them – and this girl is definitely interesting. She’s not dressed like the others, she’s the youngest one in the room, and she seems to be really seeing what Jesse had painted.
“What do you think it means?”
She responds harshly, and he can’t help but crack a smile behind those scarred lips, leaning onto the handle of a mop that he found in the back. She reminds him of himself, not so long ago. What do you think?
“I dunno. I don’t like lookin’ at most of ‘em. They give me the creeps.”
she’s content to use him as a distraction, maybe talking to him for awhile will lessen the sick feeling in her stomach enough to help her stick around until the exhibition is over. no matter how much the work itself nauseated her with it’s familiarity, she’d expose herself to it again and again, just to get rid of the hold it had on her. she’d been nearly obsessed since marie had her told of jailbird. she had tried to find out all she could about who the artist was, but that added up to nothing. geanna had theories and suspicions, most of which she chalked up to looking for an answer that was more interesting than the truth may have actually been.
her computer is filled with whatever images of these paintings that are available online. it adds up to hundreds. for some reason, she’d never seen the piece they were standing in front of. she wonders what the deep red barrel means.
geanna has to remind herself to be present in the conversation, “ i don’t blame you. they’re creepy as shit. ” she says, eyes now actively avoiding any artwork, “ the guy that keeps showing up in these, he’s an asshole. there wouldn’t be so many of him if he wasn’t. ” she shrugs, “ and, i guess i don’t think there’s any real meaning to it. it’s just a painting of someone this jailbird guy can’t get off his mind. ”