Sweet Seals For You, Always
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
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祝日 / Permanent Vacation
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todays bird
NASA
Stranger Things
Cosimo Galluzzi
if i look back, i am lost
AnasAbdin
styofa doing anything
Keni
taylor price
we're not kids anymore.
titsay
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Peter Solarz
Mike Driver
will byers stan first human second
seen from Vietnam
seen from United States
seen from Canada
seen from Brazil
seen from Canada
seen from Australia
seen from Saudi Arabia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Romania
seen from United States
seen from Russia
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from Saudi Arabia
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
@duckyofweirdness
Tis Me, Ducky
Hello Internet, welcome to my very first Tumblr post. :D
Here you will find whump, more whump, lots of angst, and any other short stories that come into my head without a full-length plot. That is... if I can ever SIT DOWN to write!!
That is all. *puts down megaphone*
Ducky, Out.
April Write-A-Thon: Day 30
Tis has arrived!!! The final day!!!!! Now, because I do what I want (and my mom said I could XD) I am changing the last prompt a little. It is supposed to be my favorite day rewritten in a new genre but I switched it to my favorite day NEXT INSTALLMENT! Here is Huntsman and Prey pt.2!!
Continued from: Day 2
***
Day 30: Favorite Day Pt. 2 Then the wooden barricade came down.
The boy crept farther into the corner of the choir box. His side burned. He clutched it harder and held his breath to stifle the scream radiating inside of him. One by one the planks blocking the entrance were ripped from their nailed positions. Only one needed to be removed to allow the hunting dogs into the church.
Their nails raked against the floorboards. Then stopped.
Had it not been for the blaring beat of their heart, the boy might have heard the dogs sniff around for his scent. They picked it up quickly, approaching closer and closer to the choir box. The boy’s sight began to darken around the edges. His shivering had stopped, but in no way, because he was warm.
Another board came down.
The dogs were just on the other side of the wall. Deep growls set in their throats. The boy forced himself to focus. He had to run. He had done it before. He just had to… His body refused to move. Tears welled in his eyes.
‘Work. Please. Just one more time.’
His arms braced the ground and attempted to push himself up from the carpeted floor. Arms violently shaking. Adrenaline was gone, as was any fight. The only thing left to do was decide if he wanted to curl up for a final moment of comfort or give the beast full access to end him quickly. Then a darker thought came: What if the huntsman got him first. A shiver racked his spine. He didn't want to go that way. He knew what hunters did to prey. They were methodical. They had fun with it.
He had to make sure the dogs would be the ones to kill him. Which meant that he had to make them very angry.
April Write-A-Thon: Day 29
Bit of a short one but I like it!
***
Day 29: Goldfish In Boring Fish Bowl “It could be anything!” Goldie cried as he spun around the glass bowl.
“Or it could be exactly what it is,” Fishy said with boredom lacing his voice. He floated near the bottom, watching the outside world go by.
“You are right! It could be what it is, which is nothing, so that means it is everything! This calls for a song!”
“Please no.”
“Oooooooooooh who lives in a pineapple under the sea? Undah da see. Don where it's weta take it from meeee. See the line where the sky meets the sea. It calls me.”
“Please stop.”
“Time for the second verse!”
“I wish I was a cracker.”
April Write-A-Thon: Day 28
My last break day *wipes away tear* I shall cherish it... Ok done. Now time for Ducks!
April Write-A-Thon: Day 27
Almost there people!! Here is another Wild Card.
***
Day 27: House Plant
I watch them come by every day. All the children come in with their parents and gawk at the flowers on display.
“That one!” they cry. “I want that one.”
Sometimes the parents indulge their child's request and sometimes they don't. When they do my heart thumps. It's happy, yet painful. Those are my friends, going to new houses, destined to be loved and cared for, but I am just a cactus. No one loves a cactus.
However, there was a moment, a glimpse of hope, when a child called our their desires, and for once their finger was pointed at my shelf. Even more, it was pointed at me. I stood straighter. Taller. Proud of my spines. As you should be, a cactus is beautiful and strong. My grandmother would say that to me if I had one.
My shelf was lower than the other, but it was the perfect height for the boy in front of me. The boy with scratched knees and dirt caked on his face. His hands reached out to me. I would have done the same if circumstances were different, but I didn't need to. He grabbed hold of my pot and looked at me. Admiration stirred in his eyes. I was picked! He picked me! There was no time to say goodbye to the others that lined the shelf I had called home. I was being swept away and taken to the checkout counter.
Above his head, I was held, out to his mother. I could barely see over the counter but I looked nonetheless. The boy’s mother turned to me. I smiled wide. She snarled. Then she gasped. Then she screamed.
Before I knew it, I was falling from the boy's hands listening to the woman berate the man at the counter.
“How dare you have such dangerous things where a child can reach them! I should have you sued!”
I had no idea what ‘sued’ meant but it didn't matter. The ground had come, sooner than I would have hoped, and my bright red pot shattered.
No one gasped. No one cried. The woman pulled her son away from me and my, now, crooked spines. She paid for her things and stormed out. My little boy, I mean the little boy looked back once, then never again.
Time passes slower, or was it faster? Time passes when you are on the linoleum floor, shattered and broken. I lost any care for what happened after. Every plant knows what happens after you break; recycle and compost.
So, when I was picked up and taken away, I tried to think nothing of it. I was forced to when, not only did I pass the compost bin and the recycle, but I was placed into a styrofoam coffee cup.
“I will have to do better when I get you home,” a voice said.
I looked around and saw that the voice came from the man at the checkout counter, who looked much more like a boy than a man. I couldn't be sure that it was him, but, from the little I saw at the counter, he was wearing the same beanie.
“Listen, I have to go back to work, so I will have to leave you in my locker for now.”
He kept talking to me, not at me. It felt nice. I had no clue what a ‘locker’ was but I soon found out it was a dark, stinky (but not the good kind), and small room with a door. At least it wasn't the compost. So I waited.
I waited until it became even darker and the sound of the crowd outside silenced. When the locker finally opened, it was the same boy.
“Oh good. You're still here,” He smiled as he took me out, then the items that had been surrounding me. It was another long wait as he locked up the store.
I was outside for the first time.
It was marvelous. I wished that the sun hadn't gone away and I could have felt it. The boy took me to a moving object and we when to his home. His home was much smaller than mine, but he didn't seem to be bothered by it. Once inside, we were greeted by a strange animal. It was all black and was missing a tail.
“I'm home Milky.”
‘Milky’ vibrated and snuggled around the boy’s legs. He let the animal do its routine and then went to get its food from the kitchen. From there it was pretty simple. The boy got the animal's food, then his own, then he watched a show on the television. It took a while until he brought his dishes back to the sink that he remembered me.
“Let's get you a new home.”
He opened cabinets and pulled out a white porcelain mug with a mustache on it. “This should do,” he muttered to himself. I was transferred over to the new pot. It was roomy. I had lost most of my dirt in the fall, the only stuff I had left was what stuck to my roots. The boy set me down and walked outside, coming back with a handful of new soil.
I was given the most delicious water, my dirt was packed in tight, and I was brought to a shelf overlooking the living room with a window behind my back.
The boy looked at me and smiled, something he must have done often, but it gave me a better chance to look at him. He had taken off his beanie and a mop of black hair was freed. Black seemed to be his color. It was under his eyes. It was all he wore. And it colored the donuts in his ears.
“That won't do.”
My inspection of him stopped. Partly because my heart did, and partly because he walked away. He must have noticed the spines, on the top of my head, were missing. Gone. Broken. Left on the floor of the store waiting to be swept up.
He was gone for a while.
I had begun to think that he would never come back, but he did.
“You look like my step-dad. Balding.”
His words made him laugh. He came over to the shelf I was on and showed me what was in his hands. “I couldn't decide which one fit best for the occasion.” He held up three crocheted items. “What do you like? The wizard hat? The nurse hat? Or the cowboy?”
I would have shrugged, but he kept talking.
“They might be a little big, ‘cause I made them to fit Milky, but they should work until I can get around to making you a new one.” He paused and looked at the hats in his hands. “I think you are more of a cowboy.”
The hat was set atop my head. It would have consumed me had it not been for my remaining spikes.
“You look good. I think I’ll name you… Chip. Kinda like Cookie, but not so generic. Anyway, hello Chip my name is Tyler. A pleasure to meet you.”
He took hold of one of my spines between his fingers and shook it.
I think I am going to like it here.
April Write-A-Thon: Day 26
I am part Suess, as you may know. The words I make must rhyme to flow. I know that poetry can be more that, but if you must, blame the cat.
***
Day 26: Salvador Dali Painting
(Ghost of Vermeer of Delft Which Can Be Used As a Table)
I live to serve, it’s in my bones. A servant’s quarters I call my home.
A maid, a cook, all I can be, but I prefer to hold the cutlery.
Plates and cups and spoons galore! With me around, no one shall eat on the floor.
Extend my leg with poise and grace. Firm and steady; A solid base.
I pour the tea, I butter the bread. I do it all! Who cares if I’m dead?
The night goes on, I do not tire. I sing, I serve, I play the lyre.
Many can sit. All can stay! No need to plead or beg or pray.
Most will say that this is nothing more than a fable, but those who know, know I am part table.
April Write-A-Thon: Day 25
Here we goooooo! (”From the magic within our hearts...”)
Did a prompt. Had fun. Realized I didn’t follow exact. Didn’t care. Bon Apatite!
***
Day 25: New Character Profile
Tumble Account Setup:
Username?
What should it be? This is what everyone will see me by… Is my name old school? I mean, we are bringing back the classics. Why not?
Damian Walsh
Password?
IH8Passwords!@
Welcome, Damian Walsh! Now just a few questions to get to know you, so you can find your perfect match.
What is your age?
24 yrs
How tall are you?
6’0
What was your first kiss like?
Well, that’s invasive. Is there an option to not answer? No. What happens if I have never had one? I will just put a conversation starter.
Ask me about the ‘Fight in grade school.’
That should be good. Adds mystery. Next question.
What do you look for in a woman?
They really want me to fail, don't they?
*Move over. I got this.
No. I am NOT letting my sister make my account. No way.
*This whole thing was my idea anyway. So move over!
Ugh.
*So, What do you look for in a woman?
I-
*Never mind. We need to make you seem dateable and indecisiveness is not attractive. Let me work my magic.
What I look for in a woman are brains. The ability to hold an intelligent conversation and delve into the deeper topics of life. I am looking for my forever. I want to be able to communicate with her. Share everything. Hard conversations don't scare me. They impress me.
That sounds fake.
*It sounds romantic. Now be quiet.
What is your eye color?
That seems unnecessary, and a little late.
*What color are your eyes?
The same as yours. Brown.
My eyes are the epitome of swirled dark chocolate. A fallen tree by the sea where the water laps the bark.
That is excessive.
*Shut up.
What activities do you like to spend your time doing?
I like cooking.
*Shut- Actually I can use that. Finally, you are good for something.
Hey!
My passions lie in the culinary arts. I strive to better myself. Honing my skills to enrich the lives and diets of those around me.
*Give me something else.
Uh… I like to-
*I got it! Walks on the beach. Classic.
Even I know that is overused.
*That is because everyone else didn't have me. Duh.
I also like walks, preferably by the beachside where I can hear the waves crashing and see the sun glint off the waves. I dream of having a companion to share this with and enjoy their company.
Not bad.
*It's amazing. You don't know anything. Time for a quickfire round.
Navy blue.
Never, but I hope to.
I find it distasteful but admire a girl with exotic tastes.
That's false.
*I'm making you sound better than you are.
That’s lying.
*Honey. You know nothing of the internet.
Rude.
*Last question.
What would you like to say to your potential date?
Um. Hi?
*You're killing me.
I look forward to meeting you. Hope you have a great day, as mine is already better because of you.
*Done.
Cheesy.
*You're cheesy. I'm a genius. Now we just wait.
I'm not holding my breath.
*Shut up.
Bye.
*Idiot.
.
.
.
.
(5 New Messages)
April Write-A-Thon: Day 24
Aye Aye welcome to another break day! Today we will have three duck pictures, because I said so *sticks tongue out* so there. Feliz Navidad!
April Write-A-Thon: Day 23
Wassup!!! (*crickets*) Glad to hear the enthusiasm... Anyyyy Who. Day 23! This is a rewrite, but with a twist because I didn’t like the (full) original prompt. So here is my take on a love letter. (NOT by sherlock, unless you want it to be *shrug*)
***
Day 23: Rewrite Least Fav Day (Love Letter #19)
I am gray, ashen. I am the brown dried leaves that crunch underfoot. You are none of these things. You are light.
We are from different worlds. Separated by a thin line, a door that rarely goes both ways. But I see you; all the wonderful things you do and create. I am enamored by the beauty that you radiate. I wonder what would happen if we were to collide. Would you bring a lively fire, a resuscitating breath, or a beating heart to my emaciated soul? Would I get to experience the sunlight that forms at your fingertips and illuminates your smile?
Or would I hinder you and dull your spirit? Corrupting what you are; Infecting you with shadows?
Or could we create something never seen before?
A color that only appears when sun meets the sea. A barren plain made new by fauna. Dried bones clothed in beauty.
I shall wait for that day. The day two become one. The day the line disappears and the door remains open. When the world releases its dependence; leaving me to be the only one left to receive you. I shall wait until the day that every one of your gifts that has crossed the threshold can be reciprocated.
I am gray, ashen. I am Death.
But you; you are Life.
April Write-A-Thon: Day 22
Hello Internet!!! Today is another wild card day so I chose a cool prompt... Also it somehow turned out to be a good Earth Day prompt as well... Yay me! Enjoy!
***
Day 22: Deep Underground There Lives…
Deep underground there lives a tree. This tree is tended to by the Moles.
No. Not the blind, long-nailed mammals that live under the earth.
The Moles are the inspiration for the ground-dwelling animals, yet they are much more sophisticated. Each Mole has a job designated to them. All the jobs have to do with aiding the overworld. The most coveted of these jobs is the Sprouter. It is the only job that gets to feel the warmth of the surface. A Mole will never reach the surface as their eyes cannot handle the intense sunlight, hence the blind attribute, though they are anything but.
The Sprouters climb just below the surface and fetch the seeds that the humans plant, they are never plated deep enough. Though that is not the fault of humans. Only Moles can reach the tree that helps plants grow.
Once a seed is brought from the surface down to the tree it gets handed off to the Tenders. These Moles foster the seed, giving it sap from the tree to make it grow, before it is given back to the Sprouters to return to its place.
The tree’s sap has healing and growing properties that cannot be explained. And no one ever tries.
Tenders were the Moles that were tasked to dote on the tree. Pruning its leaves and watering the roots that hung from the ceiling. They were viewed as the most important job of the Moles, but, with such a big responsibility, it was not most wanted. Tenders got the best seats, got to eat first, but they were always the last to bed, and the first to wake up.
The lowest job of the Moles was a Braider. These Moles were in charge of root management. Twisting roots to the closest water source. Winding roots to richer soil. This meant that every Braider was always covered in dirt. The Sprouters had a talent for being dirt-repellent, another thing no one questioned, but Braiders were magnets for the soot of the earth.
They were the fastest of any Mole. They beat out earthworms, gophers, and ants.
Each Mole had a job, a very important job, but keeping them there was not easy.
April Write-A-Thon: Day 21
Enter in the mind of Sylvie. The zombies lurk outside. And to think, they are only at day 14... I remember back then. Good times with the Bookshop POV. Never mind that! Time for the APOCOLAPSE!!!!
***
Day 21: Zombie Apocalypse Diary Entry
Day 14: They are still outside.
Danny said they would go away eventually and we could get out of our house. The safe zone is still states away and every day the dead population keeps growing.
I’m getting hungry. I am tired of eating canned beans. Who even buys canned beans for emergencies? Seems like mom and dad wanted us to fail. We could ask them, but seeing as they are outside, and want to eat us, it would be better to assume.
I really want to go to the beach.
Can sharks become reanimated as well? I don't want to see that.
I wish I knew where Rooster (our dog, in case you forget) went. I miss him.
Love, Sylvie
April Write-A-Thon: Day 20
Soooo... Little late (Would anyone even know if I didn’t say anything??? I might never know.) Anyway.... It was a break day! Enjoy some ducks :D
April Write-A-Thon: Day 19
The story on today’s menu is special, specifically because it is fanfiction. Anybody heard of the show Elementary? With Sherlock Holmes? Its amazing and I have almost run out of episodes... so maybe this is how I decide to cope. Ok?
***
Day 19: Love Letter From Fav Film Character
Your mind complexes me. It takes all the logic inside of me and fashions its own truth. I am undone.
Eyes are just eyes, yet yours are set apart. They see things that no others can. They speak when words don't suffice. Illusion or not, they see me as a man of character, honor, and brilliance. I am hypnotized.
Mathematics, linguistics, and micro-expressions; are all languages I understand. This feeling jumping around my chest is foreign.
You listen. You speak. You're silent and loud.
I would do anything for you.
Put my life on the line, my freedom, and my name. You are my partner. My friend. The source of my agape.
Animabus nostris innexa.
April Write-A-Thon: Day 18
Time for a Pup!!! That pup will eventually get a name..... but I might save that to write in a book ;)
***
Day 18: Snowy Alaskan Forest
Snow fell in shining sparklets. The world outside the den was a white playground. Pup, as mother fondly called each of her children, though they all had different inflections, stood at the entrance of the den watching the show.
His siblings lay snuggled against their mother's belly claiming its warmth. Pup couldn't see how they could ignore what was happening right before their eyes. He bounced around as the wind changed and brought snowflakes inside. They fell on his nose, letting him admire them for only a second before disappearing.
Pup looked back at his mother, their eyes meeting. His mother always had kind eyes. Ones that spoke every right word without needing to make a sound. He begged to go outside and be in the action. She shook her head, but in a laughing way and stood up. The other pups whined at the loss of her body heat. Her head gestured to the siblings that they were to go outside with her. Tails started to wag and, once their mother made the first step to check the coast, the children ran outside.
The snow chilled their paws. Not enough to hurt or be bothersome, but enough to be felt.
The white powder, having just come down, rose up to meet their bellies. They had to bounce and pounce to move forward. Pup didn't mind. He jumped around trying to catch snowflakes in his mouth. Small crystals dissolved on his tongue. It would have been easier to bite what was already on the ground, but before he could contemplate that idea, his brother nudged him. The only logical response was to push him back. His brother was much faster than he was and got away.
Pup pursued and others joined in. Their mother stood to the side, though she was quickly forced into the game, as a obstacle. They would dash through and around her legs. Sometimes she would nip at them as they passed by.
Soon the day faded away and the snow became to high, then it was time to go back inside. Mother lead the way. Pup walked slow to catch the last glimpses of snow, which mixed with the stars in the sky and one became the other.
Next to his mother’s belly, in the heart of the den, Pup had everything a wolf could ask for.
April Write-A-Thon: Day 17
Happy Easter everybody!!! Today we are venturing back to a previous story (Bookshop Owner, now named China) and getting some backstory!
Hope you enjoy!
***
Day 17: Screenplay Between Existing Characters
(Scene: Dark alleyway. China, a young girl, is just coming back from the store. She has a small bag of groceries and passes by the alley, stopping when she hears a cry.)
RUFUS: Get your slimy hands away from me!
(China investigates.)
CHINA: Hello? Is anybody there?
RUFUS: Yes! Help, please this animal is trying to- to- I don't know what it is attempting, but I don't like it!
CHINA: I’m coming to the rescue!
(She sets down her bag and goes into the alley finding a little kitten backed into a cardboard box with a large raccoon in front of him.)
Leave the kitty alone!
(There is no reply from the raccoon, only a prolonged stare.)
RUFUS: You heard the girl! Begone ruffian.
CHINA: Begone. Um- you heathen. This is my squire and I intend to protect him.
RUFUS: Excuse me? Your squire…. I am much more of a prince-
CHINA: Be quiet. I'm saving you.
RUFUS: Very well. We shall discuss this later.
(China raises her arms and waves them in the air. This action spooks the raccoon, and it runs away. She bends down to see the little kitten.)
CHINA: Are you okay?
RUFUS: Besides some developmental trauma…. No.
CHINA: Well, that's good- What?
RUFUS: As you can see, I am still cornered in a box.
CHINA: Oh. (Backs away) Sorry.
RUFUS: No. No, you mustn't worry. To be cornered is like that of a goose at the edge of a waterfall. You must learn to fly forward.
CHINA: (giggles) I like you. You speak funny.
RUFUS: (shocked) I'm surprised that you are surprised by my linguistics and not my verbal ability in its entirety.
CHINA: As I said, you speak funny. Are you hungry?
RUFUS: Am I- (thinking) Yes.
CHINA: Come with me. I just bought some milk.
RUFUS: Milk aids thirst not-
CHINA: Do you want it or not? You can eat or you can thirst.
RUFUS: I shall eat.
CHINA: Good. Up we go.
(She picks him up from the box.)
RUFUS: Woah what are you doing?!
CHINA: I live a long way from here. Do you want to walk?
RUFUS: I suppose not. Take me away my vessel!
CHINA: You're cute. I think you will like my house more than an alley.
(Rufus remains quiet, but a soft purr escapes him as he nestles in her arms. She walks back to the entrance of the alley and gathers her things before they both leave for home.)
END OF SCENE
April Write-A-Thon: Day 16
Made it to another break day!!!! Easter is tomorrow and life is good! Hope y’all doing awesome. Enjoy some duckies :D
April Write-A-Thon: Day 15
Here we gooooo!!! Just watched the Tinkerbell movie (Which has nothing to do with my story, but it was fun) and I’m ready to post another (wild card) day!
***
Day 15: Love At First Sight
Rochester POV:
I knew it when I looked across the room. A hundred or more people flooded the castle kitchen, running to and fro preparing for the banquet. I had never seen her before, not that I would know every member of my staff, but I at least knew that we had a dress code, and a dirt-crusted nightgown was not it.
Her hair shimmered in the moonlight, painted the exact color of the moon. Her features were young and graceful, I wished to get closer to see every detail. What color were her eyes? Did freckles dot her face? Were her lips soft, something I could only find out by touch?
I had to put a name to the angelic face before me. I went to step forward, and she flinched. It confused me until I realized that I had caught her stealing.
Evangeline POV:
My hand was hovering over the freshly baked bread. The heat rose from it and it traveled to my cheeks. His eyes bore into mine. From where I stood they were black as soot. His face was shrouded in shadows, but it framed him and his jawline quite well.
I should have been prepared for someone to notice me. I stuck out. Yet, I seemed invisible to everyone. Except him. His eyes sought me out. They ignited something inside of me. Questions bloomed in my chest. Who was he? What was his name?
I could have stood there, ignoring the agonizing gnawing in my stomach, for hours more, just to watch him and him alone. Then he moved.
My common sense came back to me. I grabbed the bread and saw him for what he really was: a threat. He sensed my hesitation, but made a gesture, as one would to a frightened child, in an attempt to calm me down. A smirk crawled across my face. I would have liked to stay. With him. In the kitchen. Surrounded by food. But I couldn't, not tonight. So I ran.