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@enplein
Source
ATTENTION
If you see this you are OBLIGATED to reblog w/ the song currently stuck in your head :)
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=FUJbb7B8bgs
((This song is SO GOOD.))
((Had this stuck in my head since Saturday lol))
Reblog if I can jump into an RP with you via Ask
Love seeing little pawprints. So fucking magical. There was a little guy here.
@enplein
"Here's my contender although this one is a little bit big!"
“That’s amazing. I need. Six of them.”
It was the hair that caught Nero’s attention. Followed shortly by the weapons - and he let out an impressed whistle.
Meirl
Reblog this if you don't mind other muns mentioning your muse(s) in other threads!
Nero glances up, then leans back slowly. "Mondays, am I right?" (( hi hello how are you))
The demon cracks open one eye and looks lazily towards the stranger barely moving a muscle.His arms are crossed, his upper body leaned right back to the wall but his pelvis held a little way forward so he was sitting in a lazy almost laying down position on the floor, and his tail curled around his feet similarly to the way cats would position theirs.“It’s Monday?… What happened to the weekend?” he asks closing his eyes again and shifts his body to sit up a little straighter.“Oh yeah, that’s right… I got wasted!”His eyes open again and the demon slowly picks himself up off the floor, sober now but feeling a little rough.(Hello!!! :D sorry for the late reply, I had to vanish for a little while there)
“I know what a burrito is, captain obvious!” the demon flashed his fangs briefly and furrowed his brows. It was less of a threatening gesture though and one more of mild annoyance. “But… yeah… well, more like 600 or something now, but who has time to count? Age is just a number, ain’t nothing special.” Carlos chose to ignore the next sarcastic comment about the apartment building, but his eyes flicked back to the other’s at their curiosity of him being a demon and the fact it was their… day off. Carlos’s eyes slowly widened in realization as he put two and two together. “Wait wait wait, hold on! You’re telling me that you’re a…?” he pointed to the other and paused looking him up and down quickly, and then turned around pushing his fingers into his hair. “Yep, that’s about right, that sounds like my luck! I passed out on a damn demon hunter’s doorstep didn’t I?” he turns to face him again in disbelief. It’d been lucky for him that this guy didn’t seem overly devoted to hunting any demon they saw like some others were. … And the demon would be keeping his mouth shut about his monthly feeding habits. “Well since you ain’t holding a crossbow at me or anything at me, I’m Carlos” he held his hand out to shake with the other’s. “So, you got a burrito or what?” a cheeky grin climbed onto his expression returning to the previous offer of the burrito. Something it seemed he had in common with the other was a willingness to see how far he could push it.
"I’d say that’s old for a demon but I really have no idea.” Nero shrugged, pocketing the keys and giving Carlos another once-over. “Could be worse. You could look like the fuckin’ Crypt Keeper. Or Yoda.” His ears were pointy after all.
He waited patiently for the wheels to turn in the demon’s head as it put two and two together. “It’s a family business. Keeps the bills paid and the obituaries less than a page in the paper.” Blue eyes narrowed after a moment, though he kept his casual posture. “Not all demons are bad, I guess. So long as you behave, it shouldn’t be a problem.” Nero’s lips curled into a smirk and he rolled a shoulder casually.
“Six hundred years old, and your name’s Carlos?” There were ten different Carlos’es at the local fish market. “And a crossbow? Really? What, are we in the dark ages now? Feeling a little nostalgic?” He eyed the offered hand for a minute before shaking it.
Any other day, this would be a very different interaction. Instead, Nero rolled his eyes and shook his head, stepping past Carlos.
“I told you. Up the street. Guess I could pay, if it keeps you out of trouble. I can’t just have you lying around. There’s kids and stuff.”
Send a 👫and I’ll write four headcanons I have about our muse’s relationship
Nero glances up, then leans back slowly. "Mondays, am I right?" (( hi hello how are you))
The demon cracks open one eye and looks lazily towards the stranger barely moving a muscle.His arms are crossed, his upper body leaned right back to the wall but his pelvis held a little way forward so he was sitting in a lazy almost laying down position on the floor, and his tail curled around his feet similarly to the way cats would position theirs.“It’s Monday?… What happened to the weekend?” he asks closing his eyes again and shifts his body to sit up a little straighter.“Oh yeah, that’s right… I got wasted!”His eyes open again and the demon slowly picks himself up off the floor, sober now but feeling a little rough.(Hello!!! :D sorry for the late reply, I had to vanish for a little while there)
“A burrito?” the demon’s eyes fixed on the stranger at the mention of food. It’d be more sensible to accept the water and think about food later, but then again Carlos wasnt exactly the best when it came to getting his priorities in line and had a track record for being persuaded by food. “Do you have one?” Now stood up straight the demon dusted himself down. “I don’t need a mom and pop place… I learned to tie my own shoe laces over 500 years go…” he had no idea what a mom and pop place was, but to him it sounded like somewhere that took care of kids. Carlos looked around taking in his surroundings. He had no recollection of how he got here or where he even was, but as soon as he realized he was in some strange hallway his eyes met with the stranger’s again. “This your place? I didn’t break in did I? … Listen, don’t call the cops or demon hunters or anything, I’ll leave peacefully” he held his hands up as he spoke this time to show the stranger he had no tricks up his sleeve. His voice was calm and sort of fed up sounding, but that was just his hangover. In actual fact he just couldn’t be dealing with the idea of having to flee or use any vigorous movement while he felt so rough. “I ain’t hurting shit with my head like this… well, except myself so it seems” He put his hands down again, and his gaze moved to the floor trying to avoid looking into the light while his eyes felt so sensitive.
Well, at least the guy spoke English. “It’s food. You know. That you eat.” Nero stepped past the stranger and unlocked his tiny little mailbox. Nothing. The demon (?) continued to talk as he did so, Nero nodding along and half-listening.
“Wait. Five hundred years? Seriously?” He turned to face the guy again, incredulous. “It’s an apartment building. You know. I’m pretty sure those have been around longer than you. You probably walked in the open front entrance and then passed out. S’not like they lock the place.” Especially not with him living there - that had been why the rent was so cheap. He ran a hand through his hair, still a bit confused by all this so early in the morning. He’d just wanted to get his mail - and maybe breakfast.
“Ah. So you are a demon.” Solved that one. On one hand... breakfast. On the other... an avoidable fight with a (hopefully) harmless demon. Five hundred years wasn’t too bad, considering Sparda was over two thousand. “It’s my day off, so chill. So long as you don’t start ripping into random people I won’t smash your face in. Besides, I’m pretty sure you’re hungover.”
Demons could get hungover. Considering how much he’d seen Dante drink... this guy had probably consumed the whole distillery. “Name’s Nero. You probably should get something to drink or eat. I think that’s supposed to help with hangovers. Or you could wait it out. There’s a park up the street.”
Nero glances up, then leans back slowly. "Mondays, am I right?" (( hi hello how are you))
The demon cracks open one eye and looks lazily towards the stranger barely moving a muscle.His arms are crossed, his upper body leaned right back to the wall but his pelvis held a little way forward so he was sitting in a lazy almost laying down position on the floor, and his tail curled around his feet similarly to the way cats would position theirs.“It’s Monday?… What happened to the weekend?” he asks closing his eyes again and shifts his body to sit up a little straighter.“Oh yeah, that’s right… I got wasted!”His eyes open again and the demon slowly picks himself up off the floor, sober now but feeling a little rough.(Hello!!! :D sorry for the late reply, I had to vanish for a little while there)
"Kind of a waste of a weekend, but hey. You do you.” He was a little curious as to why some... demon? Creature? Person. Was just sitting in the hallway, on the floor. The tail was definitely new. Kinda cool, in a familiar kind of way.
“You good? Need a bottle of water? A burrito?” Hopefully the newcomer wasn’t violent. This was the second to last shirt that didn’t have a hole in it. “There’s a pretty good mom and pop place up the street. Don’t ask questions if you look... you know. Unusual.”
Nero rubbed the back of his neck with his good hand. “So long as you don’t try to hurt anyone, we won’t have problems.”
((it’s okay! I am. Waiting for things to download.))
Case in short, moving from your ‘house’ to a shitty studio apartment with too many windows has it’s drawbacks.
Annoying downstairs neighbors behind, the family above’s got a kid that plays the tuba.
Every. Damn. Night.
From like 6 to 8 pm, which - hey. At least the kid’s learning. I just wish the goddamn plaster wasn’t so thin.
So far the only perks are these.
The landlady has six or seven cats that are all the cuddliest bastards you’ve ever met
There’s a garden right to the left in a vacant lot so I get to see plants every day instead of just distant sea + concrete
Pretty sure I have somehow gained the loyalty of that one flock of crows in every fucking town
The houseplant the previous tenant left is NOT cursed and hasn’t died yet
sums it up. Oh. And I have a washer and dryer IN my apartment. hell yes.
Reblog if you actually like my blog (*˙︶˙*)☆*°
Dear Neighbors:
This is a posting of what I don’t want to hear, see, deal with.
“Hey, Nero! Can you help me fix---”
Use a phonebook. Call a plumber. I DON’T KNOW HOW TO FIX A LEAKING SINK PIPE, HERE, TAKE MY PAYCHECK, CALL A PROFESSIONAL please, dear fucking god, don’t ASK me to look at your PLUMBING.
Unless your sink is inhabited by demons, or somehow a portal to my fucking Van is in there, I’m not going to be able to fix it.
Why does this happen. It’s 10 am. I’m only awake because I’m typically working overnight.
Send “Shield” for my muse’s reaction to yours placing themselves between my muse and danger.
Send “sword” for my muse to put themselves between your muse and danger.
enplein replied to your post: “I told you that was a bad idea.” (Dante or…
“May your jacket rest in peace.”
“I’m running out of money again…”
“Have you thought about... I dunno... being more careful?” He pauses, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully. “Taking up leatherworking?”