h
occasionally subtle
taylor price
#extradirty
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
AnasAbdin
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
if i look back, i am lost
Misplaced Lens Cap
we're not kids anymore.
No title available
oozey mess
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Cosmic Funnies
blake kathryn
tannertan36
cherry valley forever
Xuebing Du
Jules of Nature
seen from United States
seen from Nepal
seen from Nepal
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
@ilision
i’ve no heart strong and that’s why. sting to miss and to mourn love, wild at its path, sing.
i’m saving up all of my strength for when i finally fail at keeping you safe. when my last friend should leave me, it’s alright, easy.
impxster: thank u for existing tbh
( earthborn.) no, no my dear, thank you.
arielshepard said: { smooches your cheeks congrats on your milestone!!!! }
( earthborn. ) sobs, but the credit goes to you for following me in the first place, ah you're amazing.
orchestratiions said: ooc. congrats on the milestone !! c:
( earthborn. ) hugs my friend tight to be honest, i adore meeting people like you <3
singlasses said: i used to play neo myself — you’d do a rad job as him, i know! congrats on the milestone, doll.
( earthborn. ) oh my goodness, i watched the movies again this weekend and it sparked such a passionate desire in me, i adore the concept of the matrix ---- if i played him, i think it'd be one hell of a ride, especially since summer is coming up and my classes are only in the mornings and i'd have time on my hands to manage two blogs.
hopefully, this will be the first of many to come but i'm not quite a fan of follow-forever's since always at some point, let's admit, we won't be together forever, but for the time that we share now & for every person who takes an interest in me, I would just like to say thank you. so, thank you for my first hundred!
the first eight or so folk who are interested will receive either a graphic or a dozen or so personalized icons because it'd be nice to spread a more positive outlook everywhere!
corfirmus, ilision, magnxto, scxrletlass
❛iron burns my skin…❜
‘ ——that’s a terrible misfortune. I’m afraid I can’t take this off, however. It helps me breathe. ’
I once heard a tale of a man who split himself in two. The one part never changed at all; the other grew and grew. The changeless part was always true, the growing part was always new, and I wondered, when the tale was through, which part was me, and which was you.
Orson Scott Card, Children of the Mind (via someguysquotes)
The leader only has as much power as his followers give him [x]
he's running away this time and no one will stop him, he's sure he's calculated the right time to depart from the little hidey-hole he's made in the remnants of a building that has been he has called home for a day or two now. When he leaves, night has fallen and fewer a man will give a damn about why he's out, a little hoodlum, roaming the streets, eyes as black as the sky above. He is the little gamin, lost in a sea that will never care for him. hands knitted in his pockets, he breathes in, he breathes out, every step taking him farther and farther until ------
a miscalculation collides him with something firm and warm and human. He skitters back, rocked for a moment by the inertia of the other, but when he looks up, there is no surprise.
‘ ----move. y-you’re in my way. ’
' is that b l o o d ? ' ;&❜
{ injured starter meme }
‘ -------- what?’the question falls from his lips, though he has heard and the answer is somewhere lost within him. In its stead, he can only murmur a question in response, weary unconcern melting into something slow and sluggish to waken. It's as if he hasn't seen blood in a long, long time and he stares and he stares and he stares at the steady peter of red ooze drips down the length of his forearm, sanguine and shocking in color against the alabaster of his own skin. He hasn't been out in the sun very much, for the Colonies that he resides in don't need him very long, and again he finds himself traveling to another and another and yet another world, always the pensive little Mayor or leader to lead humanity in its exodus to worlds beyond. Sometimes, the people find him sordid, strange, why send a little boy to do what grown men should do? They never know that he is the one they call Ender, the Xenocide, the murderer, the one who inspired the Hive Queen & the Hegemon. He is the one who has written into existence the holy writ of the cosmos,older by far than all of them, yet so young, seemingly small and helpless ------ sometimes, curiosity turns into something black, something frustrated and angry and bleak as the chasm of precipice before a black hole. Sometimes, they don't trust him, despite what he claims to be. There is always the one who wants to know, know, know. And when they cannot know, for he is a boy of secrets as he is a child of prodigious legend that shall never grace existence again, they take to violence and sometimes --- sometimes, Ender gets hurt. Yet even his placid, detached nature gives way to something fragile underneath, for he is still human, bound in a way that is beyond his own understanding, bound by his philosophy. Sometimes he must fight back, sometimes blood must be drawn
--------------- it's not his, though he wishes it were.
‘ I'd prefer if you didn't ask questions, really. yes, I'm alright, it's not mines no, I'm not lost, I can find my way honestly, I'm fine. ’
" quite a subjective opinion— some could consider it flattering, perhaps, depending on how the stare is done. — —- —
i'd say the way you hold yourself is one i haven’t seen in children— before. “
‘ yes, well, well most children aren’t like me or better yet, I was never like most children when someone stares at me they’re either looking for reassurance, an answer, or some sign of Humanity ------- ----- ---
sometimes, it's because they hate me so you see where my relative inference comes from? It’s inconvenient to draw stares, especially from others like you ’
“I dunno’. Isn’t everything interesting?”
Merely prodding the other’s cognition, seemingly rooted in this notion of his.
A subtle sigh is offered he must give this jejune mold of an older male the privilage of at least that. Everything was interesting ----- but interest did not translate, always, into what was right and what was wrong. But if he thought about it, and oh, could Ender think, then the notion would spiral into endless pondering and searching and question. No, it was best sometimes to agree, study, perhaps quietly refute and rebuttle.
‘ yes, I guess everything is interesting ---- to some people. But I doubt I’m that interesting. I try not to be.’
" there are a number of things that aren’t very nice. “
‘ and people generally agree that staring happen to be one of them but, really, what's interesting you so much? ’
“I dunno’. Is it?”
‘ that’s a subjective question ---- but, usually, the answer is yes. do you happen to see something interesting? ’
Death is promised to the b e e [sprrelsk] who’s sting protects the colony, [ilision] was its life worth nothing more [queenlly] than honey for the queen? [rosaaeternum]
▒░ [ ♕ ] ░▒
It was on rare days that she’d ever let sunlight in her forest — in the tiny world she called hers. And on days like those she’d see the dead leaves on the ground turn into flowers and a courtyard emerge from the center of the forest, with pillars of white cement and a tall fountain that spouted out spring water.
And it was on days like these she’d let the forest open and lure in stressed folk — tired folk. The forest would mend them, give them the freshest of air and the greatest of flowers that would massage their feet as they walked. Then at the end would be her, or perhaps another person or creature she’d create to converse with the guest.
With a smile she said,
❝ Good morning. ❞
The voice, soft as the breeze sighing through the trees of the forestry, earns his attention, dragging his eyes from the flowers beneath his feet to the body that claimed the voice. He looks passively, distanced as he usually is, without much thought to be given to what will come afterwards ---- from this little ensconced adventure. He doubts anyone will miss him, or that anyone will have noticed he is gone.
‘ ---hello ’
The trill of his voice rings through the silence that comes afterwards. He naturally wonders as to who she is, or what she might want; but he has nothing to give, nothing to share with her, except his company. His hands seek solace in the smooth confines of his pockets and there he stands, observing, perhaps questioning, but nothing more, nothing less. The forest is good to him, and he concludes that it is good to all; maybe she, like him, is simply caught in its enchantment
Even when he feels the slight crawl of a bug on his skin he makes no move to remove it. The question, naturally comes forewards, the question of who, but it is not demanding.
‘ ---who are you? ’ Only after its said does he spare a glance to the intruding insect tickling his skin --- it is large, six -legged, it looks familiar, but he knows its not, they never show themselves lest they must. It looks like a Queen. The Queen of some insect Hive.
‘ it’s not very nice to stare at people, now is it? ’
