祝日 / Permanent Vacation
art blog(derogatory)
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
Not today Justin
YOU ARE THE REASON
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Kaledo Art
Stranger Things
ojovivo
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taylor price
occasionally subtle
pixel skylines
AnasAbdin
RMH
★
shark vs the universe
Claire Keane
🪼
tumblr dot com
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@klutzycustodian
( In the process of moving all my blogs over to a multimuse. This is the account that has the most people following it, so if you missed Gordon & Wheatley and co ... say hello to @skototropisms :^) I will probably only write with like 1 or 3 people but it’s just something I’ll be chipping at. )
(( Hi I’m still extremely busy but I just wanted to let you guys know that a wonderful gay couple came into my job today and during the course of our conversation, asked to see my art and Aggressively Liked everything Brucely related on my Instagram. ))
@chainsxwsmile
Unusual questions for your muse
🛌- Does your muse prefer to sleep under many layers of blankets or only under a few? 🎀- Does your muse like to accessorize? What are their favorite pieces of accessories? 🎐- Does your muse like to collect/hoard anything? 🛋- Does your muse like to have company over? 📱- Is your muse the “oversharing” type? 🐰- Does your muse prefer soft, plush textures or smooth and glossy textures? 💎- Is your muse drawn to things that sparkle? 🔖- Is your muse a daydreamer? What do they tend to think about? Have they ever caught themselves while lost in thought? 📰- Does your muse like to read the news? 📇- Is your muse a gossiper? 🕹- What does your muse do to occupy themselves when bored? 🏚- Does your muse like to explore dangerous places? 🌋- Has your muse done something stupid and not regret it? ⛪️- Does your muse enjoy attending churches they don’t belong to? 🛣- Is your muse considered a wanderer? 🐺- Would your muse consider themselves a lone wolf or a social butterfly? 🤝- Does your muse forgive others easily? 🖖- What “Fandoms” would your muse belong to? 🎖- Does your muse enjoy praise? 🎟- Do they like “so bad it’s good” movies? 🎠- Does your muse like amusement parks/carnivals/festivals? 🏝- Could your muse survive on an uninhabited island all by themselves?
Tries to boop Wheatley's nose.
Boop. A flurry of fingers raises to swat at his cheeks, the panic in his voice rising. ❝ What -- ?! What is it? Is there something on my face?! Not the face! ❞
“Preparing to interface with the neurotoxin central control circuit. Begin: ‘Ello, guv! Neurotoxin inspectah! Need to shut this place down for a moment! Here’s my credentials. Shut yourself down. I am totally legit. From the board of international neurotoxin… um… observers. From the United… Arab Emirates. Hello.”
maycontainneurotoxin
“There’s a lot of leg to pull, dear, and I’m far too tired.” Her voice came out softer than expected as she became momentarily lost in concentration, stuck in a brief loop of reading the same sentence over and over but not comprehending it. Eyebrows knitted in frustration, she pushed herself back from her desk and stretched; the crack that came from her back was ungodly sounding.
Carol had tried to wean herself off of drinking so much coffee, she really had, but being the only competent accountant left in the building, she had a long night ahead of her and needed something to work with. She took a few steps to the mini-fridge that Cave insisted that his drinks be kept in outside of his office (It suited her just fine, she was able to store her own creamers and lunches there, and since he never went into it himself, she never got caught) and dug around.
“Do you want coffee? I forgot to bring dinner and I’m going to make a pot.”
She remembered the paperwork for that incident… and the many incidents before it. Losing a few teeth was one of the less-severe accidents to have happened, especially as of late. How Wheatley had been the longest-standing custodian in the face of 500-foot pitfalls, pools of acid, and military-grade turret testing chambers she would never know. It seemed to her that the testing chambers, even post-test, were getting more and more dangerous by the day (and she had the statistics to prove it), and she’d be lying if she said she’d never worried about safety.
Caroline thought for a moment as she turned on the coffee maker (Her own butterscotch blend brought from home, of course- the stuff they supplied the staff with here tasted like paint), and chose her next words as delicately as she was able at this hour of night.
“Well, I’m afraid there’s not much higher you can go on the custodial ladder- you’re the ‘most durable fella we’ve got’, in the words of our oh-so-kind employer,” she gave air quotes with one hand, “But if you’d like to maybe foray into the office floors, maybe poke around as my temp…”
Her voice dwindled away and she leaned back against the counter. “You know my door is always open, honey.”
Wheatley is taken by the softness of her voice, shedding Caroline a look of concern as he pauses in his work. Strong as she was, the custodian knew that keeping Aperture in check was no job to sneeze at. Why, even with the urban sprawl of test chambers, break-rooms, and offices as his domain, Wheatley knew he only worked a fraction as hard as her. For Caroline, all of Aperture depended on her, from every uncounted cog to errant employee. The thought of such power was cloying, but Wheatley had always been happy to rest on his laurels.
In fact, he was growing very tired of sweeping himself, the crack of Carol’s back straightening his own. Propping the broom so that it sits against a nearby wall, Wheatley stiffens and twists in place, the snap of each vertebrae drawing from him another breath. Much better.
❝ Coffee sounds lovely, actually. Gotta keep that midnight oil burnin’, aye? ❞
He sidles up next to her, leaning heavily against the wall as he pauses to dust his palms off on the legs of his trousers. It wouldn’t be long before the smell of coffee would drift from the little machine, a welcome reprieve from the sting of cleaner ... assuming Wheatley could smell it. Nose-blindness seemed to be a commonality among Aperture’s custodial team. Nonetheless, the potential to smell something that didn’t burn his throat.
❝ Oh nonsense! Cleanin’ is what I do, Carol. Why, you could finally let me handle my own janitorial budget, order my own supplies ... I mean, really, can’t you sweet-talk Cave into spendin’ less on moon rocks and more on brooms? The one I’ve been pushin’ around looks a right mess. I could always pick up the slack, y’know ... land me a fancy little office where I could print out my own cleanin’ routes for the crew instead of gabbin’ on walkie-talkies that hardly work in a bloody salt-mine. ❞
Wheatley pauses his blabbering, looking to Carol with his eyes aglow. An office job? He’d lie if he said the idea of a cushy office job wasn’t tempting, but the responsibilities inherent in such a position gave him pause. Looking her up and down, Wheatley furrows his brows before speaking cautiously.
❝ Poke around how? ❞
any dolt with HALF a brain can see that humankind has gone I N S A N E
❝ Nothin’ like a new shipment of cleaning supplies to start the week off right! Feels like Christmas, really. Why, I reckon it’d been at least three years since we replaced the head on this broom! ❞
chainsxwsmile
The shark paused but a moment and, with an uncertain expression, fixed his gaze back towards the android at his side. “I dunno…,” Bruce confessed, furrowing his brows. “It feels like it’s been years since I’ve been on the surface. I’d hope everythin’ was ‘bout the same as I left. Or maybe better…”
Years. In the lifetime of a longevitous personality construct, years were but the blink of an optic. Looking to the decrepit panels that crowd the room’s walls, Wheatley wonders just how badly his perception of time has suffered. Surely Bruce wasn’t a relatively new creation ... it never suited GLaDOS to mess with experiments of a more organic variety.
His eyes fix to a spot of green, snaking from between cracks in the paneling; urban overgrowth that had made its way from the surface. A realization dawns.
❝ Hey, hey, c’mon now. How much could change? Why, look at it this way, I bet the surface is ten times as greener as it was when you last saw it! All the plants knockin’ around down here has to mean something good, right? If they can grow here, then, blimey, the surface must be a right sight to see ... ❞
ready to meet my maker - Polygon1993
hey if you’re an animorphs blog/andalite blog and you follow/interact/reblog from the–a//bom//ination ((or from her main blog f//eath/ery//storm)) please do not interact with me/block me, thank you
maycontainneurotoxin
“I’ve been trying to ‘talk you up to the boss-man’ for years, just not for this. I figured you’re just too good at polishing windows and mopping floors. We’ve become so used to the High Quality that we just aren’t wow-ed anymore.” Caroline gave him a wry smile from her desk.
The offices had closed almost an hour ago. Carol stayed behind for her lion’s share of paperwork, and Wheatley stayed behind to clean the upper floors he couldn’t get at during the day, as well as to chat- whichever he did more of in the day was a gamble. You wouldn’t catch her complaining thought; she liked the company.
Her smile faded some at the edges and she asked, cautiously, “Are you… serious, honey? I can, if you… want?”
He’s wrangling a dust bunny with the edge of his broom, corralling it into submission amidst cigar ash and paper balls: no doubt clues that a certain CEO had paced these halls. With all Wheatley had seen over the years, it was a wonder the man managed to get anything done. Cave Johnson could move mountains — and smoke the stress away when it suited him. When had Aperture ever conformed to public expectations?
❝ Anymore? ❞ He echoes, scoffing out a laugh and looking to Caroline incredulously. ❝ Warms my heart, that, knowing I wowed the boss-man at some point ... because he sure never showed it. If I’m bein’ honest, quite sounds like you’re pullin’ me leg, Carol. ❞ Wheatley flashes a smile, genuine and teasing, before it lapses when a particularly stubborn stain catches his eye.
❝ What’s the harm in it? Not like he can fire me. On account of me, ah, bein’ bloody hard to kill. These rookies don’t tend to last long, y’know. Had the new guy lose a couple a’ teeth last week. Right mess that was. ❞
(( stop lookin’ at me with those big ol eyes ))
❝ Oi! Mind talkin’ me up to the boss-man, Carol? Not to brag or anything, but I polished up a window real fancy-like the other day — a bird slammed into it and everythin’! Thought the bloody pane was air! That deserves some praise, don’t it? ❞
@maycontainneurotoxin
Your starter makes me wanna give the poor orb a nice, warm hug and tell him it’ll be okay. Why must you tug my heartstrings so??? 💔
i am fucking begging you guys to stop insulting or threatening me, the op, in the notes and tags, even as a joke. it’s not funny.
