nementia

n. the post-distraction effort to recall the reason why you’re feeling particularly anxious or angry or excited, in which you retrace your sequence of thoughts like a kid wandering across the neighborhood gathering the string of a downed kite

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hi I’m manu ( he/him | gmt-3 | 23 )

please use small text.

i prefer small/medium gifs. i don’t really vibe with gifless replies unless it’s for smut.

some of my characters have very triggering content in their backstory/life. i’ll always tag triggers with ‘trigger tw’ or ‘trigger cw’ but please keep that in mind if you are sensitive to this type of stuff, i wouldn’t want to trigger anyone. 

no incest or rape. ( past, present or mentioned )

anything in my starters tag is free game, no matter how old. also, we can have as many threads as you would like going, is cool with me.

my only banned fcs are deceased people and people who don’t wanna be used.

if you already have my discord, talking to me through there is usually an easier way to get an answer from me than tumblr ims.

rules | muses | opens 

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honeykeats​:

thaddeus quickly fixed his expression, pushing the joy, the excitement and happiness from his face. delight or not was still to be determined but thaddeus, but he did happen to catch thadd in his favourite topic. the one thing that brought him that joy, excitement and happiness. “ pierre-auguste renoir. have you been to maison fournaise?” thaddeus asked, arching a brow at the other. it had been one of the locations he visited when he was in his twenties, a brilliant restaurant along the Île de Chatou. “you visit many of the galleries in town? i have six here, but i have more in other locations. art is my life. it’s all that matters to me, besides my family.” he said, though as soon as the words were out of his mouth he regretted them. “how well educated are you in regards to art?” 

“don’t do that.” he said, with both a pout and a smile, “don’t force yourself to be miserable out of spite, that’s how you get wrinkles and regrets.” he took the last few sips of his drink like he was forcing himself through horribly tasting medicine in hopes of relief on the other end of it. somewhere in between the first and the last of it, alcohol stopped burning his throat and decided instead to paint his cheeks a lighter shade of pink. “i have. it’s something else, isn’t it?” the magic was not in the fact that the restaurant was uniquely beautiful in some profound way, but in how exceedingly ordinary it was and still— sunlight hit the inside of the place in all the right ways. “i do. i probably bought something off of you too, i like having pretty things. i am, however, not educated at all.” theo smiled, like that was a profoundly charming aspect of himself he was more than happy to share. “not if you mean formally educated. never been enrolled in a university. i just take up little interests here and there. i don’t know much about modern art or anything that happened more than four hundred years ago. i do have an encyclopedic knowledge of impressionism though.” 

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honeykeats​:

thadd tried to hold back the small smile when theo settled on his nickname. thadd was all he had ever been called, beside his full name, and mr. james of course. “i’ll buy you something better for the next one.” thadd said, taking another sip of his drink. “yes, art.” he hummed, not quite sure that theodore would understand it in the way that thaddeus did, only sasha got art the same way that he did. and that was because of how he had raised her. “the veiled lady. and he also has the veiled vestal. which is my favorite of his.” thadd grinned properly, someone knew something he hadn’t seen coming. of course, van gogh and cézanne were gimmes. he picked out monti. “six, actually.”

“ thank you. i appreciate it. ” theo smiled, not a hint of sarcasm in his tone. “ see, ” he bit into his fries, all too self satisfied. “ didn’t i tell you that it was hard to be miserable around me ? i’m a delight. ” a small laugh rolling off his lips. “ the veiled lady. ” repeated with some reverence added onto it. “ it’s pretty, isn’t it ? i always liked things that don’t look like what they actually are. silk that’s actually marble. violin solos made of synthesizers. thousands of tiny little dots and brushstrokes to make up luncheon of the boating party. ” something more, something that wasn’t what it looked like. “ six. ” he shook his head with a smile. “ what are the chances i have been to them already ? ” the chances were very small that he hadn’t. and still, somehow, theo stumbled upon the man not at his place of work, but at a random small bar. “ of the all the things there are to own in this world, art is a good one to choose. ”

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honeykeats​:

“not at all, it’s different.” people were too afraid of thaddeus, which was how he preferred things, but when people were too afraid to be themselves, to act casual and make friends, it meant he hadn’t had any sort of nickname since he was in school when he was young. not including anna or sasha’s nicknames for him of course, they were the closest people in his life. “you know, if you don’t like the drink, you don’t have to drink it.” he mused, but then he decided to take a leap, no idea what kind of leap, but a gamble regardless. “art. art makes me smile. art is what i do.  rafaelle monti, vincent van gogh,  paul cézanne, jean-paul riopelle and francisco galeno.” thadd hummed, he could keep listing them, that wasn’t even a list of his favorites, just the ones he had handles more recently. 

“ then tj it is. ” theo announced with a smile. “ i know i don’t have to, but i like to commit to my bad decisions and this... ” he took another sip, shook his head. “ god, this is a terrible decision. ” he chuckled. theodore had never really liked anything with lime in it. — the barman, apparently, felt the precise opposite way. “ wow. art. ” his smile only really widened at the revelation. “ art. ” like he was suddenly both impressed and interested, like the man beside him had accidentally stumbled onto something that meant more for theo than he might have thought. “ okay, let me work on my memory skills here, i have always been bad with names. rafaelle monti, that’s... the veiled bride ? silk etched into marble. that’s a good choice. ” theo nodded. “ can i try to guess ? you own a very expensive gallery. did i get it right ? ”

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honeykeats​:

there was something so endearing in how he still called his mother his ‘momma’. up until he was twenty-nine, lucien had still called him mum his mum, but now he didn’t have anything to call her. he didn’t talk to her anymore. she wouldn’t even look at him the last time they had seen each other. he listened as nash spoke, his temple falling into the palm of his hand as he listened, sipping slowly on his whiskey. he could do this all night, which wasn’t what he had expected when nash first spoke to him. it wasn’t anything he expected in his entire life. he had written this flavour of vulnerability off over a decade ago. “i think the cowboy energy slipped when you lost the hat, but you have an entirely different energy now.” lucien said softly, everything about him soft. that was what nash did to him, he took all his rough edges, his sharp corners and prickly sides, and he softened them. he had placed a feeling deep in lucien’s chest that was familiar enough to be scared of, but far enough away that he couldn’t stop it now if he tried. 

he sat down on the couch with a sigh, leaning back against it as he tapped the spot beside himself, a silent request for lucien to move closer, stay there, sit with him. “ yeah ? and what energy is that ? ” nash couldn’t really help the self-conscious way he ran his hand through his hair. trying to do away with the flatness the hat surely must have added onto it, by simply moving it up. all soft dark spikes and messiness. the discarded hat left only vulnerability in its place. it was as if nash was sitting there nearly naked in front of lucien. “ that’s gotta count as three facts, though, don’t it ? cake, morning routine, people who raised me more than my momma did. ” he had always felt more loved with them than he did with the people who actually shared his last name. “ it’s your turn, sir. ”

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sometimes watching movies i did when i was younger is like ninety minutes of me going ,, was there not a single responsible adult around?

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open to: m/f/nb plot: theodore might be a little dramatic but he misses your muse character: theodore. 46. musician, ceo, millionaire. wears his heart on his sleeve and often gets it broken. 

“ isn’t it funny ? ” he was drunk. he was way too drunk for this conversation. “ you once called me forever now you can’t call me back. ”