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taylor price
NASA
Peter Solarz
Misplaced Lens Cap
Sade Olutola
Today's Document
Monterey Bay Aquarium
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
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2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
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Stranger Things
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Game of Thrones Daily
trying on a metaphor
todays bird
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
@theartofmadeline
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
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@saintvampe
sinner’s paradise: my flesh turns inwards &* outwards. my teeth sharpen like knives, sweetness turned sour in my mouth. venom flows –––––––––––––––- imagine me. i am holding your neck as a lover does, nostrils low, teeth 𝖕𝖚𝖓𝖈𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌 your flesh. i inhale red. i inhale 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈. * / * / romeo. 22. east coast ! #saintvampe
Ways you can Support Palestine :
please note this is absolutely not an all-encompassing list, and to constantly check the status of aid or groups in how able they are to help Palestinian people at that moment; stay informed, stay current, listen to, uplift, and share Palestinian voices, and don't stay silent.
DO NOT TAG AS CURRENT EVENTS OR POLITICS TW/CW.
important information / helpful links
Decolonize Palestine
A Simple Guide to what's happening, by Al Jazeera
US Campaign for Palestinian Rights
For US Citizens: USCPR - Ceasefire Now
For US Citizens: Action Network - Ceasefire Now - a video explaining how to use the site
Palestinian Speculative Fiction Reading List
how to donate
Palestine Children's Relief Fund
US Campaign for Palestinian Rights
Arab.org - a free, daily click-to-donate site that works with UNRWA
Doctors Without Borders
how to know what to boycott
The BDS movement
Boycott is/rael products list (2023, from adda247)
List of Companies that Posted Statements Supporting is/rael (gdoc, copied & pasted from som.yale.edu so as to not provide site traffic; updated 10/26/23)
— 𝐌. | FOR SO LONG HAS SHE PLAYED THE ROLE OF BOTH JUDGE AND JURY, the executioner not too far in her shadow - trail. for too long has she been both divinity and devil, except... she is sure those are just the same being, dual in one. tonight: SHE HAS A GUEST OVER FOR DINNER, a supernatural thing just as herself, dressed splendid and sordid, the way the Saint ( ! ) enjoys all of her guests. if they were dinner, that is. they are stuck in a game of getting to know each other, far too much time spent ambrosia - drunk among fairy folk and too little time ( according to the vampiristic ) spent over a nice, warm meal. You would be my honor, she had whispered over a glass, a few nights prior, If I could make you dinner some night. a flirt, thought a cordial and friendly one.
THEY SIT ACROSS FROM EACH OTHER IN THIS DINING ROOM, the lights dimmed and a candle between the two of them. the woman had put though into this dinner, wanted to make it as personal as possible, and besides — the china looked finer in the dark light. ❝ it's your turn, ❞ says the vampiristic woman, napkin brought to her mouth, a gentle dab. this game has felt like an exchange of favors, of knowledge that had pooled for decades, eons and centuries. dusty knowings, the both of them carried. To ask me something. the woman finishes.
the other reaches for her glass, brings it to her mouth. red washes to her mouth, past her lips, and Seraphina mimics.
THE GUEST [ @silvreflames ] FIXES HER MOUTH INTO A LOPSIDED FROWN. " what do you know... about fairness ? " and the saint begins to feel as if she has been ambushed.
❝ OH. ❞ she says simply, the bottom of her wine glass returning to its place with a solid thud. the woman looks to the side, blinking rapidly; betrayal comes in a flash, though she does not quite know why. ❝ i do not believe very much in it, when it doesn't matter. ❞ a mumbling of words, though they sounded sure and clear. the Saint ( ! ) fashions herself into divinity, a purposeful thing without a purpose. a god devoid of worshippers.
❝ i think fairness is overused, don't you agree ? it is much easier to be correct, even if it is cruel. ❞
seraphina is a hungry woman, but it is a very precise and contained hunger 99% of the time. if she is starving, she becomes frenzied, but she has a decent enough hold on her hunger + vampiristic tendencies where she is able to manipulate her hunger to being less of a pest.
— 𝐌. | THE SUN SETS EARLIER THESE DAYS, its rays dimming and billowing to a cool warmth by mid - noon. it is in this dimming, billowing warmth where they meet, apartment complex gate sliding open in a smooth and calming frenzy; the woman steps through the gate first, a glance thrown back at who she assumes is a new neighbor; his appearance is taken in, soft spots of his body pinpointed and memorized. you never know when you must be prepared, when there's need for fresh meat. ❝ oh, are you new in the building ? ❞ asks she, curiosity lacing her tongue like a barbed wire. she watches him, memorizes the freckle and fat that sits on his face, pads his form; the vampiristic woman imagines braised meat in stew.... new neighbor fois gras....
HE DOES NOT ANSWER AS QUICK AS SHE WOULD LIKE, but her face remains cheerful as they both walk back into the building, him at a considerably slower pace. the woman presses the button lodged into the wall, calls the elevator from its hiding place above. ❝ are you moved in alone ? ( SILENCE. A SHORT NO. ) well, why don't i have you and ... whoever over for dinner ? i've been cultivating something in my garden, i'd love to show it off. ❞ silence fills the room. the elevator dings, the silver doors opening with a glide and she steps inside. So ?
the man [ @deluder ] fixes his mouth one way, and then another. as he steps into the elevator, words leave his mouth as a quiet omen, a quieter threat: “ i’ve been cultivating unkindness... ” the woman nods, feels the corners of her mouth turn upwards. the man continues: “ i’ve been cultivating a lot of things — i’m a fertile field, it turns out — but unkindness is the most interesting..”
the elevator halts at the first stop. the woman exits first, then wedges her hand between the closing doors, pries them open with a dazzling grin.
❝ tell your wife to come to dinner. saturday night, 8PM. i'm just down this hall, at the very end. I THINK WE COULD BE GOOD FRIENDS. ❞
Nai Bonet in Nocturna (1979)
thinking about how seraphina uses violence to keep control of those who work for her, how she wants them to feel small and know innately that if they fuck up, she'll dispose of them just as quick; how this tight ship of her is the only thing she really has, and how she does everything in her power to keep it going and running as smooth as possible, because she has no room for mistakes.
♰ accepting meme ⁏ @saintvampe: › ‘ you are not to engage. you are simply here to observe. ”
CIVILITY !? RESTRAINT !? INACTION !? IT'S LIKE THEY TOLD HER TO GO AGAINST THE VERY NATURE OF HER BEING. SYNAPSES FIRED IN THE MOST HEINOUS OF WAYS; VIOLENCE UNFOLDING AMONGST HUMANS... THE BLOODSHED, IT WAS FAR TOO SWEET TO JUST WATCH IT DRIP ALONG A RANDOM ALLEYWAY. A WASTE ; A FUCKING WASTE. ARMS CROSSED OVER HER CHEST - TALONS DIGGING INTO THE COMFORT OF HER BICEPS, BACK LEANED AGAINST A NEARBY BRICK WALL, POUT SO PERFECTLY PLACED ON PLUMP LIPS. " i do not understand why we can't... why we have to watch men battle with testosterone pumping god knows where———— " FRUSTRATION BUBBLED UP IN THE WORST OF WAYS, CLIMBING UP AT THE BACK OF HER THROAT BEFORE DISCIPLINE WAS FOUND. A HISS DIRECTED TOWARDS SERAPHINA'S GENERAL DIRECTION, JUST ABOVE A WHISPER, " they are spoiling the meat! it's ghastly... callous! " DROLTA COULD FEEL THE BUDDING RAGE & FALLEN ICHOR CAUSING HER FANGS TO PROJECT, SHE WAS STARVING + ANGRY - HANGRY, IF YOU WILL. SHE WOULD NOT / WILL NOT REST UNTIL HUNGER WAS PUT TO REST. BLESS THE POOR SOULS OF THOSE IN HER ORBIT.
ALREADY, LIKE A TAP - annoyance runs through the vampiristic woman, saps her of her good nature. still, against her mouth is the shadow of a smile, fangs peeking from behind berry - toned mouth and glistening as silver from the distant streetlamp light. she watches the next alley over, fist into face and stomach and shin, watches droplets of red fall onto asphalt. when the other speaks, the Saint ( ! ) turns her head sharp, hisses even sharper. ❝ WE ARE NOT TO STRIKE UNTIL THE TIME IS RIGHT. ( then, sweeter, ) would you rather have tougher meat to chew, my new friend ? ❞
BROWN EYES RETURN TO THE VIOLENCE, the vampiristic mouth salivating when one body falls. the woman becomes hungry within a moment's notice, and she almost takes a step forwards; a red nail digs into the grove between thumb and forefinger, threatening to pierce skin.
❝ it is as if they are tenderizing themselves for us... you must think of it that way. after all, that one ( ... ) ❞ a finger extends, points to the recently fallen, now unmoving form. the vampiristic woman gives an eye to her companion. ❝ he will be much easier to swallow, now that they've beaten him to almost a pulp. i'm thinking tenderloins with him, hmm ? ❞
— 𝐌. | IT IS EVENING. THIS, SHE KNOWS CLEARLY, the outside sky gone a pitch black and the streets alight with fluorescent. the vampiristic woman adorns herself in something that matches the night, dark clothes against brown skin and white hair, gloves that end in freshly painted nails. her home is silent as a graveyard, save for the light rustling of skirt against wood floor. the loneliness is relished in, though she knows it will not last forever: in the dimness of her bedroom rests another form, the slow and steady coolness of lover, of a woman who is hers and no one else's. the world is quiet outside her cold windows, the sun way past its setting. the woman grabs her coat in her living room, moves in front of the full - length mirror that stands between window and door; a laugh rings through the home, up the stairs, filling every crevice with small merry.
THE STAIRS CREEK, LITTLE BY LITTLE. the Saint ( ! ) has stopped her laugh short, a moment interrupted, though a smile remains on her face as she turns to see the woman come down. her smile is mirrored... a pulsating love reaches between them, despite the night - dark, despite the buzz of taffeta - skirt night. ❝ hello, my sweetest thing... ❞ whispered, husked.
the vampire - woman [ @yaburnae, ] glides across the floor slow, a withering and flickering candle flame. ❝ I THOUGHT I HEARD YOUR LAUGHTER. ❞ and the Saint ( ! ) allows her smile to widen, large and larger.
❝ OH, THAT SMALL THING ? ❞ says she, suddenly shy. a rush of embarrassment goes hot in her cheeks, and the woman turns back to her mirror, ringed hands and long nails smoothing the black of her skirt. ❝ i was just thinking of last morning... ❞ as the woman nears, Seraphina pulls her in with one hand, makes room for both of them in the mirror. the Saint ( ! ) becomes awash with love at the end of her fingertips; across Anya's throat goes an arm, then a blushed cheek meets her shoulder. ❝ you made a joke before we retired to bed, and i couldn't help but let it re - tickle my fancy. my fanged silver, you are quite the comedienne. ❞
i think i need mercenary!seraphina threads.
reminder seraphina is deeply inspired by this gustavo fring scene.
— 𝐌. | SHE IS AN IMPATIENT, PATIENT WOMAN. she loves her gophers dearly, loves them like an owner loves a biting dog, or a few bad crows stepped out of line. she is a woman made of nerves, all of the pinched to Hell and centering themselves in the middle of her skull, the burning of a million migraines beginning. she treads a line between annoyance and anger, gentle and seething both at once. the creature, her favorite creature, all slime and grit and gut - she's invited him inside her back office yet again to delve into a layered chore: not quite thievery, but a robbing from underneath the grave, something the Saint ( ! ) refuses to do on her own. she sits behind her desk, red nails tapping against hardwood, brown eye gazing on her gopher as if they were a prize she had won, a pig waiting to be skinned and gutted. hunger gnaws at her. settles deep in her, makes a selfish fool of her misery. ❝ I DO NOT UNDERSTAND YOUR PLAYING DUMB, LESHY. ❞
THE THING ACROSS FROM HER HAS A STUPID SMILE ON THEIR FACE, or what she registers to be a smile. it is a quirking of his lip that she hates, wants to rip off his face and swallow down, down, down. their response is not one she enjoys. " I HAVEN'T DONE ANYTHING YET. " // the woman snarls.
annoyance bleeds through like a badly covered wound. the Saint ( ! ) keeps her temper, hides her tongue and fanged teeth, forces herself inwards. the eyes close for a moment... then two.... then three... Yet. she repeats, malice burning through her mouth like a hot iron, malice spitting itself against the hardwood of her desk. ❝ i almost don't want to give you your job. i almost don't want to pay you. i almost want to eat you alive. ❞ the threat is not concealed. it's lain out: a budded thing, bare and naked.
from across the table, the gopher [ @yaburnae ] gives a crooked laugh that refuses to fit his mouth. " fine. won't waste my fucking time. " and the vampiristic woman is swift to move.
HER HAND MOVES FIRST: nails form a trap against his throat, sharpness pointed into their flesh, a threat of ripping. she stands, but only slightly; there is a dulled fierceness in her eyes, as if she were tired of discipline, as if her hunger was merely behind her teeth instead of stuffed down, down, so damned down. ❝ I WILL NOT PLAY GAMES WITH YOU, LESHY. ❞
reminder seraphina is deeply inspired by this gustavo fring scene.
:)
writing....
i love this evil, evil woman. this evil, deliciously dastardly woman.
— 𝐌. | THE UNDERGROUND DOES NOT OPEN FOR ANOTHER HOUR, at least: the Saint ( ! ) begins her work early, opening the shutters of her shop and unlocking the door, then starting on renovation plans before anyone had any chance to intervene. that's the way down here: get there first or pay the price. the vampiristic woman enters into her shop for a moment, the bell of the front door dinging once before its frame shutters closed ... and then she emerges moments later, just as the shop - owner next door begins to reach her own stoop, with a metal post in one hand, a hammer in the other. the woman comes to the edge of her store, places the pole between her own postal box and the box of the other shop, and brings her hammer atop its head with a mighty swing. the clanging rings out in triplets, then pause, the world seemingly rattling with sound.
THE UNDERGROUND DOES NOT OPEN FOR ANOTHER THIRTY MINUTES, and she is still hammering away at the wretched thing, moved on to another corner in her imagined square. the hammer comes down quick and swift, heavy as a bat. the metal rings out with offensive revelry.
the other shop - owner, @godwitch, comes to the outside, right under her awning. What are you doing? the question is asked in a quick pace of tone, as if she were trying to expel it quicker than the hammer's blow. the vampiristic woman glances upwards, brown eyes flashing sweet. Oh, she begins, hello, neighbor! Well, I had this plan of changing up my layout. I need a bigger patio for winter months...
the woman stares at her with storm - grey eyes, the tallness of her almost, for a moment, seeming to match the Saint. her mouth opens, and hushed, even - toned and quick: " you’re not the only one who gets to make plans. "
here, the vampiristic woman gives a childish groan. annoyance races through her like an arrow, shooting into her forehead and behind her eyes. the Saint ( ! ) turns with a swiftness towards the woman, teeth begging to be bared. an angry step is taken forwards, though there is no anger in her face, just strange curiosity, slight offense: a cocked head, a grimacing mouth. ❝ WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT ? [ a moment passes. the anger leaves and is replaced with joyous grin, fangs showed. a chuckle passes her red mouth. ] ... are you jealous that you didn't think of it first ? oh, there will be other ideas... ❞ and she returns to her hammering, the world filled again with awful noise.
