Sweet Seals For You, Always

Discoholic 🪩
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
trying on a metaphor
Keni
Three Goblin Art
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Monterey Bay Aquarium
taylor price
One Nice Bug Per Day
sheepfilms
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me

Product Placement

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
Today's Document
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🪼
we're not kids anymore.
h

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@sloaneve
deadly class (2019–)
The San Francisco Examiner, California, March 21, 1942
i always try to go back to writing when i get a handle of my life and then leave it behind when i lose my grip. last night i went back and read some threads from my first oc when i should’ve been sleeping and got really sad at lost opportunities and friendships.
i’ve always been shit at connecting with people, but at some point i did feel like i had a lot of friends in this hellsite. i miss it. i miss everyone. i’m sorry i’ve been away, but i can’t genuinely promise i’ll be better.
i don’t even feel connected with the things i write anymore.
a few things about sloan’s family, because i can only keep this in my head for so long:
her only family consists on five people: mother, father, paternal grandmother, an uncle and an aunt.
the only ones who have a name as of right now are uncle rodrik, the owner of the bookshop and the one who used to homeschool her, and grandma ruby, the one who named her.
while she calls them uncle and aunt out of habit, in truth, they’re her mother and father’s respective partners.
her parents were best friends who wanted to have a kid and ended up doing it together. the partners came later and it was decided that they’d raise sloan together. ruby, who knew that was the only grandchild she’d ever have, decided to move in.
the closest thing sloan ever had to a best friend was her grandmother.
they lived in an old factory that was owned by ruby’s husband and was one of the only things he left his son. it was big enough to fit everyone, and so started a perpetual state of fixing up the place that would become sloan’s inheritance.
her father was a forest engineer and believed in the power of plants to make people’s lives better. he instilled in sloan a respect for nature that she’d carry for life.
uncle rodrik never really lived with them, though he spent many nights. he had his own place in the city, where he and her father would hide away sometimes, to have some privacy.
though he was thoroughly loved by everyone else in the family, uncle rodrik never got along with her mother’s partner. so, once her father passed away, he made himself scarce at the house. in turn, sloan finished school and used her newly-found free time to work full-time at the shop, helping him.
@ecritverite said: © © © hehe :^) send “©” for a muse fact: accepting.
- sloan doesn’t really go by her last name, because it feels too much her father’s – it is his identifier in her eyes. it was what her mother and aunt called him, almost exclusively. in school, when inevitably called by the name, she tended to not even recognise herself as the object of the conversation and that has gotten her in trouble more than once, with the assumption that sloan was deliberately ignoring her superiors or peers.
instead, it is her middle name that she used, though not as often anymore – only ever interacting with patrons that that are so taken by the products of her gift that they either brush her aside or run in terror, sloan is not really asked what she’s called. if she were, her name would be sloan evangeline. and even that name was given by her father, in lieu of being blocked from a first name by his own mother.
- sloan thinks she’d like living in the city, in one of those old buildings with the fire scape ladders. she thinks she’d like the noise of a city bustling at all hours of the day and neighbours living through too thin walls. running a bookshop where people regularly just drop down and read, as if it is a proper library, means she basks in the white noise all day and going home to no one will make the quiet old very fast. it’s one of the few fantasies she allows herself, but she won’t ever go through with it, too attached to the place she grew up in.
- her first memory is of being handed an almost comically big (for her four-year old self) watering can by her father and bathing the snake plant growing by the front door with his help, while her mother and aunt danced together under the sunstrips made by the large kitchen windows.
@voirverite said: © ©! send “©” for a muse fact: accepting.
- sloan is very used to being alone, but not so much to the quiet that comes with it. even when her entire family was alive and living together, she’d find a place or two to hide and be on her own, but it was always impossible to mute the laughter and loud conversations altogether. these days, she sometimes craves it, and on particularly bad days, she’ll close the shop late and take the long way home, just to walk by the busy streets.
- as a result of a recluse life, with a family from all over the map, sloan never did develop a bostonian accent, despite living there all her life.
Send “©” for a muse fact
good morning! im reopening my commissions i need to make roughly $30 to ensure i have the week to make it to a new job through mon - fri ; i have a working interview i need to get to when the new week starts , but i dont see a paycheck until the 20th and my plan b fell through . so! i’m doing basic icon commissions ( i’m sorry i still don’t know how to use photoshop ) for those who just can’t be assed considering the new exhaustive post formatting so they can get that small headache out of the way for their new iconing process bc god knows i hate how tedious that shit can get . 100 batch - $5 150 batch - $10 200 batch - $15 250 batch - $20 so on so forth if you aren’t interested i’d still appreciate this getting passed around! thank you!
love how i accidentaly inserted sloan into the g*od om*ns universe
solichor:
summer’s interest is an easy thing to pique, and it’s something sloan manages it before she can even open her mouth. (before summer enters the shop, really.) politely, summer rests her weight at the palm of her hands, set against the edge of the counter instead of balanced across it all the way up to her elbows. ‘ weird shop. ’ is the extent of her opening line, but there’s nothing unkind in the way she says it. rather, summer offers it up with familiarity, a cognate explanation gone unsaid in the way she smiles at her.
‘ what’s the oldest book you have? ’
sloan refrains from the cliché of 'i get that a lot', because it would be a lie. she never gets that– her patrons, even the reluctant ones, tend to ignore the strange aura surrounding the building, or at the very least not mention it out loud not to spook whatever it is hiding. instead, she nods her head, slowly lowering the book she's been reading, to fix the newcomer with an inquiring look.
then, as if she's been waiting her entire life for someone to ask, sloan takes a book from beneath the counter and places it in front of summer's face. it is not dusty or smells odd, as you would expect from a centuries' old book. in fact, it looks brand new.
behold, 'the nice and accurate prophecies of agnes nutter, witch'.
"mind you, it's not actually for sale. couldn't part with an only edition”.
just found out I lost a spot on this thing I really wanted after believing I got it for a night
I think... if y'all want to be my friend... then you should...
If we are mutuals we are friends and i love you
𝔞re not 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐒 the 𝗽𝗼𝗲𝘁𝘀 who from year to year , from 𝚂𝚃𝚁𝙾𝙿𝙷𝙴 to 𝚂𝚃𝚁𝙾𝙿𝙷𝙴 write the 𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 ? ––––– 𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖇𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖘 , 1986 .
SPELL OUT YOUR URL IN SONG TITLES FROM YOUR LIBRARY.
S – samba da benção / bebel gilberto L – lost stars / keira knightley O – ob-la-di, ob-la-da / the beatles A – amphetamine / steve wynn N – not gonna let you walk away / LOLO E – everlong / foo fighters V – vienna / billy joel E – emperor’s new clothes / panic! at the disco
tagged by. stole from @solichor god knows when tagging. anyone, everyone. come one, come all.
before you, i thought love was hard. DON’T BE A STRANGER! / life. written by lemuela. rebooted august 2020.