blake kathryn
Kiana Khansmith
taylor price
No title available
No title available
we're not kids anymore.
Misplaced Lens Cap
noise dept.
trying on a metaphor
Love Begins
Sweet Seals For You, Always
styofa doing anything
PR's Tumblrdome
Claire Keane
Discoholic 🪩
Xuebing Du
Show & Tell
roma★
NASA
ojovivo
seen from Brazil
seen from Germany
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Türkiye
seen from Norway
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from Ireland
seen from Canada
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Croatia
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@strangewonderful
STRANGEWONDERFUL is a low activity & friends only multi-muse. written, with love, by dee (she/they, 24) & exploring themes of . . . finding beauty in the everyday, the bonds of friendship, pacifism, making the world a better place, childlike wonder, hope, kindness as a superpower, & discovering who you are. muses under the cut.
CARRD / 2. INTEREST TRACKER / 3. MAIN BLOG
this blog is now an archive. find me at @dayplayers!
this blog is now an archive. find me at @dayplayers!
"Not so easily as do human beings," Ingvar replied. Giants were hardy, built for life in the mountains, and that meant, at times of the year, snow. If he were vulnerable to the cold, then, it would be impractical to have ever resided in such a place.
He wanted to come closer, but was uncertain if he was truly welcome to do so. Maybe Ladus only offered because he felt he had to. Ingvar couldn't accept such an invitation; he simply couldn't.
... Still, he had said they could be friends. Still reluctant, the giant inched closer, and kept a generous distance from both the man and his fire as he took a seat upon the ground and crossed his legs. In need of it or no, he felt quite comforted by the fire and its warmth.
"But... it is being generous, for... for you to be offering it to me... despite such."
ladus doesn't get cold easily either. he's big, taller than most of his fellow soldiers, with broad shoulders: plenty of muscle and size to keep him warm. though not nearly as much as the giant next to him. he glances to the side. it's impossible to imagine that someone the size that ingvar is could ever move quietly, but he always seems like he's moving hesitantly. like he wants to disrupt everything as little as possible.
truthfully, the fire ladus had started had been more for himself, but admitting that doesn't seem like the right thing to say. he says instead, "what are friends for." maybe the giant will understand that ladus really doesn't mind that he's here. there's a moment of silence where he doesn't know what else to say, but hopes maybe ingvar will settle into whatever comfort looks like for the two of them. ladus isn't even sure what that is. "do you . . . sleep?" the sun has set fully and there's much to climb tomorrow. | @giaunt!
hewwo! i saw that u have a bubbles muse and i remembered the powerpuff girls z series! idk if anime is up ur alley but i thought that i would recommend it anyways :]
hi anon!! sorry for replying to you so late, i haven't checked this blog in quite a bit now. i haven't seen the powerpuff girls z series but i will look into it thank you so much for the rec !!
i've been working extra time these past 2 weeks and doing basically half days on even my days off recently so i haven't really had the time/energy for any muse or writing or replying to messages sorry. i miss you all and i hope everyone is doing well!!!🫂🫂you should tell me one fun thing that has happened in your life or on the dash recently!
guys being on this blog is so hard nobody is talking to me all my muses have closed the shutters and locked their doors so im just wandering around kicking rocks hoping somebody will let me in
❝ forgive me, mrs. suit, but you look terrible. ❞
@strangewonderful & mozzie winters.
elizabeth's laugh is warm and delighted, like the ringing bell of a kid's bicycle. "thank you, mozzie," she says with that warm laughter still in her voice, "that's very helpful." and frustratingly accurate. really, beth should have accepted her help with the wedding planning because the bridesmaid's dress that elizabeth has on has two too many frills and is the greenish-yellow color of a bruise that flatters no one. "what do you think?" her arms are held out to her sides as she does a bit of a twist that sets the skirt twirling "is there any saving this?"
Rachel Gillig, The Knight and the Moth
FILED UNDER [ BURKE, P. ] . . . song associations. “🔊 a leitmotif for my muse” > @shieldborn
unironically, main title and first victim by john williams. yes, this is the jaws theme song and yes i think that the sense of anticipatory dread and oncoming threat that this song evokes is like. . . exactly what peter feels when his neal-sense goes off (the instinctual sense of dread that he experiences whenever he has a feeling that neal has just done something to get himself or someone else into trouble.)
it is a sound that builds a lot from something slow and questioningly menacing to something much more immediately threatening and, while neither peter or neal are the threat, this is the recurring sound of peter's dread. the oncoming threat is the trouble that neal will get himself into that will get him hurt or thrown back in jail, a feat that peter is constantly trying to grapple with. the sound is his own fears and the sense that he is always faced with of these fears being actualized.
the sound is played not as an actual oncoming threat (ie: a shark swimming closer), but as a musical representation of moments when peter is feeling the threat of something happening to neal at it's strongest. it's a representation of his building worries & fears and a growing sense of urgency that he must act to prevent it.
Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 1: 1931-1934
Stephanie Foo, What My Bones Know: A Memoir of Healing from Complex Trauma
All Wally wants to do is to help people. And to see you do that every day while all he can do is stand by and watch…
WILL LEXINGTON ON : when you propose to marry a girl many years your junior who you're only dating for a publicity stunt anyway because you're ashamed of being gay and afraid the media will find out and it'll ruin your budding music career but then you tell her and now she's blackmailing you except you don't realize that the reality tv crew who has been filming your life also got it on video because they had a secret camera recording your bedroom so now they're also blackmailing you both and then your wife who you only married for convenience is sleeping with an evil music executive and she's miserable bc she's in love with him but he's evil and then she tries to kill herself so you finally divorce her
Ilya Kaminsky, from "A Cigarette", Deaf Republic
"i'll have you know, i'm actually really good with babies." he smiles, no fight put up at the loss of the toy. what he knows about peter's son is little, and it's almost odd -- they used to make it their business to know each other's business. neal thinks about the birthday cards and the holidays cards and everything he'd ever learned about peter, and later elizabeth. it was hard, not to reach, not to reach for information. he could have, it never was far from his fingertips to, but it would've been so utterly selfish -- so utterly the man he was trying to pretend was buried.
his eyes find the pictures, how he didn't land on them at first neal isn't sure, but every inch of the mantel top and free space on the shelves is taken up by the same brown haired growing boy. he's every bit both his parents, with a half grin in almost every frame, and it's hard not to stare.
when neal turns, like everything in the burke home that's now subject to his curious eyes, peter's face is combed from top to bottom. he shows the years, there's some grays at his temples that neal doesn't remember being there before. he looks between him and the pictures. "something tells me that smile's been giving you a run for your money."
is that something he has now? experience with babies? what did neal get up to for those eight years? is there a wife and kid out there somewhere? in paris, maybe. peter always thought neal would have picked paris. he'd pull out a map sometimes and start circling places on it—somewhere with culture, beautiful women, a crowd to slip into. and paris is flashy; he'd love paris.
he opens his mouth, but can't actually ask the question. "of course you are, you're not much older than one." calling him immature: safe territory.
there's a weird double vision seeing neal in his home again, at the same time here and ten years in the past; seeing neal with longer hair and a black turtleneck, sitting on his couch petting his dog; neal in a tux; neal flipping that stupid hat onto his head. peter used to spend so much time worrying about the future—neal's future—and now he's stuck in the past. there's two neals to worry about now. it's the greatest problem peter has ever faced in his life. "oh, you have no idea," peter huffs out a laugh. that kid runs circles around him and he dreads the day that neal begins to show an interest in renaissance art and tailored suits. "but he's less trouble than you were." barely.
& el bc they should always belong together
