#hat.

[cutenervousyoungthing]

hat.

[extrashortshorts]

this

i called him a caterpillar at least 20 times after seeing this so...

[sims2-and-penguins-lover]

top 10 cool things to do while listening to Type o Negative

#1:

[captainkurosolaire]

[Insight]: 神 Saltsong 🎼

Many have tried to conquer me, all have failed. Many have tried to earn my favour, but I am unswayed. The ocean is old, old, old and when you are dust, I will still be here. But those I favour may find themselves blessed, their sails full and winds kind.

Ft. @the-littlest-kojin

[thingexplainer]

h-hat

[noccolibroccoli]

I lost one of my favorite hats today and I had a feeling I knew where it was but I was way too tired to go looking for it so I just kinda resigned myself to it being lost but I did put a word out to some of my friends that I'd lost it just in case anyone happened to be in the area (I knew some of them would be over that way tonight)

and one of my friends went to go look, didn't find it. Said she'd check again on her way home to be sure.

And she just texted me 10 minutes ago and, HAT.

I have good friends :)

[minotaurus-archive]

where — helicon, pontius. when — week 1 of kalavria with — @alectocarrion

He feels tension gathering between his shoulders, right at that place where his neck begins, where it always tends to gather. It nags, pulls, grows taut, and Mino seems unable to fight it. He should not be here, in this place where his want could be awakened again, where he sees Ari everywhere. He should not be here: he made a decision, in Olympe, to stick to Tartarus and accept that that’s what life is and will be. No looking forward to potential golden horizons, but resignation or acceptance or commitment, or all at once.

But here he is, staring at a golden horizon all the same. The sun sinks in the sea and Mino breathes salty air and he rubs at his neck. This could be almost peaceful. He counts the day in his head. He’s deadly aware of his surroundings, even as he stands in the open, even as he tries to just stare. 

There are a few names here, on Pontius, that are on his mind. The main one is that of his brother, but there is Alecto, too. He follows her from the corner of his eyes when she happens to be in the vicinity, worries with a distant numbness, hopes that whatever words Poseidon had spoken at Heteraidia were true; that she had it better here. When she enters the deck, she’s registered as a presence, as everyone is. He’s not working, but he’s still on. 

He does not think Alecto Carrion a security threat, though. He remains standing, for a few minutes, staring at that horizon, which grows pinker and pinker. And then, when he feels certain it’s alright, he approaches, “Hi.” A stiff greeting. He does not touch his neck any more, but he feels his tenseness grow. “I never got a chance to give you your hat.”