One Nice Bug Per Day
Cosmic Funnies
AnasAbdin
todays bird
if i look back, i am lost
tumblr dot com
h
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
titsay
Sweet Seals For You, Always
JBB: An Artblog!
shark vs the universe
sheepfilms
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
Monterey Bay Aquarium
hello vonnie
Janaina Medeiros
No title available
Misplaced Lens Cap
we're not kids anymore.
seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from South Korea
seen from Germany
seen from Malaysia
seen from Brazil
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from Italy
seen from United States
seen from Singapore
seen from Israel
seen from Germany
seen from Türkiye
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Germany
seen from Indonesia
seen from Taiwan
@timesbomb
chest cavity hollows out to show a chasm ─── the TIMESBOMB set to detonate a day too soon. heart splatters in a gruesome display; love's dying breath, grieving itself as a final act of ego. there will be a tomorrow and we will not see it, for the sense of self has eaten it whole.
𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚜𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗. 𓂃 ₊ ⊹ muse list & edits !
been infected with hockeybrain in addition to horrible workload due to holidays.... will be here when its my break <3
THE GESTURE OF IT ALL IS HEARTWARMING, there's no denying. it's also slightly concerning, but helen decides not to focus on this — it's almost christmas, after all. she can't help the way her lips curve at verity's compliment of her own decorating skills, quantity obviously having been the vision here. and at that she's succeeded. « i am absolutely speechless, » she agrees with a giggle. she touches the tree in awe, smile faltering slightly at the other's words. helen turns to look at her with furrowed brows. « verity, dearest, you should've waited for me, » she coos, can't ever get angry with her when her heart and her intentions are always so good. « we shouldn't allow random teenage boys into our apartment, okay ? some people are just ... kinda bad ? and i don't want you to end up in that. promise me, okay ? » the fact that she hasn't lost verity to some psycho they'll make a true crime podcast about someday already is beyond her. « strangers aside, it does look good though. you did very well. »
words go in one ear and out the other at the sight of a smile on helen's face — it was a crux of hers to be certain, but one that was welcome nonetheless. sure, there should be a level of self preservation present in her body, what with her age and presumed level of street smarts, however she was one to believe in the goodness of all, and that she would survive in spite of scary situations that may occur. a pet name causes further swooning, small frame falling to couch to cope with the overly-dramatic antics she was sure to stumble into. ❛❛ well i won't do it again, but you better be on speed dial. i have a lot of important two person tasks, almost too many for you to ever leave this house again ! ❜❜ a soft string of laughter follows, eyes once again scanning the room for something more to add to it. there was in fact, never enough decor, never enough color, and certainly never enough glitter, in her eyes. ❛❛ i still feel like it needs something. do you think it will feel whole when there are presents under the tree ? i don't really think i have many to throw under there though…. should i wrap random boxes and force us to go on a teeny scavenger hunt through them come christmas day ? ❜❜
this week has beat me over the head with a hammer. here this weekend to reply to dms and threads and all that jazz! edit: i have the signature "about to have a dire cold" tickle in my throat so bare with me!!
open to. f/nb plot. margot ( twenty9, lesbian ) lied to their family about dating someone, and now they're asking your muse to be their fake partner for the holidays.
“ come on, it's just … ” margot pauses, counting on her fingers, “ … three days. you can pretend for that long, right? ” her tone is practically begging now, desperate for the other to accept her boon. “ i promise i'll return the favor, i just — i really need this. ”
pensive gaze raises from floorboards, and henri cannot say no to a borderline desperate plea, no matter how hard he direly wishes to. ❛❛ i guess i can. there's no need to return the favor though — i don't really make it a habit of lying to this degree. ❜❜ she had not meant to be so rude, words slipping off tongue without second thought, but it was a truth — she was honest to a fault, and was severely doubting her ability to pull this off in the slightest. ❛❛ what would we even need to do ? like, how long have you told them we were together for ? please tell me its under a year. i don't want to also have to field questions about marriage. ❜❜
junseo does not go out. fingers fidget in the pocket of his coat, curling into fists before relaxing, only to drum against the inner lining. had only accepted the notion of a blind date to keep his very persistent, very well-meaning roommate appeased. lips quirk into a smile, knowing the exact place she mentioned — too loud, too grimy for him as well. he thinks to agree a moment too late, conversation already filling the mute pause. timing is something to be worked on, he knows; more living in the moment, less mulling over each syllable of every word before it tumbles out. smile softens a bit, ❝ that's okay, don't have to worry about entertaining me. ❞ a pause as he once again considers his words, ❝ not like that, i mean. i'm sure you're plenty entertaining with all of ballet notions removed. is that how you hurt your ankle? ❞
silence was akin to a saw trap — pressing on her ribcage with an urge to fill the gaps, and yet knowing that it would be what led to her looking like an absolute fool in front of the other. while typically she performed well under a mild amount of stress, putting herself fully out there was significantly higher than mild — and as such, led to awkward pauses, fear of silence gone on too long, and inner thoughts that ran in circles. own spiral broken by the other's words, delilah finds eyes drifting over — scanning the other's face as the conversation tumbles through her own life's feats. laughter feels comfortable at the other's misstep of words, a bite of a lower lip to keep herself reigned in, so as to continue to border the line between interested and nonchalant. ❛❛ i'm glad you have such faith in me. it is how i hurt my ankle though — thankfully it was not mid performance, but it still was horrible. it's really weird when you have to recover from something that's both technically a sports injury and technically not. my roommates were acting like i was a giant baby for having to ice such a minor problem, and my instructors were telling me that walking down the street to get myself pho was too much stress. ❜❜ a brief pause, almost as if checking in with herself — how much of your life was too much to share with someone ? no one hands out a manual for a first date, though she is certain there should be a market for it. ❛❛ i guess the job is what keeps me here despite being so obnoxious to handle — do you have anything that keeps you in the city ? ❜❜
THEY'RE DANCING DANGEROUSLY CLOSE to a fire. florian can feel the flames lick at him and yet every time he dares to reach out, riaz moves away. he's probably smart to, but unfortunately the frenchman has never learned to recognize dangers — or rather, he recognizes only to promptly ignore. for the sake of truth and science and a curiosity that cannot be extinguished. « remind me of your age again, would you be so kind ? » he questions, his lips curving as he continues to poke and prod. whilst florian is ceaseless in his scientific endeavors, he's never had much decorum when in conversation with others. pros and cons. at least riaz doesn't seem to be easily offended, though the archaeologist suspects riaz has been around for so long there may not be anything to find offense with anymore. florian grabs gently at the other's arm, pulling him out of other's earshot, his own voice lowering to a mere whisper. « you know what it is i want to ask, riaz. please. it is killing me to not know how you disappear into thin air and then appear with ... amazing stories that are nowhere near rooted in reality. » there is nothing accusatory in his voice — just the panic of being left in the unknown.
a fly caught in a web almost always stays stuck — riaz knew this, and yet perilously continued attempts to wiggle his way out of the gossamer webs that he found woven around himself, at the hands of the other's seemingly innocent prodding. how fucking old was he ? the fact should be easily recitable, but he could not just say he never aged, that was absolutely ridiculous. aside that matter, he also actively avoided mirrors or anything of the sort — something uncanny about the way perception shifts based on space occupied. ❛❛ i'm uh…. thirty three. did you forget this fact so soon ? ❜❜ spin it back on him, as if that manner would work to quench any form of curiosity. it was the pull of his arm that brought him back to the present — out of the mechanisms of mind formulating escape plans that somehow always end in failure. a crack in his facade was easily seen at the sound of a plea ringing in ears — he was easily broken down, as much was frequently told to him in reviews of his missions, and especially present in his failures. a soft pause acts as buffer, a blanket over the whispers being exchanged, silencing them with a familiar warmth. his own hand finds place on top of the other's, bridging an unspoken gap, eyes locking as if concrete answer were to come. ❛❛ you will not ask, and you will not ever know. what you believe is most likely true, but if you truly question it you will be stuck as i am. trust in my words — you do not want to see what i see, and you certainly do not want to do what i do. i do not seem rooted in reality because reality does not wish to be interwoven with such a cacophony as me — it is not the opposite. ❜❜
he couldn't hide the sigh of relief – even if mara was angry, knowing the door wasn't slammed in his face was enough for now. hands tucked in the back pocket of his jeans, head hanging low as she snapped at him. she wasn't wrong, sure. still he wasn't one to let someone have the last word. “you're not innocent in that, mara, and you know it." exasperation flowing through his words. she was mad, and still in the mindset to argue with him on top of it. “what is it that you want then?” mason questioned, closing the space between them. “i would assume i come back because... i want this relationship to work. i'm trying, i really am. i don't know what you want anymore.”
restraint was a practiced art form, one that was woven beneath mara's skin in an intricate pattern — a sign from above in some way that she was meant to not get herself in trouble on this night in particular. it was something about the other, something in the way his eyes caught hers in the silence, that kept her going in this loop that would inevitably be her own downfall. ❛❛ god, spare me some grace. at least i don't attempt to come back after a fight to make amends like an insane person. ❜❜ eyes roll as if they could be a form of verbal communication, and arms tense to hold self, a barrier of sorts from the approaching man. she would not — could not succumb to his charms after actively having a pep talk in the mirror to do the exact opposite. ❛❛ i want you to be someone that i do not think you have the capacity to be. someone who cares about me enough to come to stupid work events — and someone that i could trust to not get beat by a toddler in a game of charades at said work event. and someone who won't try to get me more angry when i am already pissed off. ❜❜ the sigh comes naturally, and she finds herself walking towards kitchen, knowing she would hear the familiar pat of footsteps behind her — ever the lapdog that bites. ❛❛ you just know how to find my last nerve and jump on it repeatedly. it feels like i'm treated like one of the boys that you can fuck around with when i am very clearly not that. ❜❜
he hadn't quite noticed her entrance, no matter how often he swears up and down to himself that he's prepared for it. ❛ lucky? ❜ the word slips out of him before he can cage it. the smile she wears both unsettles and endears him, so his rationale can only think to conjure a grin in response, equal parts boyish and predictable. ❛ were you dropping by to see me, or is it the tigers that pique your interest? ❜ he's looking for a confirmation of suspicions that would give grounds to the way his stomach flips, albeit already having made peace with the fact that her dismissal was far more probable. torso straightens automatically as saint's shift in conscious is abrupt; by no means is he clothed in his sunday best, and his most discernible of physical qualities are the purplish crescents formed below lower eyelids. a telltale sign of his lack of self - preservation. ❛ nothing important, just a stage piece, probably. if it doesn't explode, that is. ❜ clears his throat in the spirit of forcing confidence back into a voice that stubbornly disobeys him so long as she's present. ❛ you're not a distraction, ❜ he adds, but winces at the eagerness of it. ❛ i mean, like, you can stay. i'm just tinkering. ❜ gestures toward the wrench held taut in his palm with the free one, and then toward the empty bench by his workstation. beneath all of her practiced ease does he notice the tension displayed in her shoulders. ❛ are we going to address the elephant in the room and discuss what changed your mind about visiting the circus? ❜
rationally, stomach could not flip if it did not exist. but the feeling in her gut spoke to the irrational part of self — sound of her own voice in a space she proclaimed a detest towards making heart race a tick faster than average. truthfully, it was not something to address in this exact moment, saved to a bin in the recesses of mind for when files are to go over — but nonetheless the knowledge settled in the forefront, centered between mismatched iris, a throbbing migraine aching to be dealt with. ❛❛ tigers ? gods no, those things smell and probably have diseases. i'm here for you, is that really so shocking ? ❜❜ knowing fully well the immediate reaction such knowledge would grant — he was a quite obvious man. slight grin painted lip, tarnished near immediate by the recognition of the state the man was in. concern was a kind means of describing the way gaze drifted to the other, caught on the echoes of sleepless nights, squinting as if it would make purpled skin disappear, as if there was a means to fix the past that she had not already thought of. ❛❛ saint, have you taken a break from this ? ever in the last week ? if it's unimportant, and potentially explosive, i would hope you would be well rested to deal with it. ❜❜ laughter escapes as if gunshot — pierces the room, unexpected even from herself, mechanical frame bending to cover mouth as if she could push it back in. ❛❛ i'm sorry i — i did not mean to laugh. you just seem a bit like you want me here but do not want to say it in so many words, and it's kind of obvious. ❜❜ knowing smile follows heeled foot towards the workbench, lifting self onto wooden top as if it was second nature, and not entirely unnatural of her to settle in so easily. she was trying, and that was apparently evident to the other, though she had prior believed him to be a bit too obtuse to read between the lines. legs cross acting as barrier to world, a shield in a time when necessary, and lucky gives herself moment to simply observe — to focus eye on the shape of a wrench, to the mechanism on tabletop, forcing self to all but avoid other entirely, to get something out of an environment other than the person inside of it. gaze finally settles on saint, and she is entirely unprepared for the statement he utters — confidence stripped from iris and body visibly deflating, a fish out of water. ❛❛ i just wanted to stop in. i realized it was unkind of me to never see the place you cared about so much — i always made you meet me somewhere and never on your own stomping ground. i figured it would be nice, i guess ? plus i'm interested in what you work on. you could be over here secretly tinkering on the next best robotic arm and i wouldn't even know it, and then i would look stupid for not having an in on the best tech. ❜❜ partial lie slides off tongue — eyes transfixed on corner of the room, praying that he did not read through it and knowing that he very well may. hand drifts towards a screwdriver, toying with the tool between cold fingertips. ❛❛ i could help, if you need it. ❜❜
blog now suiting my level of holiday spirit, as well as adding my new conspiracy theorist muse ! i am theoretically up to date with starters / replies, so if i missed you please dm !
HELEN'S ALWAYS BEEN TOLD she's pragmatic to a fault, and perhaps, to some extent, this rings true. after the shock of their apartment's transformation has died down, her second thought is that this will take forever to take down, which is far too premature to worry about now. « i don't know, i'm pretty sure it would look something like this, » she argues, waving her hand around. she likes christmas too, but as she regards their home and verity amidst it all, she's starting to doubt this fact. « no, of course. this is the perfect excuse. i didn't even know we had all of this. and how on earth did you get a tree up the stairs ? »
if one were to describe verity, dense would almost be too kind of a word. the obvious distaste the other had went directly over her head, latching onto only kind words, mind morphing any form of malice into something of beauty. it was wonderful how her mind worked — a gentle nod to herself at how good of a job she did that it looked almost horrifically well decorated. ❛❛ well thank you for such a generous compliment on my beautiful decor — i knew it would be too good for words ! ❜❜ smile beamed across face as small frame trapezed through decor, hair getting stuck on tinsel hanging a tinge too low, just another quirk she would come to love, for certain. ❛❛ oh, the christmas tree ? well i stood outside for about 20 minutes looking as clueless as i possibly could. i even started to cry a little bit — and then some teenage boys said they would come help me ! they were so kind. they even put it in the stand and everything ! the christmas spirit is so strong among the youth these days, clearly. they did not even ask for payment — just asked me to follow their tiktok ? it's a weird account, but whatever uplifts young artists ! ❜❜
open to: f/nb/m (selectively unless we're mutuals) muse: laurant theriot- physically appears thirty || he/they || death/grief counselor || dev patel inspo: royal advisor/church advocacy/personal knight who's been raised alongside (or in close proximity to i.e. same court) to the queen/princess/king/princess/head of the guard/etc. and has a very good understanding of their style as a ruler/leader but also... sees them as a child :' ) or someone that needs him to come in and save them !!! may or may not forget his place at times (always) please be sure to read my rules prior to replying!!
"are you sure this is the best courses of action?" it was hardly a proper greeting to anyone for those with manners, but even less appropriate given the disparity in their stations. still, laurie pressed on. "i beg you to reconsider: i think you are barreling head first into a fight you are grossly under-prepared for!" what may have come across as doubt in their ability was simply concern, but the stern furrow of his brow certainly didn't help his cause. "i thought we agreed you and i would speak about this before any decisions were made..."
subservience was to be expected, so something out of the ordinary was exactly what themis wished for when facing times of peril. there was something so grating about everyone agreeing — bending the knee to her decisions regardless of impact, letting her choose any which way the wind blows on a given day. ❛❛ can you truly ever be so sure of anything in this world ? i could state that i am certain and people will still die. i could be uncertain, and the war will come to fruition regardless. ❜❜ gloved hand comes to rest on temple as if focus could help her — mind still at war with self over bending the knee to one side or the other. ahead of her was someone who she did genuinely value, someone warning her as to her own shortcomings with hasty decisions, that she simply could not come to listen to. ❛❛ i spoke with you that i was to make a decision. i was unsure of it until it left my mouth, and still come to you unsure of it. i have absolutely no logic or rationale behind it, i just pray that it comes to fruition with the least cruelty. is that not enough ? ❜❜
for @heartantique !
the stench of the circus was not entirely unwelcome, though on this occasion, she wished that they had an air freshener or two. it was not her favorite type of mission, meddling within her own personal affairs for the greater of her ideal future for said timeline, but it was one she held close enough to her heart to complete. feet tap upon uneven flooring — mind wandering to the ways in which they absolutely needed to improve to limit injury — until eyes crest upon the man ahead of her, at work exactly where she pleaded he would be absent. ❛❛ surprise ? ❜❜ unfamiliar smile forms upon lips, and frame enters the room ever so slightly further, tilting as if interested, as if she was not already entirely aware of what he was up to. ❛❛ i figured stopping in would not be the worst of my decisions this month, so here i am. what exactly is that that you are working on ? something new for the stage, or a personal project ? ❜❜ inching ever so slightly closer, entering personal space, assumedly entirely welcome within the bubble if her observations of their relationship were correct. it was difficult to mask her intent — knowing he could read her like a book was enough to uneasy her stance, and the fact that she would also have to convince him of something was like preparing a fight with a brick wall. ❛❛ feel free to shoo me if i am a distraction — you seemed rather focused. ❜❜
for @tamagotchus !
solid ground was not entirely unwelcome, though the nausea settled in the depths of his gut told otherwise. it was like this frequently — when born and raised on seas, solid ground became the enemy of the conscious, the crux of her stoicism. ❛❛ blessed be whoever can tolerate the sands for as long as they do — good god. ❜❜ mumblings to self, to the heavens, to anyone who will listen. while she would not describe herself as altogether lonely, and its certain that her crewmates would have her hung if she did, there was an ache betwixt bone marrow that yearned for something greater — something akin to a true life lived. body sinks into sand, water nipping at toes, and the ache subdues into the water below. silent winds swept through ears, and a calling to speak came to throat. ❛❛ have i not had enough to endure ? must i continue through a path amongst these imbeciles they continue to throw at me ? ❜❜
if you don’t get to strap a knife to your thigh underneath a flowing ballgown while dancing with your rival at least once then what is the point
for @halohaunt !
there was no excuse for her lateness — though every excuse in the book was waiting on tip of tongue, the irritation present on face was enough to give an explanation. ❛❛ apologies, i typically am on time for things such as this. transit and whatnot getting ahead of me. ❜❜ pale eyes blink at the other, head tilting as documents are pulled out, sprawled down tabletop. ❛❛ now, are you aware of what exactly you are getting yourself into with this contract ? i mean, i'm not the most agreeable person to work with. typically people meet me on this occasion and shred them to bits, so i won't be offended if you take that route. ❜❜
for @halohaunt !
it was entirely perplexing, to find herself by the water's edge again, railing holding frame in place from tumbling right over the edge. it wasn't as if that would be ideal for her — she could not swim, after all, and that fact was rather embarrassing to disclose upon someone she could not say she knew too intimately. ❛❛ i haven't been down this way in a while. maybe not since they opened that new dive bar — my roommate tried to drag me in there the first day and it was a bit too gross for our tastes. ❜❜ a pause, as if silence could fix any of her nerves. ❛❛ sorry if i'm not as entertaining as you thought. i know the whole ballerina thing typically makes people think that i have some kind of tale to tell — but really, i don't. the most interesting thing that has happened to me in the past year was twisting an ankle and having to binge all of sex and the city — which was so not accurate, at least in my opinion. ❜❜
