#( isms. )

[mielmoto]

friendly reminder that—especially if your muse has any arcane/magical/supernatural inclination—it's wholesale possible that they look at honey and perceive that there's something... off. the fact that she does have some Real Human Blood in her makes it easier to pass unnoticed than most fey, but the charming / beguiling nature of the kin is still there.

it could be a sort of light-headedness, fuzzy, dreamlike, or even an uncanny valley sort of feel—intriguing, enticing, and unsettling all at once. and while she tries to keep a handle on it, it can also manifest in shared emotions: as fey emotions tend to bend and shape the environment around them.

[cendrilons]

cindy kinda does throw the word "love" around loosely but know that she means it. romantic, platonic, whatever. and if you've got a problem w it, she's like "sorry i have so much love to share. sorry you never let yourself have any"

[gilledman]

i'm passing out but compilation of the most gill to ever gill doodles by varnie.vamp on instagram. ☝️🐟

[stcrgirl]

what color does your love feel like?

BRIGHT SUNNY YELLOW. sweet tasting popsicles, summer dresses and shielding your eyes from the sun. your love is the excitement of something brewing, something growing. it's the almost childish bubbling giggles of something new, but with the potential to stay. it's wide smiles, blinding sunny light and warm bodies that gravitate to one another. it's the softness, the willingness, the slight holding of breaths in a crucial "what if" moment. it's the impatience too. the bouncing on tiptoes to see further than your eyes can reach, the holding out for a future that never seems to come even though you're ready, you're so so so ready. it's the constant feeling of warm sand beneath your feet, holding out for the crashing waves. and still you wait, dry and impatient and with burnt soles of feet. your love is sour candy, enjoying it as your nose scrunches up from the aftertaste of it.

it's hands that grab and take hold, that reach and ask them to stay and hope and beg and wait. it's bubbling excitement sure, but it's also demanding, focused, driven. it's love like a plan, with a path and route and a clear destination. and you bounce on your tiptoes, and burning, waiting for the soothing water, the crashing waves, you hold onto the melting popsicle, you wait and wait and wait. it's tiring almost as much as it's lazer focused ambition, deeply rooted desire and the unrelenting hope that it will work, that it will come. and it does, i promise it does. the waves crash, the beach floods and the pain passes, the water cool and soothing and you can let yourself fall in, sinking, sinking. and it's good, it's perfect, what you were hoping and more, holding and embracing you and welcoming you into the stillness you always knew you were reaching for.

tagged by: - tagging: @tragicale, @nohound ( alex ), @mu1tiverse ( miggy ), @arachnidiots ( liam ), @otlaw, @innocentsbled ( tory ), @ow1et, @taughtdefense, @taughtpain, @nosestealer, @nofinalgirl.

[dissimulxte]

[nudges her face against yours like a cat]

[skehrcrow]

henley’s voice claim also…… 🖤

[princessred]

♥♠ what kind of herb are you? cumin.

you see yourself so clearly that you can see the gaping hole inside you where you lost a piece long ago. it's there and it's ragged and painful and bleeding and you don't know how no one else can see it when it takes up so much of your awareness. you run from it, fight it, try to find it but nothing bandages up that hungry mawing void inside yourself and when you're tired, uninspired, you swear it grows and grows. you promise yourself you want to be alone, promise yourself that you want to be different, want to be special, love having this hole inside you and point it out in words or song or jokes and stories and take pride in that pain, in your uniqueness in this world of grays and storm clouds. you are 5 am rain on asphalt roads and sputtering street lamps. you are petrichor musings and messy guitar chords and a thousand contradictions wrapped inside a quiet cry, an evening of coffee and jittering hands and a promise that you're okay or that you're fine until you're falling apart in someone's arms or messages and pretend you're alright in the morning. you taste so strongly but sometimes you wonder if all you are is ash.

tagged by: myself :) tagging: @evlest, @tragicale, @girlmisfit, @vermaxs, @calithal, anyone else who wants to!

[cromwellharvests]

in a more sincere answer, though: no, Easy doesn't really have an easily identifiable "type." the people she's been attracted to vary widely across spectrums of features, presentation, and standing. the fact of the matter is that Easy, in her infallible nature to seek out the best in everyone she meets and find beauty in the littlest qualities, could probably find her way to love with almost anyone she meets... the only really important quality is their passion.

that they be driven toward something, and pursue it with conviction. she understands what can drive people to apathy, but can't find herself developing feelings for someone who is emotionally resigned or disengaged with the world around them. she's drawn to confidence, to strong wills and resolve; to excitement and unashamed ownership of one's pleasures, talents, and beliefs.

[rosaeura]

aurora: not every girl is as stable as me! *slowly crushes a can against her forehead*

[houseflyy]

[mielmoto]

what soft romance cliché are you?

oh.

the italicized oh. often seen in romance novels and fanfics. when a character looks at someone, wondering why their chest tightens when they're near, why their heart beats quicken at the slightest touches, why they lose their breath at the sight of them and suddenly realization dawns on them— oh.

they've been in love for a long time now.

you are soft and quiet, probably the most overlooked. though when you love, you fall deeply. i'm sure you have a lot of anxieties when it comes to love, and you're more inclined to fall in love with a longtime friend than a stranger. though, your love is pure. and maybe if you have someone in mind, this is your sign to tell them.

tagged by @mariotime

[honeydeiws]

honeydew hates being called cute (unless she likes you and allows u to do it) bc she wants to be taken seriously! she left her family bc they didn’t take her seriously and it does upset her when people think she’s just some cute little pet or toy—bc that’s the impression it gives to her, that you don’t see her as a person, you see her as some cute little thing to play with.

[gilledman]

[deputyzed]

random headcanon of the day: as a true washingtonian at heart, samira drives a subaru

[dissimulxte]

Mari knows enough about technology and the 'cyber' side of crime to get by, but that avenue of theft has never been very interesting to her. The tangible nature of the things she steals is so much a part of what makes the ordeal satisfying, along with all the theatre and pageantry which accompany the heist: physically maneuvering through spaces, sleight of hand, and, of course, the mimicry and disguise in which her expertise lies—the ultimate 'prize,' whatever it may be, only accounts for a fraction of the pleasure she derives from any ordeal.

She'll con well-to-do marks out of their money, without a doubt, and has a good time playing her part in said roles, but she prefers almost any other expensive trophy over simple cash, ( think of these gigs more as the 'day job' portion of her career—simpler fixes to fund her lifestyle between much grander affairs ).

Jewels are a favorite, ( as one might stereotypically expect from any lavish cat burglar ), even better if it's actual jewelry, because she likes to enjoy the spoils of her work for some time after each job ends: wearing the twenty-two million dollar earrings out for a night on the town, or a so-called 'priceless' necklace to the opening night of a local play—so on, and so forth.

The same goes for artworks: Mari keeps a small, constantly-cycling gallery in her abode and spends a great deal of time admiring the craftsmanship and timeless beauty of whichever pieces she's pilfered for a time. There's a small selection of works she doesn't ever intend to ransom back to their original collectors, but more often than not, she keeps them for a short period before finding some equally clever way to place them back in their original care—sometimes at a high price, or sometimes for none at all, depending on the source ( she doesn't want to extort some of the smaller institutions clear out of business, of course ).

[rosarots]

(mother)Oo (●ˇ∀ˇ●) < ik what you are) (눈_눈) oO( ...what am i? )