#snailshells

[rickrobb58]

#benihana #samurai with #snailshells in #rickrobbsgarden2023 #hashtaghashtag https://www.instagram.com/p/CqJn5ePPbIn/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[mercuryclan]

MercuryClan has begun their life in the wastes! It's going....mostly well!

(in future, I likely won't include every cat's doings/every patrol, but it felt right to do so for the starting moon!)

With that, you can now send asks to everyone!

[druidofsuburbs]

Enjoy the cool water of the tide running out

[coffeenuts]

[silvencreativestudios]

This Roman bronze oil lamp fixture in the form of a snail peeking out of its shell was found in Pompeii, dating to the C1st BC or AD. 🐌 ✨🤎 📸✨Mary Harrsch #history #rome #ancientrome #pompeii #ancient #ancientcivilization #ancienthistory #ancientart #historynerd #historyfacts #historylovers #historybuff #historylover #coolfacts #snail #snails #snailshell #snailsofinstagram #snailsbelike #homedecor #homedesign #interiordesign (at Pompeii, Italy) https://www.instagram.com/p/CoxKO7hLL3b/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[nuo2x2]

Milk Tea Girl By Snail Shell

Taken by nuo2x2 with Sony ZV-1

morning, feeling smexy and deadly today... lol

might be the most iconic and hyped figure back in 2022...

[razorsharpteeth]

Would you be a snail, a worm, or a slug?

Snail, of course. I'd have a little place to stay in, for free.

[cafecreme8]

The feeling when you are yourself and do what you want,say what you want,make what you want and then..then somebody say: " don't do that,don't say that,but in a disrespective way for you and they are in your circle of friends.

If you are traumatized because you have been silenced, you will react by retreating into your snail shell and you will be quiet again because you still haven't healed from that trauma. And you don't know when will you.

[yoshistory]

ALLLLLLLMOST CAUSED A HOUSE FIRE. NEVER AGAIN

[scribblesartcollective]

Getting ready to put these into the shop! Do you have a favorite fossil? Ammonites are a subclass of animal and may look like a snail but are actually more closely related to octopus, squid and cuttlefish. Pin designed by @onioncakes #ammonite #fossils #pin #enamelpins #pindesigner #pincollector #pincollection #mollusk #devonian #devonianperiod #indexfossil #snail #snailshell #cephalopod #extinctanimals #prehistoricocean #prehistoric #ammonoids (at Scribbles Art Collective) https://www.instagram.com/p/CosqxmtyHaC/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[mercuryclan]

Oh? What's this?

[druidofsuburbs]

Enjoy the cool water of the tide running out

[hazysnail]

✨ Waffle & spongebob snails:)!!! . . Todays the last day of my buy one, get one 30% off sale in the shop if you guys wanted to snag anything🫶🏻!!! Includes everything, even clearance & the halloween pieces👻 . Hope you all have a good tues😚 . . Resin: @totalboat use HAZYSNAIL to save $$ . . . #snailart #snailsofinstagram #snailshell #petsnails #hazysnail #cottagecoreart #mosscore #goblincore #goblincoreaesthetic (at New Jersey) https://www.instagram.com/p/CkbTSdtOfPE/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[nikishara]

The warden of a garden #snailshell #snailphotography #snail🐌 #snaillovers #snailinflower #europeandaisy #helixlucorum #michaelmasdaisy #europeanmichaelmasdaisy #macrosnail #snailmacro #daisyflower https://www.instagram.com/p/CjlhZl1rBpw/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[luveline]

Hello! Would it be alright to request something where prince!steve and his Princess attend their first formal event together?

tysm for requesting ♡ prince steve au

"Don't spill anything," Steve advises under his breath. "Your corset is alabaster." 

"I know. I feel like breathing the wrong way is gonna crack it like papier mache." 

He snorts, adjusting your hand on his arm to the correct position where you stand around a corner from the grand staircase. You wince as rich laughter bounces off the marble steps, the sound wrought with a feeling akin to hounds snapping at your heels. 

"Your nails look nice," Steve says. 

He's already complimented your face, your hair, and your dress. There's not much left to praise, but he finds something anyhow, and a flush of pleasure warms your skin. "Thank you," you say, looking down at your painted nails, a shimmering mother of pearl lacquer coating each one. The cost rivals a month's groceries. "They had so many colours… we started with red, but I thought it looked silly on me. My hands are weird." 

"Your hands are perfect." His eyes shine with sincerity, lips pulled into an amused smile that feels like a well-aimed bop to the chest. "I can get you more. Nail lacquer, I mean. There's a small Sri Lankan boutique by Cordelian House, they have all that intricate cosmetic stuff. It's where Munson gets his kohl sticks." He smiles at you reassuringly. "I'm trying to distract you. It's not working, is it?" 

"I'm going to mess up. Your mom– the queen–" 

"You can call her my mom. That's what she is." Steve nods his understanding of the things you've said without saying them. "She'll be disappointed if you mess up. But I won't be. I'm proud of you for even putting on the dress. I'd be proud of you if you didn't." 

You lick your lips, cherry balm sticky on the tip of your tongue. "Thank you, Steve." 

He says things like this with little regard for how forward it is. Not that subtlety is required. While antiquated in some aspects, the contemporary royal society is loudly lustful. You and Steve could be intimate together now weeks before the wedding and nobody would bat an eye, but you suspect that he's just as unprepared for that as you are, no matter how gently he covers your hand with his. 

There's a short sound like a bird call. Steve straightens his back, his thumb drawing a half circle across your fingers. "Ready?" he asks. 

You nod. You don't really have a choice. 

They announce you together, Prince Steven and his Soul Marked Y/N. It sounds ridiculous to hear his name after weeks of Please, call me Steve, or anything else but Steven. Doubly so to hear you announced as his and not yourself. A simple 'Miss' would have sufficed. Braced for a night of similar small agonies, you hold tight to Steve's arm and begin your descent down the grand staircase and into the foyer. The palace is a structure of white stone that shines silver in some lights, impossible walls of selenite and gauzy silks. The steps are more solid, a plain marble that clicks under the soles of your short heels. 

"Don't let me fall," you say under your breath, the hush of the crowd nearly occluding your voice completely. 

"Never." You can hear his polite smile. "Don't panic." 

You can't not panic, sweat at your naked collar, pearls like beads of ice bobbing with each step you take. The second you reach the floor you deflate with an exhale, your back clicking at the sudden decompression. There's a brief round of applause at your arrival before the cheery music begins anew, the dancing begins again, and the many faces that surround you blur into jewels and elegant clothes, fabrics coloured manilla white, snailshell purple, emerald green, a rainbow of satins swirling this way and that as girls are pushed into spins to the right of the foyer under the ballroom chandelier. 

"You'll dance with me, yeah?" Steve asks tentatively. 

You meet his eyes, all their soft brown gazing at you like you're worth his worry. His lashes twitch as his gaze darts swiftly down and up again. 

"Do I have something?" you ask, lifting your chin. 

"Lipstick. I can fix it?" He brings his hand to your lips before you've answered, using the trimmed nail of his pinky finger to wipe at your lip. You turn still as a porcelain statue, a shiver rushing down your chest at the warmth of his touch.

"You'll dance with me?" he asks again, his knuckle brushing your chin as he drops his hand. 

"Of course I'll dance with you, Steve. We're expected to." 

He throws a glance at the people around you and steps closer. "I want to dance with you because you want to dance. We don't have to do anything. Not this ball, not the dance. Not the wedding." He sighs. "You have choices." 

"No. I don't." Because there glows your wrist. Threads of translucency like spider web and downy feather combined, a sorry hue of blue. 

"Yes, you do," he whispers. "You want to leave? We'll leave right now. I just want you to be happy, and with me." 

You think about it. The weight of hundreds of eyes on your shoulders and the restriction of your corset is making you nauseous. If you left, that sickness would go. But Steve wouldn't get to dance with you.

"I don't want to leave," you say, not sure if you're lying or not. You'd quite like to have his hands on your hips again. And sometimes before the dip he breathes in your ear, says something soft, like Keep going, you got it. 

"No?" he asks, relieved. 

"No. Let's dance. We need the practice…" You offer your hand. He takes it, the smudge of lipstick on his pinky finger like a heart. "I'm sorry. I want to dance." 

"What are you sorry for?" he asks, leaning down to kiss the highest point of your cheek. "Let's dance. If you mess up, I'll mess up worse. I promise. I'll chicken dance in front of everybody."