MISC PROMPTS: “ you must know of the basic law ? ” ↠ @abyssbled
if ronan lynch is a headache, then declan is a migraine: persistent, nagging, and bound to ruin a good day. to his credit, he chose a quiet part of the day to bring his family problems into adam’s workplace. the blazing heat of early may ripples off the pavement, keeping the town’s saturday afternoon activities within the confines of their air conditioning. a handful of cars wait for his attention, including the honda he is in the middle of giving on oil change. adam stands up straight and turns to face declan fully to convey respect, and with all the politeness he can muster, he says, “ is this supposed to be helpful? ”
declan is here for the only reason he is ever here. the school year is over in less than a month, and ronan is failing at least two of his classes, and gansey must be off somewhere in the woods where declan can’t find him. “ i’m aware of your custody arrangement, yes, ” adam pulls a rag from the pocket of his coveralls to wipe the oil from his hands, “ if this is urgent, i can take my lunch break now, ” he says pointedly, a reminder that this is still a place of business, and he’s not being paid to negotiate on ronan’s behalf. if you ask him, which no one usually does, declan is going about fixing the situation the wrong way. setting rules for ronan does about as much as trying to teach a cat to sit on command. “ i don’t know where he is right now, would it help if i called him for you? ”
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t𝒚𝒑𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒑𝒆𝒐𝒑𝒍𝒆 : 𝒅𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒄𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔 - RAZE
adapted from this post ! bold what applies to your muse. repost ; do NOT reblog.
𝙱𝙰𝚁𝙱𝙰𝚁𝙸𝙰𝙽 » toothy grins, stories around the campfire, clothes covered in pet hair, hot temper, old jeans, heartbeat in head, potatoes and steak, beaded jewelry, bruises like galaxies, mementos, backpack stuffed full, craigslist furniture, spontaneous road trips, air ripped from lungs
𝙱𝙰𝚁𝙳 » homemade bread, white lies, easily excited, trying on hats, band geek, pep talks, no impulse control, sunsets, vintage fashion, long showers, selfies, following dreams, rosy cheeks, song mash-ups, pink lemonade with tequila, loves easily, animated storyteller, full of comebacks
𝙲𝙻𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙲 » list of wishes, biting their tongue, band-aids and neosporin, shoulder to cry on, morning sun, necklaces, trial and error, homemade quilts, formal clothing, astrology fan, messages in bottles, pleated braids, speaking up for friends, feathers, motivational quotes, vivid dreams
𝙳𝚁𝚄𝙸𝙳 » bird watching, shy kid, wind chimes, trying to whistle, summer camp, apple orchards, lost in their head, glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling, hoodies, thrift shopping, saving worms off the sidewalk, pig latin, bare feet, thunderstorms, numb fingers, braided hair, naming potted plants
𝙵𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃𝙴𝚁 » goose bumps, leather jackets, adventure, chewing nails, cares deeply but can’t show it, bronze locks, no sleep, taste of iron, netflix binges, never forgets, combat boots, stories behind scars, table for one, official soundtracks, sore calves, trusts themselves the most
𝙼𝙾𝙽𝙺 » always trying to be better, wanderlust, meditation, sweat pants, old photographs, yoga, sleeping in hammocks, nostalgia, minimalist design, breath of fresh air, baby animals, volunteering, perfectionist, doesn’t care about fashion, healthy snacks, noticing the little things
𝙿𝙰𝙻𝙰𝙳𝙸𝙽 » school uniforms, thick jackets, sleeping with the windows open, logical advice, scrapbooking, compasses, i fight for my friends, sculpture gardens, cold morning air, big soul, likes routine, secret romantic, last to get jokes, sunflowers, practical presents, misty weather
𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙶𝙴𝚁 » herbal tea, smell of rain, blinking away tears, camping trips, collecting bones, swiss army knives, first impressions, anxious thoughts, bobby pins, burnt marshmallows, too competitive, clothes lines, messenger bags, holding grudges, gets along better with animals than people
𝚁𝙾𝙶𝚄𝙴 » flirtatious sarcasm, candid photos, lost phone chargers, adrenaline rush, picking dirt out from beneath their nails, social chameleon, clashing clothes, self-deprecating jokes, claw machines, sits in chairs wrong, smudged eyeliner, has too many sunglasses, eats nothing or everything
𝚂𝙾𝚁𝙲𝙴𝚁𝙴𝚁 » infectious laugh, family trees, shivers down their spine, lipstick and roses, mood swings, clumsy, believing in destiny, high expectations, sleeping in darkness, collection of nail polish, passionate, good grades but never studies, poetry books, blowing kisses, not knowing their own strength
𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙺 » knowing everyone’s secrets, backpack covered in pins, envy, being in walmart late at night, earl grey, selective memory, conspiracy theories and cryptids, keysmashing, need to know basis, can’t cook, bags under eyes, experimental art, flickering bulbs, black clothing all year long
𝚆𝙸𝚉𝙰𝚁𝙳 » piles of textbooks, cat in lap, keeping a diary, indecisions, scented candles, studying alone in a café, lingering touches, museum dates, unanswered questions, taking on too much responsibility, collections, chalk dust, comfy robes,unnecessary apologies, coming home after a long day
tagged by : stole <3
tagging : @prophezeiung @celestiel @wahrsagung @appleyed @siennabook @loetise
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peep the proko single blog i just made hehe
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𝐢 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢’𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐰 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧. - indie. regulus black. based largely on original worldbuilding and alternate universes, incl. superhero (dc, marveI), spy (kingsman), chronicIes of narnia, regency, mythos, star wars 𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙙
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You're not dead but you're not alive either. You're a ghost with a beating heart.
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’ 𝙵𝙸𝚅𝙴 𝚃𝙸𝙼𝙴𝚂 ’ 𝙳𝚁𝙰𝙱𝙱𝙻𝙴 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚃𝚂.
so i was looking at THIS MEME and THIS MEME and like. there’s something that i just love so much about these?? so essentially, the sender might send in smth like. “five times cried”. and the receiver can respond with a drabble about five times the receiver’s muse cried because of the sender’s muse! if you’re confused, that’s my fault, and that’s also why i have links to two of the memes that inspired this. i hope you all enjoy! as always, do NOT add more to these, i WILL be making a part 2!
five times kissed: ( five times the receiver and sender kissed )
five times hugged: ( five times the receiver hugged the sender )
five times called: ( five times the receiver called the sender’s phone )
five times texted: ( five times the receiver texted the sender )
five times cried: ( five times the receiver cried over the sender )
five times smiled: ( five times the sender made the receiver smile )
five times touched: ( five times the receiver touched the sender (platonically or romantically or otherwise!) )
five times saved: ( five times the sender’s life was saved by the receiver )
five times saved by: ( five times the receiver was saved by the sender. )
five times protected: ( five times the receiver was protected by the sender )
five times protective: ( five times the receiver was protective of the sender )
five times thanked: ( five times the receiver thanked, or felt gratitude towards, the sender )
five times comforted: ( five times the receiver comforted the sender )
five times angered: ( five times the sender made the receiver angry )
five times betrayed: ( five times the receiver was, or felt, betrayed by the sender )
five times saddened: ( five times the receiver felt sad for or because of the sender )
five times worried: ( five times the receiver worried about the sender )
five times relieved: ( five times the receiver felt relieved about the sender )
five times safe: ( five times the receiver felt safe because of the sender )
five times happy: ( five times the sender made the receiver happy. )
five times afraid: ( five times the sender made the receiver feel afraid )
five times hurt: ( five times the sender hurt the receiver or made them feel hurt. )
five times visited: ( five times the sender and receiver visited each other )
five times left: ( five times the sender and receiver parted ways )
five times reunited: ( five times the sender and receiver reunited after being apart for a considerable length of time. )
five times stayed: ( five times the receiver stayed with the sender )
five times glanced: ( five times the receiver stole glances at the sender )
five times glanced at: ( five times the receiver noticed the sender stealing glances at them )
five times healed: ( five times the receiver nursed the sender back to health, or tended to their wounds )
five times watched: ( five times the receiver watched the sender while they were working or doing something )
five times shared: ( five times the receiver shared something (either a material or feelings or secrets!) with the sender )
five times flirted: ( five times the receiver flirted with the sender )
five times blurted: ( five times the receiver impulsively blurted something out to the sender )
five times confessed: ( five times the receiver confessed a secret or feeling to the sender )
five times noticed: ( five times the receiver noticed the sender properly )
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@zukunftsvision › prokopenko › what do you give to a boy who can pull all he needs from thin air? your body, your devotion, your life, if he’ll take them. until then: a key to prokopenko’s front door though he leaves it unlocked every night (an invitation), a length of silky, rich red ribbon (a suggestion), and a tiny engraved compass, smaller than a dime, on a fine, bracelet-sized chain. there’s no explanation, just black ink written on half a sheet of paper torn right out of a notebook: ночь и сон идти одной дорогой
these days kavinsky wakes up with prokopenko’s name burning on his tongue, with his name fueling the fires, or with his name wiped fully from his mind. today, it’s too early to decide if he’ll curse him or if he’ll call him, when he finds the gift proko’s left behind for him, in kavinsky’s very own fashion: sometime, somehow, secret and blatantly unanonymous, without waiting for the immediate reaction but counting on one anyway. it even has a cryptic note that reads ‘ the night and the dream follow the same road ’ in scribbled cyrillic and no other explanation as to what it has to do with anything. the date on his lockscreen ( his game console, his fridge, his digital alarm clock ) is enough of a confession, unavoidable and in-his-face, an obvious nod to all the ways in which k has fucked this up. he regards the compass with a frown, turns it, flips it, shakes it, completely lost on its meaning ( — ironically ). he bunches the ribbon in his fist till it comes out crumpled, slowly unfolding in his hand trying to recover from the aggression, but not yielding any answers. he recognizes the key, and the trust it unlocks, and both his fondness and contempt come to him at once. prokopenko would give everything kavinsky has done nothing to earn.
he puts the compass around his wrist, the key in the pocket of his sweats; the note and ribbon remain on his bed for now, until he decides what to do with them. he’s not made an effort to get proko anything, and why would he? but now he rummages in the drawers of his bedside table that is filled with useless trinkets that may at first glance not at all belong in a bedroom and at second glance not at all belong in this world; he pulls out a small, white mp3 player with tangled matching earbuds. it’s ordinary, but it has no music on it, and if you look closer you’ll see it also doesn’t have any ports to plug it in, neither for charging nor to upload any music, because apparently the battery can’t run out, and there’s nothing to play on it except one track, endless or looped or live broadcast. it’s silence, and the sound of a beating heart. nothing else. no way to pause it, either, unless you turn it off completely or simply stop listening. it’s fucking eerie and k hasn’t listened to it since he dreamt it, though he knows what he’ll hear: the steady rhythm that he feels in his chest and will falter when his heart does, a perfect forgery for this failed attempt. he’ll leave it in proko’s room tonight, tossed on his pillow so he knows it’s a gift. no comment, no explanation. he can ask if he needs to, but he probably won’t.
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kosmogramm·:
🪐 @zukunftsvision· !
delphi lies on her back. with her eyes closed, she can see forever. below, she feels the cool concrete of st. oswald’s rooftop. above, she sees billions of stars — delphinus, scorpius, and lyra are just a few of the constellations — and, since her eyes are closed, she can see planets. not just the ones in their system! hundreds of other systems, too. pink planets. obsidian planets. planets with rings three times the size of saturn’s and moons made of italian cheeses. icy fire planets, with lava oceans and icicle beaches. planets that resemble the dozens of candies lined up at her shop. cotton candy planets and planets with strawberry and chocolate drizzle all over them. cake pop planets and exploding bonbon planets! pumpkin plansties, where the seeds are crowning a new queen and they dance in an autumn festival — except in that planet, autumn is actually in between spring and summer.
niki has a planet, too. delphi never actually asked him what he wanted in his planet, but she built it for him in her head. it’s a planet made of a twisted, steaming metal core and the skies are red and black. it has fields that stretch out for kilometers on end with yellow-flowered plains and soft, color-changing grasses. there is a scent of summer in the air ( for it is always summer in that planet ), except for the core, where it’s always winter ( despite the eternal smoke ).
it’s better with her eyes closed.
❛ niki! ❜ she says, and suddenly he’s there. she doesn’t need to open her eyes to see him. he’s joined her on this cool night, where a paradoxically warm breeze makes a hoodie sufficient.
she’s missed him. it’s hard to talk to him during the day, but the night is theirs.
❛ met him tonight. officially. albus, i mean. ❜ a sigh. this is… unfortunate. ❛ he’s sweet. really sweet. i think you would like him. he seemed so — well, i think he will go after the time-turner. and then you and me, we can be friends — real friends — in a better world. i won’t be so sad, and i guess you won’t be either, by extension. ❜
tonight, they are wearing matching boots, and the rips in their jeans are in the same places. his shirt is too thin for the cold, because before he appeared here, he was on the eternal summer planet, sitting in his little stone house, wishing for rain. nikolai lights a cigarette to keep himself warm.
“ do you really think so? ” he asks. delphi feels bad, but that’s good, probably, it means her heart is in the right place, and that’s all that matters. her plan wouldn’t work if albus wasn’t sweet; he has to be affected by his father’s wrongdoings to the point of action. “ and what if he doesn’t? ” honestly, it’s a lot to bet on, high dependence on random chance, considering he’s just a little kid, no matter how sweet he is.
“ for real? ” he repeats, shifting to lay on his back, too. nikolai can feel the cool rooftop beneath him and the breeze tickling through his hair, but he’s pretty sure it can’t feel him back. he’s an intangible creature to everyone but delphi. a better world won’t make him any more real. in the other world, delphi will have real friends and a real family. nikolai is a place for delphi to store her sadness, he thinks, though he’s sad about different things than she is most of the time. if delphi isn’t sad, then by extension, he shouldn’t exist at all. nikolai inhales deeply, all the way, until the smoke burns the edges of his lungs, then lets it float up to the sky in a slow procession. “ but what if you don’t need me? ”
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kosmogramm·:
sienna sips her silly little latte, pinky out and nose held high, but then ilya decides to ruin the elegance of the moment with a snide comment. she chokes, slamming her cup down beside her microscope and reaching for a napkin to wipe at her lips. what does it matter what she’s doing in new york? that’s deflecting. what she does in new york does not compare to what ilya is doing with every boy in the DMV area.
❛ i am, ❜ she says. ❛ i’m attending a conference. there are too many people in the world, aren’t there? ❜
she’s aware that those two sentences do not connect, but none of ilya’s damn logic connects, so sienna does not feel the need to expound. she coughs twice more and goes back to taking quick little sips from her latte. thing is, she can only take so many noisy sips in an otherwise uncomfortable silence before something has to give. in a snap decision, she sets her latte back down and clicks her microscope off. that’s nonverbal communication for we need to talk.
❛ there is nothing wrong with trying to make the most of a situation. ❜ she is trying very hard to keep the danger out of her voice, because she does not want to threaten her little brother. no, why even go there? of course this isn’t a threat. it’s just a check-in. a brother and a sister move to DC, and sienna just wants to see how he’s doing. that’s perfectly reasonable. it’s what a responsible sister would do. ❛ but you run into problems when you stop thinking of it as a situation you are trying to make better and start thinking of it as a life — your life — that you are really, truly enjoying. because it’s not your life, is it? it does not belong to you, and, one day, they may send us away again. ❜
back to russia or ukraine or maybe somewhere different — maybe china or chile. they’ll get new names, new languages, and a new story. nikolai and sienna will die.
❛ where we’re going, ❜ she reminds him, ❛ they can’t follow. ❜
‘they' is the boys, of course.
“ uh huh, a conference, ” nikolai doesn’t know if she actually is going to a conference — for all he knows, she actually could be telling the truth this time — but most weekends, she is definitely not going to new york for conferences. he bites back the urge to ask her if her conference will involve singing, dancing, and glitzy costumes.
sienna wants this to be a serious conversation; he begins making toast to indicate that he does not feel the same way. her uptightness is a pain in the ass at the best of times, but he supposes she isn’t to blame for the way she is, anymore than a tree is to blame for not being able to get up and walk. sienna is the thick shell he never had to grow; nikolai has only been able to retain his softness and survive long enough to use it because all of hers is gone.
the glimpses he has allowed sienna don’t provide the full picture; it’s almost a different picture altogether. sienna is a scientist, she speaks in code and she is perceptive by design, and the fact that nikolai has managed to keep an whole man a secret from her for this long makes him giddy and excited ,an amplified version the time he managed to lift an ipod from an airport store when he was thirteen. he’d kept it stowed in his hotel bedframe so that he and his two best friends could listen to music through tinny airplane headphones when there were no adults to see. (both of them are dead, now, but that’s unrelated to the ipod.)
“ you’re right, they can’t, ” he concedes, dropping two slices of bread into the toasted and pressing down the lever. nikolai doesn’t see them leaving any time soon — america will always be a threat, after all, a never-ending trail of state secrets to collect — but he’ll let her have this one, for the most part. even if his life doesn’t belong to him, he’s quite happy with pretending that it is until he can’t anymore. just like the ipod, it doesn’t have to be his for him to enjoy it.
“ but there too many people in the world, aren’t there? ” by which he means, there will be people to fuck wherever we go. “ and there are definitely too many people in new york. ” by which he means, you should try it.
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𝐔𝐍𝐔𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒.
→ PROKOPENKO
spice: rosemary (symbolizes remembrance, loyalty, love, also it smells like the man version of lavender idk)
weather: dreary, misty rain, the kind you think you can survive without an umbrella but ends up soaking you to the bone anyways, cold enough to be uncomfortable without a jacket but not cold enough to complain, you can see thunderstorms on the horizon, but they haven’t reached you yet
colour: this exact purplish gray that i put everywhere
sky: dusk, when the prettiest most photo-worthy part of the sunset has faded and the sky is draining back to blue or purple, with hints of pink and orange from the sun still reflecting off the clouds (like this, but less vibrant, darker, and with streaky clouds instead of fluffy ones)
magical power: emotional manipulation :/
shoe: doc martens & vans
house plant: agave (symbolizes security, slow to grow but strong and sturdy. also u gotta rip it open to get to the soft/sweet part)
social media: twitter 🤡🤡🤡
makeup product: the green and yellow concealer that goes under regular concealer to hide things that are red and purple 🤡
candy: anything you can suck on
fear: being forgotten
ice cube shape: the small round kind with the little hole in the middle
method of long - distance travel: car, preferably with someone else driving
art style: post-impressionism but also surrealism
historical period: the 90s
mythological creature: a banshee, a devil bird, or anything else that forewarns death
piece of stationery: a nice heavy 4b pencil
three emojis: s(imp), pensive clown, is for me?, + whatever this is (these are under the cut)
celestial body: the moon
tagged by: stole from @robobe
tagging: @kosmogramm @celestiel @mythae @prophezeiung @proditeur @wahrsagung
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im being sexy and chaotic in 2022 so i’ll be voice-testing some characters before officially adding them:
raze ( valorant )
jules vaughn ( euphoria )
wylan van eck ( grishaverse )
so here's ur invitation for plotting ig??
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being pretty in the passenger seat is just one of my many fortes
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kosmogramm·:
that’s the thing: everything about ilya gives away his i’m having an identity crisis energy. ‘when isn’t he having an identity crisis?’ is a better question to pose. she stays at her microscope and closes her eyes and takes a deep breath and asks herself why she’s even breaching into that territory. entertaining this conversation is just that — pure entertainment — and nothing of substance ever comes from speaking to ilya, because he doesn’t listen. he’s taken to american youth culture a little too much for sienna’s liking; he’s all about individualism and love and hippie, fatherless, red-white-and-blue worshipping behavior ( never mind that the two of them are, in fact, fatherless ).
❛ i don’t like this, ❜ she says, pushing away from her microscope and picking up her latte. she’s not referring to her latte; it’s fine. she blows on it, and she looks up at ilya, but she only sees nikolai. that’s exactly the problem. ❛ you’re thinking too loudly. tell me why i can hear your identity crisis so expressly from here if you’re just thinking? ❜
she takes a sip. the warmth reminds her of who she is and what she’s doing. it’s important that one of them remembers. ilya is getting too loose — he’s forgetting the integrity of their mission and, most importantly, he’s forgetting why they do what they do.
❛ this country was founded on lies, ❜ she reminds him, ❛ and you would do well to remember that all of its fruit is tainted. ❜
'fruit’ means a lot of things, but mostly it means boys. she doesn’t like what ilya does on the weekends, in the evenings. he needs to come back to her. nikolai brooks is a character on a stage, and right now they’re backstage. so why isn’t he snapping out of it? sienna has no time for method actors.
suddenly, nikolai feels like he’s under the microscope — pressed flush against a glass slide beneath a scorching, blinding light. an adrenaline rush; the fun kind of fear. his scarf joins the coat before he comes around to the sink to wash his hands.
good thing he’s not american, nikolai would say, if he wanted sienna to know there was a specific him in place of the generalized sleeping around that’s become normal. that wouldn’t be truthful, exactly, either, because he’s an embodiment of the american dream itself: wholehearted excess and unabashed corruption, expensive tattoos and an accent that’s twice as ridiculous when he speaks russian, a self-made man in every respect. (there’s nothing more intimate than helping another man inject hormones into his thigh every sunday night. everything about that is probably illegal in russia.)
the problem is that he loves being nikolai, even if nikolai is bland and uninteresting and not even real. nikolai gets to choose the color of his tie and his sweater every morning and take the train to work with all the other commuters; he gets to eat candy from his one of his friend’s store on his lunch break and he only has to exercise when he feels like it. nikolai is nice enough for college girls to take him home to their parents at thanksgiving; he’s unassuming enough for weekend breaks with state officials, where wine and sex and a naive-but-intrigued disposition earn him access to secrets. nikolai has a nice mom and an even nicer step-dad who scraped together all their pennies to send him and his sister to indiana state because he didn’t get into depaul; he has friends from work and from his running club and from his thursday night painting class, and a man he met in the most mundane way. nikolai hasn’t experienced much of the world and he’s certainly never been in any real danger.
it doesn’t even matter whether or not nikolai is technically real. ilya is hardly a person of his own at all, just a human-shaped vessel for a highly specialized skillset. ilya has an end to achieve, but that doesn’t mean nikolai can’t enjoy the means along the way. maybe if sienna got laid once or twice, she’d get it.
“ you’re right, of course, all the fruits are tainted, ” except he isn’t the only one enjoying america’s fruits — what’s more american than broadway? he asks pointedly, “ are you going to new york this weekend? ”
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🇷🇺 ✊ / @zukunftsvision
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you’d like double-spaced formatting but do not have the patience to type it out manually? me neither. that’s why i made this tiny little spacing generator! all you have to do is write or paste your single-spaced reply into the text editor — you can even style to your liking in this editor: bold, italic, small, blockquotes, even added html if you’re fancy! the generator does the rest for you and adds one, two or three extra spaces so you don’t have to type all of that yourself! when you’re done, simply copy the code from the generator and paste it into the html editor of your tumblr post. add your icons and you’re ready to go!
free double-space, triple-space and quadruple-space text generator
— message me if you encounter glitches or have any questions!
— please like or reblog this post if you’ve found it helpful!
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@kosmogramm / sienna: “i don’t have the capacity for your identity crisis this early in the morning”
sienna has her microscope at the kitchen counter again. they’ve talked about this before: biological contaminants don’t belong where we prepare food. repeating the conversation won’t do much good. nikolai puts the sugar-free vanilla latte down in front of her, sipping at his own cappuccino as he shrugs off his coat and leaves it draped over the back of the couch. the hot foam burns his tongue, a contrast to the stinging cold from outside that still lingers on the tip of his nose.
every saturday morning, nikolai picks up coffee for the two of them from a place a few blocks away. the baristas know him by name, and they know exactly what he’s going to order, because he’s ordered the same thing every weekend since they moved into their d.c. shoebox nearly two years ago, except the weekends sienna was in the hospital — a ritual of his own choosing to make up for all the ones they didn’t get to have as children.
“ what gave it away? ” as closed off as he is to the rest of the world, nikolai has always been an open book to sienna. they were built to keep secrets, but keeping them from each other is uncharted territory. it’s not entirely unpleasant, either. this is his own secret, and it’s a nice one. he plans to keep it to himself for as long as he can. “ identity crisis is kind of a strong word. i’m just thinking. ”
and thinking is dangerous enough, much less all the things he’s doing. they’ve been given an elevated purpose, their lives have meaning in a way that most people’s just don’t, but ever since they came to d.c., he’s known something is missing from his even so.
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