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captain-price-unofficially · 1 day

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Ukrainian Territorial Defense Force members reenact the famous “Reply of the Zaporozhian Cossacks” painting by Illya Repin.

#modern #russo-ukrainian war

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511am · 1 day

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#midcentury #modern #architecture

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faetima · 1 day

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I NEED A PART TWO TO SAFETY SCISSORS STATTTT. WHAT ABOUT SCARAS POV??? IS HE DENSE??? I need the reader to DIE and scara finds out and hes zcrushed and RAGH ANGST RAGHHHGHGGRR

𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐬 . . .

. . he just keeps losing everything again and again and again.

// tws ; slight cursing,, ; gn reader ; modern & high school au, hanahaki au

a/n: THANK YOU SM FOR HTIS IDEA OMG ILY

link to safety scissors !!

in his dreams, everyone else was irrelevant.

it was only him and you, you and him.

but now, with you gone, he could only wish his dreams were reality.

if only he wasn’t so fucking dense, if only he saw the way your eyes followed him whenever he was in class or in the halls or in the park or anywhere.

he wished he saw the adoration in your eyes before they were dull, showing the everlasting sign of death.

he wished he saw how your eyes lit up whenever he entered the room before they were blurred and bleary with the cloud of death.

he wished he saw how your eyes followed him like contrails before they were staring blankly at the ceiling of your house.

why did he have to be like this?

if he had just told you his feelings maybe you wouldn’t be dead.

maybe he wouldn’t have lost you.

but maybe life was a losing game for him. he didn’t even have the chance to win—he just lost everything again and again and again until there was nothing left for him.

he lost his mom, his childhood friends, everything.

even you.

—

he remembered that in middle school he had been assigned a project with you.

the moment he heard your name with his, he felt the unusual sensation of butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

at the moment, he had just wished you would disappear so that these fucking feelings would go away.

he regretted thinking that so, so much.

karma just kept eating him up and spitting him back out.

—

you and him had both been working on the project, and one thing had led to another and he had suddenly wound up with your left earbud in his ear.

scaramouche wanted you to hate him, wanted you gone.

so he scrunched up his nose in disgust, trying to act indifferent to you and your feelings.

“you listen to this fucking stuff?” he spat, hoping you couldn’t see through his guise.

you had just stayed silent, switching the song.

scaramouche could almost hear the silent cracking of your heart.

—

acting indifferent wouldn’t help anything.

scaramouche should’ve known from all the mistakes he’d done in the past that indifference would go against him, it would never help him.

but he had still acted uncaring anyways.

you were dead now, and all because he decided to act apathetic in order to hide his own feelings for you.

—

he had a memory that, once, in class, you were both seated together. in what seemed to be a haze of nervousness, your leg bounced up and down as you took shaky breaths, anxious and flustered by the fact he was sitting next to you.

scaramouche didn’t know what to do.

maybe if he acted bitter and shit you would stop liking him and these stupid fucking feelings would go away, right? it had always worked in the past, so it wouldn’t fail him now.

but it did. it faltered and failed him and now he regretted it all.

“can you stop that?” his sharp voice cut through the deafening silence of the classroom like a butter knife. you had glanced up, your eyes meeting his. scaramouche’s hands were clenched into fists, cold and clammy from anxiety.

wait, why the fuck was he nervous?

he took a shaky breath in, hoping this angry guise was working. he tried to scowl at you, watching as your eyes filled with the lightest layer of tears, making your eyes look like glass.

“sorry,” he silently watched as you apologized, immediately dropping your gaze down to the desk. scaramouche felt a soft pang of regret, but decided to ignore it.

“whatever,” he spat out, rolling his eyes. his neck and face were burning and his ears had the lightest tint of pink to them. scaramouche prayed that you didn’t notice how flustered he got.

—

maybe if he had confessed, you wouldn’t be gone now.

but no, he just had to keep losing everything again and again and again and again.

he broke into a coughing fit, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth.

and, as scaramouche lowered his hand, a singular purple petal fluttered onto his palm.

#✦ -- scaramouche #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x reader #scara x reader #scaramouche #light angst #angst #how to write angst #modern au #hanahaki #hanahaki au #hanahaki disease #high school #shy reader #scaramouche x shy reader #part 2 #modern #high school au #gn reader

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sticker-pop · 2 days

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2010 50th Anniversary Cinnamoroll patches, front and back. Available for purchase here!

#japan #modern #sanrio #cinnamoroll #🌟

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soudasouda · 2 days

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Saturday with Frank via jordanhruska Follow Souda on Tumblr Source: https://research-lighting.tumblr.com/post/747584367589801984/saturday-with-frank-via-jordanhruska-follow

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nevzatboyraz44 · 8 hours

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Kızın biri 😍 ve Anıtkabir 😲🤔🤔😲

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research-lighting · 2 days

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Modern Attic Bedroom Design Follow Research.Lighting on Tumblr Source: https://soudasouda.tumblr.com/post/747601618463260672/modern-attic-bedroom-design-follow-souda-on-tumblr

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ltwilliammowett · 5 months

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The Norwegian research vessel Lance is stuck in the Arctic ice, 2015

#ship #research vessel #norway #lance #arctic #modern #terror vibes

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ohmy-guy · 8 months

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ohmy-guy

#aesthetic #aesthetic blog #original #candles #fall #autumn #autumn aesthetic #forest #forest aesthetic #candle aesthetic #plant #plants #plant aesthetic #modern #modern aesthetic #orange #red #orange aesthetic

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vintagehomecollection · 13 days

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Rooms by Design, 1989

#vintage #vintage interior #1980s #80s #interior design #home decor #living room #dining room #staircase #condo #oriental rug #mies van der rohe #cantilever chair #modern #style #home #architecture

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waambles · 1 year

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No more trans doom scrolling! Today we are embracing trans hedonism!

T4t love, polyamory, queer platonic relationships, and friendships are so beautiful! Embrace pleasure, embrace rest, embrace yourself and all those you love! Eat that cake, kiss that person, take that nap, enjoy your life! Today I call for an era of radical trans joy!

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captain-price-unofficially · 3 days

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Gaza now.

#modern #combat footage #2023 israel-gaza conflict #war crimes #arab-israeli conflict

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detailedart · 7 months

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Sunset at sea (details). Painter: Jeanne Rosier Smith.

#sea #art history #painting #details #art detail #ocean #waves #aesthetic #jeanne rosier smith #modern #tale #paintings #art #nature #landscapes

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faetima · 3 days

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𝐰𝐡𝐲 . .

. . here you were, dove white bedsheets pooled around you, as fat, crystalline tears rolled down your face, an ugly reminder of what you had become.

or, a small fanfic based on boynextdoor’s album: why..

// tws ; none!! :3 ; gn reader ; modern au

a/n: stan boynextdoor guys

𝟭. 𝗖𝗥𝗬𝗜𝗡𝗚

between umbrellas on a rainy strеet

your words broke thrоugh even thе ѕound of rаin, goodbye

i јust shut mу mоuth

i pretend not to hear agaіn

sobs wracked your body.

it’s okay. you’re okay , you thought to yourself, rocking your body back and forth, face buried in your knees.

the lies kept increasing.

lies towards yourself, towards him, towards anyone and everything.

you were fine , you told yourself.

as if.

here you were, dove white bedsheets pooled around you, as fat, crystalline tears rolled down your face, an ugly reminder of what you had become.

of what you had become ever since he left you.

a crying mess.

even the way he had broken up with you reflected the situation — rain pouring down, thumping over your roof as he stood there, umbrella in hand. his jet-black bangs were plastered to his face, wet, as if he had left without an umbrella originally.

your eyes had a joyful gleam as you beamed at him, crinkles at the corners of your eyes a mirror of your happiness.

until he shattered it, alongside your heart, of course.

it was like he had been cradling your fragile, glass heart, taking care of it, protecting it, until he decided to throw it full-force at the ground.

“i have to tell you something,” he had said, cold eyes analyzing you, examining your very being.

thinking nothing of it, you had asked what. he dropped your glass heart as he spoke his next words.

“i want to break up.”

and, so, you were here, crying like a baby.

a fucking baby.

you had thrown away the jacket you had worn when you had asked him out, trying to look your very best.

you wanted to look like an adult, mature and collected, coming to terms with any ups and downs life had to offer.

but, as it turned out, you were still a kid inside. ever so sensitive — fragile and delicate, able to break apart at any moment.

this was so, so much more cruel than any mean words he could speak to you. saying he loved you, whispering sweet nothings, and then dropping the bomb on you? saying he never loved you?

saying everything was meaningless to him?

you had gone to a cafe a few days prior, and what you saw made your heart crack all over again.

he was there, sitting alongside his friends.

worst thing?

he was smiling.

he was fucking smiling.

after what he did to you, he had the audacity to laugh, to smile?

it hurt so, so much, watching him smile, watching him laugh, knowing it would never be you making him do so ever again.

it made you hurt.

it made you sick.

and, so, you laid on your bed, crying like a baby.

crying like a baby.

i’m crying for you, baby.

𝟮. 𝗕𝗨𝗧 𝗦𝗢𝗠𝗘𝗧𝗜𝗠𝗘𝗦

but you —

heard your mascara's running from crying everyday

kicking yourself now

i never felt better

he had said he didn’t like you swearing.

that you were too delicate, too innocent to.

even when you were angry, you couldn’t fucking swear, wanting to keep the love of your life, the bane of your existence, happy.

you had widened your shoulders when he needed to lean on them.

it only caused trouble for you now when you went upon the crowded metro, bodies pressed up against you.

you wanted to swear.

swear at him.

yourself.

everyone.

every-fucking-thing.

you swore dan heng wouldn’t ever regret it.

you were the fool.

the goddamn fool.

it would’ve been better if he had just said he didn’t love you.

why did he lead you on, saying he loved you if he was just going to break your heart, leaving it hollow?

now you wanted to rip up all the polaroids of him you had kept.

his appearance in the photos was the same — soft, ethereal.

beautiful.

the appearance of someone you had once loved.

of someone you still loved.

it was nothing like the cold and hard exterior he had worn when he broke up with you.

sometimes you just wanted him to get lost, wishing him heartbreak and bad wishes, wishing for him to suffer as you did.

but sometimes, you missed him.

—

you were used and useless now.

now, you wanted to change all your mannerisms — the way you did your makeup, the way you laughed, even the way you walked.

it all reminded you of dan heng.

and that memory stemmed on and on, and lead to another night of you crying in your room, mascara tainting your face, smudging it an inky black.

—

sure, he wasn’t the mean one.

your friends said that he was being reasonable, that he was so mature about the situation, not even putting any blame on you! you were crying for no reason at all, he could’ve ended things on a much, much worse note.

yeah, sure.

yes, you were the mean one! you were the one mad at him, sad over him, because of absolutely nothing! it wasn’t like he was the one who broke up with you!

ugh.

give me a break.

—

late at night, you were curled up in your bed, the excruciatingly bright screen of your phone illuminating your tired eyes and dried up tears.

your finger hovered over the button to delete his number.

you couldn’t even do a task as simple as that.

you were such a fool. you still loved him, even though he had already broken up with you?

pathetic.

—

yeah, this was better.

swearing to get it all out, to get all the red, hot anger off your chest, off yourself.

previously pinpointed on yourself, now you found a new target to direct it all to, to shift the blame to.

dan fucking heng.

previously, you had been sobbing in your room after he had broken up with you, sobs wracking your body as if you were a mere petal in a storm, drifting all alone.

the sorrow had eventually melted, leaving an omnipresent hatred in its wake.

but, if you despised him so much, why did you immediately soften up upon looking at photos you took of him?

he still looked so sweet in the photos, jet black bangs dusting his face, the tiniest smile on his face as he held up a peace sign.

maybe you should just rip up all the photos.

yeah.

—

life wasn’t too bad as of late.

you had been hanging out with new friends, and that took your mind off everything.

maybe you had finally moved on?

yet, you still felt a tinge of hatred towards dan heng, even though he hadn’t done anything wrong as you had come to realize.

you had heard he’d been kicking himself over the break up, crying everyday. you should’ve felt bad.

yet you felt the smallest twinge of happiness upon hearing this.

you could’ve — would’ve — died for him, yet it took him til now to realize what he had missed.

to realize what he had done?

why’d it take him til now? why was he so selfish?

he could’ve just not loved you from the beginning.

huh, maybe you hadn’t moved on yet.

sometimes, you still missed him.

𝟯. 𝗔𝗕𝗖𝗗𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘

a-b-c-d-e-f-g, right?

it’s still awkwаrd, will i gеt used to it?

give me back my a-b-с-d-l-o-v-e,

or draw a nеw lоve

an easy word you could memorize — love.

soft and delicate love, strong as titanium, yet fragile as glass.

but, well, you didn’t know love anymore.

the love you had known had changed.

it had broken into a million tiny bits, leaving behind shards of shattered glass, cutting you and making you bleed scarlet the moment you tried to pick up the broken pieces.

now you practically had to learn the meaning of love all over again.

everything had changed, now it was all inverted. bright, almost blindingly so, yellow shades of happiness and warmth had become depressing, melancholic blues.

dainty pink had becoming a forever burning inferno of red.

dan heng had been the moons and stars, your whole universe.

and, just like that, he had disappeared.

stormy black clouds had covered the glittering skies, leaving only darkness in their wake.

he had told you he had loved you.

you wanted that same love back.

or, perhaps, now you could draw a new love.

—

it was so, so awkward now.

you could barley get any words out around him.

he, who was spring and summer.

he, who left, leaving a cold and barren winter with you.

now who would alight your freezing heart ablaze?

—

it was still so, so awkward.

would you ever get used to it?

well, perhaps you would, you supposed.

if you could draw a brand new love for yourself, rewrite the meaning of it from scratch, you could get used to this too, no?

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dduane · 2 years

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“Fish Pond mosaic by Gary Drostle. It's made of vitreous ceramic tesserae using a ‘reverse technique’ and measures 2 meters in diameter. Made for a small public garden in Croydon, Surrey, UK, it won several art awards.“ (via Archaeohistories at Twitter)

#mosaic #fish #modern

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soudasouda · 1 day

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Paper sculpture by Irving Harper Follow Souda on Tumblr

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