Monterey Bay Aquarium
Love Begins
Keni
🩵 avery cochrane 🩵
Mike Driver
JVL
oozey mess
if i look back, i am lost
EXPECTATIONS
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
we're not kids anymore.
Show & Tell
roma★
Kiana Khansmith
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
ojovivo
izzy's playlists!
seen from Argentina
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@falcxne
princessofgotham:
“No, I really don’t. I’m the favorite after all.”
“I didn’t sneak out, how do you even know? You were supposed to be asleep.”
“ Mario told me. An’ ‘e said -- “
“ -- Bertie, you ain’t ever do that; I don’ want’ch in trouble with pa. “
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sexual orientation: angry
princessofgotham:
“Aren’t I?”
“What are you gonna tell him? I didn’t do anything.”
“ You don’t think he’ll listen to me? “
“ What if I tell him how you snuck-out Friday instead? “
princessofgotham:
“It’s Holly, genius.”
“ Haha, very funny. “
“ How’d you like if I told dad instead? “
princessofgotham || Starter Call: x
“ Leave me alone already. Sofia! “
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xprincipcssa || Starter Call: x
“ -- And ‘e said: ‘Bertie, ya’ smoke too much! I bought some of them nicotine patches!’ “
Like for a starter huh huh hUHH?????????
✞ ѻɦ ɭﻉ۷ٱคՇɦคก — — ▶
If Hugo had known the decision to not be bothered was out of his hands he would have chosen to act conversely. As it stood, the psychiatrist had little concern for Alberto’s little outbursts, his petulant attitude. There were many who maintained such bothersome habits – but he was here to fix the mind, and should that alter the habits of speech and behavior too, so be it.
Excuse – now that was probably Hugo’s least favorite word. Little men with their little minds and inability to take responsibility for their own failings, unable to let fragile egos own up to mistakes. His eyes, hidden behind coke-bottle glasses, fell to the hand the boy held with care, dully wondering what could have been the cause of such a thing. But, in a life as tumultuous as the undergrounds, Alberto’s injury bore the potential of being dealt by any source.
❝ — If you are talking about the hand you are favoring, I would call it more an explanation than an excuse. There is a key difference, Alberto. — ❞ Hugo corrected him in his dry, clinical tone, pulling the door closed behind him, cutting off the invading cold air. Gentle whooshing of the white noise machine was the only greeting sound inside the otherwise silent office; though it looked homely the air felt almost like a crypt, something still, something threatening. ❝ — I am quite sorry your father sent you to me if you are ailing that much. But since you are here, we could talk. Would you like some water? — ❞
◀ — — รฝคɭɭѻฝ กѻՇ Շɦﻉ ฝѻɼɭɗ ✞
Rolling his eyes in contempt, Alberto seated himself; as usual, in the chair farthest away from Hugo as he could with just a table between them. It seemed as if he would never move closer - he hadn’t a need, anyway. “ Same fucking difference. “ He grumbled in reply, resting an elbow on the table and placing his head on his hand. The stance of complete and utter boredom before Hugo had even gotten himself seated.
“ No, I don’t want any water. “ The Falcone added with a sigh, right hand being idly observed. It was odd; what was he supposed to do with it? Chop it off maybe, it was becoming quite the hassle these past few days. Surely, if he stuck it into the fire place, it would burn to the bone after a sufficient amount of time. It was a numb limb anyway, no feeling means no pain. “ ‘ey, think I could chop it off? Cauterize it quick, or somethin’? “
“ Too fuckin’ bloody, I hate getting blood on my clothing. “ The boy was just rambling now, sharing a glare with his doctor every now and again. Maybe if he talked the whole time, nothing else would be communicated. Talking for a few hours about himself was fine; how narcissistic he was.
Does something ever happen to you and you’re like, “this is it. This is how I become a super villain”
“ By the power vested in me by the Gotham City Sanitation Department,
I hereby sentence you to death. “
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✘ G O S H get off my back:
falcxne
✞ ѻɦ ɭﻉ۷ٱคՇɦคก — — ▶
Everybody knew of Alberto Falcone, how could they not? He was the son of a man known through Gotham, though his power might have diminished. Legacy continually lived on, legacy would never die.
Let us say, though, that Strange knew him better than most. He knew the nervous shuffling of his eyes, the pursing of his lips as he took a drag on another cigarette. Strange knew how he spoke, and was more than learning how the man thought. After all, they had been meeting for a short while now, things asked of Alberto from his father. Oh, parental concern, how stirring it could be; an unknown to Hugo, but one that seemed to permeate the majority of relationships.
It was time for another scheduled meeting, Strange waited in front of his office, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his typical, clinical lab jacket. Gotham air seemed ever-chilled, despite smog and pollution. Vapors of his breath rose like snakes, twined together in fight unending. He checked his watch; Alberto was late, not just a little late but quite late. Now, that was perplexing – did he get lost along the way, or did he simply not want to come. Well, he would not begrudge the mobster’s son that – there must be something constantly occurring in his life. But he was wrong in assuming such a thing – a moment later a sleek black car pulled up, and out came his patient. Hugo sighed softly, another cloud of frozen air coming from his parted lips.
❝ — I was fearing you wouldn’t come. Would you like to come out of the cold now, or partake in one of your cigarettes first? — ❞
◀ — — รฝคɭɭѻฝ กѻՇ Շɦﻉ ฝѻɼɭɗ ✞
“ Jesus, shut up, ya’ sound like my pa. “
Alberto had decided to shoot the doctor a glare, yet he moved forward and did as he was told; as usual. He hadn’t been too late to his other sessions as of now, but that record had been sliced in two today. He didn’t mind, of course, and decided Strange wouldn’t either. He had a good reason for being late.
He had been slow the past few days, though. Batman crippling his hand was not the best thing that had happened to him this week. What a great way to start off the month of December. His father had forced him into a car and sent him away to Strange anyway, no matter how much he whined his hand was bugging him or if he tried to dig his heels into the ground and stay put. Hugo was just going to make his temper flare up even more than it already had. Oh what happened to your hand this, tell me how your feel about that. Bull-fucking-shit.
“ I’ve got a good excuse, alright? And no, I ain’t gonna stand out here in this shit weather. “ Was his response as he shoved past the doctor and into the office. He was never going to learn to not be the moody rich brat he was, it seemed. Maybe he was just bred to be like that, who knows at this point.
Codename ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Send “Codename” and my muse will tell you which you are
“ It sadly happened in a dream once. More like a nightmare. “
Codename ( pFFFT )
Send “Codename” and my muse will tell you which you are
“ Eagle 2, of course. “
Send me “Codename” and my muse will tell you if you’re:
Been there done that, Currently Doing That, It Happened Once In A Dream, If I Had To Pick A Dude, or Eagle #2
please watch this im dying
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✘ Rat:
falcxne
“ You’re going to call my children disgusting? What do you even know, you’re just a petty rich boy. “
“ Yeah, rat boy; now get your stinkin’ paws off of me - ya’ smell like the rawest sewage in Gotham. “
“ By the power vested in me by the Gotham City Sanitation Department,
I hereby sentence you to death. “
