When the muse finally comes back 🥹
Mike Driver
Monterey Bay Aquarium
taylor price
Peter Solarz


if i look back, i am lost

Kaledo Art

oozey mess

pixel skylines
d e v o n

Discoholic 🪩
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
sheepfilms

Love Begins
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸

2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
RMH
Show & Tell
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seen from Switzerland
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seen from Türkiye

seen from Canada

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@ohwise1ne
When the muse finally comes back 🥹

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Every month is the same. For the first two weeks, I am almost a normal person again. I go about my day the way I always have. I keep up with the laundry and make time for dinner. I stay focused and productive at work. I even think about writing. When I place my hand over my stomach (leftover instinct), I don't think about how round it should be (third trimester next month), or the still-empty room at the end of the hall. I come to believe—truly believe—that things will be different this time. I won't start testing so early, so often. It will happen when it happens. When you least expect it, or so everyone keeps telling us—and so I refuse to expect anything at all. My expectations are in fact so low during these first two weeks I become convinced I am almost okay, almost satisfied with this life and its empty spaces. With the steady, pleasant quiet. With peace.
Then mid-month arrives in two bold lines, and the clock begins its upward count anew. Two days in, I'm already having dreams of tiny feet, kicking in my belly. Four days, and I'm revisiting the half-finished registry from the summer. Five days, and I'm recalculating dates so that I can start testing earlier, earlier, the earliest the data will allow. Eight days, and I'm already up to three times daily, huddled in my bathroom, shining a flashlight on each glistening strip, squinting for a smudge, a shadow, the smallest sign of life. Anything. Ten days. The familiar dread is starting to return. It was eleven days last time, when I first glimpsed that second line—but we all know how that turned out. Does that mean it was too late then? Is it too late now? How many more months of this before it becomes too late for us completely?
Fourteen days. One line. No shadow, no smudge. I don't feel anything when I'm crying anymore. It's purely physiological: the inconvenient throb of a wound that refuses to heal. I place my hand over my cramping stomach, put the tests back under the bathroom sink. Next month will be different, I promise myself. I'll start testing later, and less frequently. Keep my expectations low. It will happen when it happens. It will happen. It will.
For another month, at least, the room at the end of the hall will stay empty.
Siren/Merman AU
Omegaverse setting
And yet, at the same time, it seems incredibly possible now, tantalisingly possible, that he might once again hear her voice murmuring his name in a low pleasurable satisfied tone while he makes love to her. And for this, he thinks, whatever: despair, heartbreak, even losing his mind and going insane later on, anything. Literally, anything, any price. Yeah, he says. I think it’s a good idea. I do.
— Sally Rooney, Intermezzo
Based on this
Dj Kylo my beloved

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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“ Into the lost cave “
( I finally did it, I hope you like it !^^ )
CHILLS!!!!!!!!!!
watery winter sunrise
reylo jumping onto the mob wife trend.
i wasn't sure if the halo fits w/ his vibe but i got too attached to it </3
(no halo below the cut btw)
“Should I fall out of love, my fire in the light? To chase a feather in the wind, Within the glow that weaves a cloak of delight, There moves a thread that has no end”
Robert Plant / John Paul Jones

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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To the people who are still creating Reylo content in 2024: you are amazing and gorgeous and hot and sexy
Even Bubbles Can’t Help Terrible Life Choices
“Still, he would lie down and die for her at any minute, which is the only thing he knows about himself that makes him feel like a worthwhile person.”
— Sally Rooney, Normal People
scene studyyy

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Carlos Schwabe (Swiss,1866-1926)
“Spleen and Ideal”. Illustration for Baudelaire’s “Les Fleurs du Mal”, 1900
Oil on canvas
— Haruki Murakami, 1Q84
[text ID: We cannot simply sit and stare at our wounds forever. We must stand up and move on to the next action.]