ind. private & selective. dash only.
smart-mouthed, smug, and loyal mercenary oc. abel mimn. loved by wraith.
verse-orientated & low activity interactions.
about . rules . interest tracker
wraith. he/him. 21+. di.scord available upon request.
cherry valley forever
Not today Justin
Peter Solarz
NASA
we're not kids anymore.
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
Three Goblin Art

tannertan36
wallacepolsom

Janaina Medeiros
hello vonnie

blake kathryn
đŞź
Today's Document
sheepfilms
Jules of Nature
Cosmic Funnies

ellievsbear

oozey mess
seen from Switzerland
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@proviidence
ind. private & selective. dash only.
smart-mouthed, smug, and loyal mercenary oc. abel mimn. loved by wraith.
verse-orientated & low activity interactions.
about . rules . interest tracker
wraith. he/him. 21+. di.scord available upon request.

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blood brothers burn together
HALA ALYAN
âYouâre Not a Girl in a Movieâ, The Twenty-Ninth Year (2019);
original photos and edit
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Rema Rema having cigarettes in Oxford, 1980
peach fuzz punk
He appears suddenly, a deep red violet in the din. voice is sweet as honey and bitter as red wine and you cannot help but listen, the bone deep hum of the earth turning settles into your spine. He asks for a hit, are you the only one who sees? this luminescent being, features just a little too vague to make out. you have never seen Him before, but there's a name is on your lips with the next breath. ringing in the air when you exhale, a laugh in your ear and a hand on your hip, you weep for him
.
âAll memories are bitter. Perhaps I haunted him as he haunted me.â
â N.N. Khrennikov, Tragic Journey to Rochester

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ultraviolextâ:
âSo you keep saying. But isnât it all fun trouble?â
If worse came to worse, she knows she can spook Helen into forgetting any transgression. She feared the Brutal, if only because she was a standing testament to the Administratorâs own failure.
The one thing she never tolerated well, if at all.
âI brought a bag for you,â Shannon gestures to a leather carry-on, full of a weekâs worth of clothes and toiletries. Though she doesnât mention it, Lennon has been well-stocked back at his apartment. She would only want for pets and a warm lap.
The Brutal kisses Abel on the mouth then, grinning. âWe can go now. Or stay in bed a little whileâŚâ
Thereâs a sweet nostalgia to this. Heâs reminded of late nights when he was a teen, slipping out of windows with six packs, running through streets and empty lots. It makes him smile. That part of him is still here after everything, and she brings it out in him, shares in it.Â
It make him feel more alive than he has in a long time.
Abel hums into the kiss and sighs as she pulls away. Allows himself to relax fully now that his mindâs at ease.
âWeâve got a whole week, right? I can stay in bed for awhile longer...â Whenâs the last time he got to sleep in? His hand reaches for his already-loose tie and works the knot of it open. âWanna get out of this damn dress shirt first, though. Surprised it made it through last night between you ân the trip.â
ultraviolextâ:
The flat of her palm presses to Abelâs chest, forcing him back down as the mattress creaks. âI took care of it. Still know the system and got your schedule cleared and taken over by some unfortunate administrative saps. If Helen calls for you, youâre up North, sorting out a communications issue. No contact possible.â
A grin. âIâm not sharing you with anyone. Least of all with work.â
It takes a few moments for his heart beat to catch up with her words. It beats quick under her hand for a minute longer while Abel runs through the logistics of her work, processes it.Â
A week... a full week off-- and to spend it with her? Itâs more than they achieved when he was with P. Bittersweet. He sighs, relaxing his weight back down into the mattress. Watches her grin. âGod youâre trouble...â Affectionately. One of them needs to be able to break the rules. When did that stop being him?Â
@proviidence
Shannon crowds him where he lays, peppering his face with kisses. "I'm cashing in your vacation time."
Knowing full well he only has the customary one day per year.
"For the next week, you're mine."
Her lips are soft and chilled against his skin-- he canât help but smile. His hand reaches to find her thigh and squeeze it affectionately, sheets rustling with the movement.Â
Wait.Â
âThe next week?â Abel props himself up on one elbow, stopped from sitting up fully by how close she is to him. Helen would kill him. Maybe literally, even. âShannon, no, I canât do that. I love you but you know thatâs asking for punishment. At best.â
When he wakes, light filters in through dusty, crooked blinds. Shannon is there beside him and awake. Her clothes have been replaced by black jean shorts and a hand-cropped Beatles tee. "Morning. I got a surprise for you."
Morning-- the sketchy hotel room. Abel sighs as he wakes up and comes back to himself. He considers throwing an arm around her thighs just to stay in bed for a few minutes longer, but instead he rolls to his back, checking the time by the light coming through the blinds. "Surprise? Should I be worried?" There's a groggy-- and still tired-- playfulness to his voice. Whether they'd talk about last night again until some other unbearable thorn snagged them he doesn't know. They won't mention it here, though. He can at least play along, play nice. "What've you got for me, sweetheart?"

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(I managed to stay alive by not / needing anything )
â Alessandra Lynch, from âRoy,â Pretty Tripwire (via lifeinpoetry)
Evgeny Ganeev - Nurgali Dance Company - photo by Anastasia Liubimova