honey when you kill the lights,
and kiss my eyes,
i feel like a person for a moment of my life.
@jujika

shark vs the universe

Acquired Stardust
Sade Olutola

Discoholic 🪩
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
Claire Keane

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
we're not kids anymore.
d e v o n
Jules of Nature
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
wallacepolsom
trying on a metaphor

roma★

@theartofmadeline
hello vonnie
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
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@rottenwork-a
honey when you kill the lights,
and kiss my eyes,
i feel like a person for a moment of my life.
@jujika

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wasteland, baby! by hozier playing from a somewhat distant, empty church or cathedral in the woodlands/forest
edit: i’ve also put it onto youtube
@jujika
All the fear and the fire Of the end of the world Happens each time a boy falls in love with a girl
/
And the day that we watch the death of the sun That the cloud and the cold and those jeans you have on That you gaze unafraid as they saw from the city ruins
/
And the stance of the sea And the absence of green Are the death of all things that I've seen and unseen Are men but the start of all things that are left to do?
cute shades ⭐️✨
me: *sees glitter*
glitter: ✨✨✨
me: :0 !!!!
Scenery in the 2017 Chinese film Legend of the Demon Cat/妖猫传.

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Curse of the Golden Flower (2006)
→ Empress Phoenix’s Wardrobe
I have friends who understand me Their names are spider, beetle, bee They don’t say much but They have always listened to me
@jujika @sabolution
I just turned fourteen and I think this year I'm gonna be mean Don't mess with me I’m a BIG BOY now and I'm very SCARY I punch my walls, stay out at night, and I do karate Don't message me cause I won’t reply, I wanna make you cry — Ain't that how its s’posed to be? Though it isn’t me, Boys will be bugs right?
I am afraid of being seen. / I am afraid of being named.
Joshua Jennifer Espinoza, from “EVERY DAY WAS ORDINARY,” published in Granta (via lifeinpoetry)
Traditional Chinese Hanfu.
gold
@blakshuck

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The gift she had carefully selected was not even presented in a traditionally wrapped box: patiently nestled into the plush comfort of the ex-performer’s bed, waiting to be NOTICED whenever the ship’s party had successfully dwindled to a sleepy, albeit satisfying end - when every last scrumptious crumb of the festive feast Sanji had diligently prepared was devoured off collections of platters, and when the oddly cheerful, haunting rendition of Brook’s Silent Night no longer gently hummed in the background like an old friend, visiting for the winter.
There was NO grand reason why she elected not to leave it under the Christmas Tree, following all the others, although she hoped Anita wasn’t under the false impression that the promise of a gift from her in lieu of Saint Nick’s had carelessly slipped from her mind. The pirate simply desired for the Grizzly Zoan to experience the same emotions she had the first time she encountered the item on display at the floating market.
Of rare awe and naive DELIGHT — as the music box GLOWED and flashed, a revolving stage spinning under the miniature BIG TOP in time to the hearty rhythm of a universally recognized tune. Colourful, hand-painted animals were eternally poised during the best moments of their act, whilst little wooden acrobats swung boldly from left to right in all their charming splendor with indescribable confidence. The buttery smell of popcorn tickled her nose, cackling in their cookers. Without consulting the shop keeper; the tips of her fingers were already reached out to softly stroke the red and white curves of the big tent and Shou could vividly hear the imaginary cheers of the audience sing out to her, deeply absorbed in what she conceptualized was once Anita’s HOME.
Gold eyes longed to see it one day; the circus.
— There was something wondrously special about that ornament, to her. But would the ex-performer have liked it just as much? Or would it have come off as offensive; merely a poor replica of the real thing? Invoke some sensitive memories? She wasn’t SURE, except to walk away without it securely in her possession would’ve seem like a mistake regardless, and now it sat continuously playing on her nakama’s mattress until the time of its discovery.
Not a NOTE, not a mention of the sender found.
…Unlike with the little velvet jewelry box that contained a pair of silver SALMON shaped ear studs, ODDLY signed“Merry Christmas! To a certain naughty Grizzly Bear! From Santa Claus, with love,” placed on her bedside as if she could’ve been so easily fooled by the DIFFERENCE.
🐻 — @snowdrcp
Full and properly drunk, the ex-acrobat couldn’t have been happier. She could eat brilliantly prepared food and drink on any given day, but there was a jolliness in the holiday that made it feel twice as fun. She’d danced, laughed and spent time with people she considered family, and she couldn’t have thought of a better way to end it than to stumble into bed for a long, well-deserved sleep. And so she stumbled, catching the door frame as she took petering steps into the room she shared with the rest of the girls.
She made to shed her jacket and pull on something warmer to wear while sleeping, but something stopped her.
Music — familiar and heart-wrenching — played around her ears. It was quiet at first, but swelled as she drew closer to the bed. She seemed afraid, unsure of what was causing the sound until she found the source sitting on her bed.A hard breath was sucked in. She dropped her jacket, clambered into bed, then sat with her legs folded. The little music box was pulled into her lap. Her arms and legs were the consistency of jelly thanks to all of the booze she had downed that night, but she was delicate. She handled it with the utmost care, something that was rare from her considering how rough she could be. She was even afraid to breath around it. She held her breath now, lifting the tent up to her face.
She saw the lions, the tigers, the horses and elephants. She was reminded of her troupe and immediately put names to some of the animals that she knew had been zoan users back home.
Her eyes followed the acrobats. She recalled being that slender and graceful once. That act had been the one and only thing capable of earning her mother’s pride, but now it didn’t matter. She was bigger, bulkier. A protector. The more she traveled, the less of an entertainer she became. She wasn’t an acrobat now, and she reckoned she never would be again. But she missed it.
She missed home.
She missed the thousands of smells coming from various food stands, she missed the sound of children cheering and laughing. She missed the attention. She didn’t regret traveling with the Straw Hats because they were as near and dear to her as the people in her troupe, but she did worry that there might be no place for her once she returned. She would protect them and get back what as rightfully theirs, but could she consider herself a performer again?
Anita didn’t realize until much later that she had begun to cry. She’d blame the fact that she had been drinking, and that things hurt a hundred times more when she was softened by several glasses of whiskey.
She didn’t hate the gift. She adored it. Loved it. She would keep it for as long as she possibly could, given their adventures didn’t end up with it shattered. But at that very moment, all she could do was cry.
Flopped onto her side, she pulled the music box closer. Little hiccups and pitiful whimpers sounded against her pillow, but they were drowned out by the sound of the cheerful music. She hated crying; it made her face sticky and her stomach feel knotted. After bottling up most of her emotions, they were bound to explode eventually.
“I wanna go home. . .” But she wanted to bring her new home with her. She wanted her friends to come with her, and she wanted so badly to impress them. She wanted them to love the circus as much as she did.
Anita wished she knew who had left the gift for her. She wasn’t the least bit observant, especially while emotional and inebriated. But, whoever had left it, she loved them. The fact that she would fall asleep with the music box in her arms, cheeks still sticky with dried tears, might prove that — maybe.
The earrings would remain unnoticed until the next morning, when she finally woke and scurried away to hide the fact that she had become a blubbering mess the night before. And one she thought she’d successfully hid it, she would slip the salmon-shaped earrings into the little holes punched into her earlobes.
The music box would sit beside her bed. It wouldn’t move, and no one else was allowed to touch it.
🚫 THIS BLOG IS TAKING PART IN THE ANTI-CENSORSHIP PROTEST ON DECEMBER 17th 🚫
The owner of this Blog will be making as much noise at Tumblr Staff about how horrible this ban in on other sites such as Twitter or Facebook.
The owner of this blog will be logging out of all accounts for the entirety of the 17th. Will Not run a queue. Will not even check the dash. Or give the money hungry executives a single page view to squeeze ad revenue out of
The owner of this blog believes in an ACTUAL positive, better, safer Tumblr and well be doing their part to fight for it by logging out on the 17th of December.
“I don’t know where I belong, I don’t know where I went wrong, but I can write a song.”
❝ so show me family, all the blood that I will bleed.❞
@rubberbodied
Nudges her a bit, maybe? ❝—...Hey. If it makes ya feel any better, I'm on the naughty list most of 'th time, too. What's say... you and I STAY a pair of rapscallion pirates and end this year with a bang?❞ She'll get her a present, if Saint Nick won't. Santa Claus is a scam, anyway.
🐻 — @snowdrcp
“I dunno why you’re all gettin’ the impression that I’m upset about it. I was expectin’ this!” She would have been offended ( and highly confused ) if she’d had ended up on the nice list. But, seeing as how it was precious Shou attempting to cheer her up, she couldn’t shrug off the effort.
Gradually, a conniving grin spread lopsidedly on her face. “But I like the way you think. What’cha got in mind, Snowflake?”

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Naughty or Nice?
❝...He ain’t a kitten... he’s a fully-grown ADULT lynx.❞
Was this about her painting Kotatsu’s claws with glitter polish? Fine.
She’ll accept the coal.
At least the sins of all her WRONG DOINGS will keep her WARM this winter.
tagged by stolen from: @bearxclaws
tagging: @jujika / @sabolution / @rubberbodied / @blakshuck / @missvvave / @darkestemperor / @fear-fuel-dragon / @soulpcrcde / @the-oceans-sun / @princelylight
@sabolution
Body aches, I'm bound in chains Well there's a FIRE in my veins and — Can you hear the drumming? There's a revolution coming. Like every KING who lost a CROWN, And all those years are history now Can you hear the drumming? There's a REVOLUTION coming.