â - whichever you decide, muse Atticus
an emergency text.
Dude, do you do speed delivery? I kinda got bags of teeth that need delivering, donât ask


@theartofmadeline
Xuebing Du

Jar Jar Binks Fan Club
we're not kids anymore.
YOU ARE THE REASON
Misplaced Lens Cap

romaâ

bliss lane
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

titsay
Cosmic Funnies
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
almost home
Fai_Ryy

I'd rather be in outer space đž
đȘŒ
Cosimo Galluzzi

seen from United States

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@tristandeering
â - whichever you decide, muse Atticus
an emergency text.
Dude, do you do speed delivery? I kinda got bags of teeth that need delivering, donât ask

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â
drunken/drugged text.
Hehe and then what
Text meme
Send me a symbol for a:
â - Drunk/drugged text
†- A heartfelt text
â - An emergency text
⟠- A bedtime text
â - A text while travelling
⎠- An angry text
talk to my muse, tell them a story or give them unwanted advice and they can only reply with gif/icon
crimscnheart:
Autumn frequented the library to get books on her favorite artists, or to gain inspiration from whatever she read. she used to come visit nathan but after their spat at navy pier, she hadnât talked to him since. so she roamed the aisles looking for something to catch her eye when she saw someone vaguely familiar. Autumn recognized the face from a couple weeks ago with their exchange at honeyâs bakery. She walked closer and she noticed the self help book in his hands she looked pleasantly surprised. âitâs gotta actually work if itâs got the little sticker on the front. seems like someone is working on not making people cry.â she teased.
âYeah, itâs not for me or anything. I donât need it,â Tristan replied, though he let himself wear a friendlier smile this time, as if rolling with her teasing. He pored over the catalogue of his mind, attempting to recall what his sob story was the last time. âItâs for my cousin. Sheâs not over my auntâs death yet.â He continued, âI have the feeling you have a low opinion of me. Iâm actually a very nice person, Miss.â

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location: anywhere status: open
Guinevere had been retracing her steps all morning. The instant that sheâd opened her bag and realized that her sketchbook wasnât among the rest of her belongings, it became of paramount importance that she find it. Most of her other sketchbooks (and yearbooks and clothes and textbooks) had been lost in the manor. She was not about to lose anything else thanks to her own absent-mindedness. âHey. Have you seen my sketchbook around here? Itâs like this big and black with a lot of stickers on it. Thereâs a huge donut on the front with sprinkles that says Winnie in cursive but it almost looks like it says wunnelâŠâ She was starting to get desperate. There were only about two more places left on her list to check. If she didnât find it soon, she may never seen the little book again. âPlease, please, please, please tell me youâve seen it!â
Tristan took a moment to take in the young womanâs appearance. He recognized her from the descriptions heâd heard. This was a Faust. But she didnât seem to recognize him, so he fixed a cordial smile to his face. Not a massive one, though; the goal was to get her to trust him, not give off creepy âI have candy in the vanâ energy. âI actually have.â He opened his bag and produced the sketchbook. See, this was why he liked to be prepared. âSorry I took it; I was looking for its owner.â
gvnpcwder:
  Heâs returning a book thatâs long overdue and has been sat on his coffee table for weeks, racking up the late charges by the day â or he would be if he could see any sign of the desk clerk between the aisles of book cases. Nothing, nadda, zilch. ââ Fuck this, ââ He mutters to himself with indignation, slapping the book down on top of the counter and ripping a sticky note from one of the pads besides the library computer and scribbles a note for the desk clerk when they eventually return from their break or where ever the hell theyâve wandered off to.
Heâs half way across the library, plucking his headphones from his pocket and beginning to unravel them when he passes somebody examining one of the books in front of a shelf like it holds all the answers to the universe inside of it. His steps slow as he reaches the person, recognition dawning across his features when he recognises the face that the voice belongs to.
ââ I donât think the answer to true happiness and peace can be found in a book inside a library in Chicago, but good luck trying to find it. ââ
âWell, yeah. No shit.â Itâs nice, Tristan thinks, that the population of Chicago has fewer morons than he wouldâve guessed. On the other hand, itâs interesting that people seem to think he is. Maybe itâs a good thing. He wants to appear innocent, after all, and though itâs not gonna fool Rourke, maybe it would fool other people. He says, âI have no idea what true happiness and peace would even constitute. Iâm hardly devoting my life to such concepts, but I guess itâs fascinating once you try to figure out what the hell those are even supposed to mean. Itâs like watching Christian movies for me. Iâd just like to understand in some way what people find so cool about a magical zombie from the sky.â
Taron Egerton in Billionaire Boys Club (2018)
*  TRISTAN  ·
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location: chicago library. open to anyone.
tristan walks slowly, passing by a shelf. it's not a careful act, not a sluggish act; it's simply slow, deliberate. he pulls a slim volume with a title that promises ways to improve your life and happiness in less than a month(!).
perhaps his slowness is due to fascination. this tristan, who wallowed in the depth of his emotions, is unfamiliar. conceding to this part of himself felt nothing short of making a new acquaintance. old tristan would simply scoff at such tripe. new tristan actually wonders if he needs the advice. heâs been accused of being a monster before -- he embraced it. turns out being human is a lot harder than being a monster, and he is, unfortunately, just a human being after all.
relief washes over him when he realizes that, at the very least, he hasnât lost his skepticism. despite his inner turmoil, heâs not so desperate as to fool himself into thinking thereâs a magic fix for this lurid sadness gnawing at him. still, he asks someone near him, âdo you think thisâd actually work? âachieving true happiness and peace in three weeksâ?â
Open to Anyone | @crimsonstartersâ
Jamie didnât know the meaning of the word shy. Even as a kid she had struggled to understand the fact that everyone had different boundaries, and sheâd gotten no better at it than age. It could have had something to do with her dancing in lingerie four nights a week at Eden, or it could have been her rather optimistic look on the bonds that people made in life, either way her filter and reasoning of personal space was none existent. Making her way through the city streets here blue eyes were always on the look of for a good photo, her camera strapped to her neck ready. She had been mid call when her eye had been caught this time, the blonde wasting no time in delivering promises to call back as she reached for her camera. âHey you, stay exactly like that, just for a moment, I swear you canât move this shot is too good to miss.âÂ
Tristan was trying to tuck away his trauma over St. Paddyâs Day. Well, this kind of thing was always a good distraction. He stayed in place, as the stranger instructed, and even flashed her a smile that he hoped was charming. âAm I allowed to smile, or would you like a fake candid?â He huffed. âSorry, I just couldnât help it.â What the hell did that mean? He supposed he was trying to sound understatedly flirtatious, but said trauma kind of left him in need of practice. Fucking Aysel. After a lifetime of callously toying with girlsâ hearts, his punishment -- of all possible punishments -- arrived in the form of a timid, naive woman who would later bolt out of his life. He hoped the blonde found him charming enough to overlook his pathetic state, so he could bury the memory of Aysel Yilmaz deep.
EVER WONDER WHAT MY MUSE SAYS ABOUT YOURS?
Send me a symbol.
đ for what my muse would write about yours in their diary. đ· for what my muse would say to the paparazzi about yours. đ for what my muse would say to the person trying to woo your muse. đȘ for the eulogy my muse would give for yours. đ for a letter my muse would write to yours. đ« for a letter my muse would write about yours to a third party. đš for a text my muse would send to yours. đŹ for a text my muse would send to yours to a third party. đ for what my muse would say upon hearing about your museâs death. đȘ for what my muse would say to your museâs child about them. đ for what my muse would say upon hearing yours has been arrested. đ for the toast my muse would give at your museâs wedding.
Get to know my character through an ask!
domâmurphyâ:
sphinxmemesmusingsâ:
đ° - What is their favorite type of dessert or sweet? đą - What type of animal would they keep for a pet? đ - They are crossing the ocean. What are the circumstances and how did they get there? đ - If money were no object, where would they live and what would they do with their life? (Ex: entrepreneur, playboy, philanthropist, etc) đ - Do they celebrate their birthday? đ - Are they well-educated? đŹ - A mysterious letter has just been found in their mailbox.  How does your character react?  Who would it be from? â - Is your character punctual or procrastinator? đ° - Your character just found a fat sack of gold on a bench. What do they do with it? đ - Is your character trendy or do they just not give a damn? đ - Your character is at the carnival.  What kinds of rides or games do they check out to entertain themselves? đź - Your character is having their future told by someone pretty shady. Do they call the fortune teller out or just roll with it? đ - What is your characterâs favorite holiday? đ¶ - What would your character say about your personal taste in music? đ - Does your character want marriage or a lifelong commitment? â - Hey baby, whatâs your sign? What would your characterâs zodiac sign be and what qualities do they carry to make them fall under that sign? đŒ - Does your character have or want kids? â - What has your character almost done that made someone talk them out of or convince them not to do it? âż - Is your character in some way handicapped? (This includes physical, emotional, and mental.) đ - Is your character on medication?  If so, why? đđ - Is your character an early bird or night owl? What makes them that way? đ - Does your character read? đ - If your character keeps a journal, what is the most secret thought they keep in it? đ° - An obituary for your character was found in the local paper this morning. What did it say? đą - What frustrates your character more than anything? â - Your character just made a trespass against someone else, how would they go about righting it given the chance?  Or would they at all? đŽ - What is the absolute worst meal your character has ever eaten? Were they verbal about it or did they just not say anything? đ - Carnivore/Pescatarian/Vegetarian/Vegan/Other? What kind of diet does your character have? đ - Your character was just kissed by someone they canât stand. Why and how did it happen? đ - What was your characterâs last good deed? đ - Someone just tripped and fell in front of your character.  Do they laugh or help the person up? đš - Your character just broke wind in public. Do they try to hide it or own up to it? đ - Your characterâs lust object just passed right by them. How awkward do they get as they try to make conversation? đ - âUgh!  Not him/her/them/it again.â How does your character react to annoying people? đ - Your character is moved to tears. Whatâs a kindness that another showed to them? đ - What has ever made your character laugh so hard that they almost passed out? đ - Whatâs your characterâs favorite cuss word? đ - Is your character having a dirty thought right now? đș - Cheers! What is your characterâs favorite alcoholic beverage?  What was the last thing they got smashed off of? đ« - Your character is suffering memory loss after being knocked unconscious.  What happens afterwards and how did it happen? đĄ - What is the best idea your character ever had? đ - Does your character wear any type of jewelry? âȘ - Is your character religious or spiritual in anyway? đ± - Your character and a talking raccoon walk into a bar⊠đŒ - An interrogation tape emerges regarding a recent interview with your character.  What are they being questioned for? đ - Is your character into personal fitness?  If so, whatâs their exercise routine? đș - What would your characterâs favorite TV show be?  Whatâs their favorite genre?
đ - Does your character carry a good luck charm? Do they believe in luck?
specify muse please
@gangeunyoung
rosesjustdie:
Rosie didnât even attempt to hide in the disbelieving snort at his words. I must have cared a bit for you then. Sure, that was what he could go with and sound believable⊠said no one ever. As much as she wanted to believe that he had cared for her Rosie knew that was just her trying to find the best in him. Like she did with most people. But most people hadnât gone out of their way to hurt her the way that he had. âOh Iâm sure. I bet she just loved whatever you did taking place in a pizzeria, so special right there.â
Nothing compared to dumping a girl on her birthday though, no that would always hurt her just a little bit. Rosie rolled her eyes at his words, âYou know that would work a hell of a lot better for you if youâd chosen literally any other name, right?â
Tristan chuckled. If only she knew the kinds of evil he did, even worse than dumping her on her birthday, though sheâd probably find it hard to believe anything could surpass it. Luck of the civilian, not privy to the extent of crimes happening within the underground. With a look of mock-defeat, he said, âWow, yeah, that was embarrassing for me. See, I told you I cared about you more than you realize. I just canât truly get you out of my mind, Rosario.âÂ

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open event starter location: navy pier
Rosa wasnât the kind of person to celebrate St. Patrickâs Day, mostly because she hated the color green and she wasnât Irish. However, any holiday that involves drinking was a personal favorite of hers. While working in a bar, not to mention owning one, meant that such a holiday like this was prime money time but being the boss had its perks which is why she has her most veteran and trusted employees to keep the place running. Rosa smiled as she walked down the street to the pier, the green wasnât her favorite but she partook in the festivities wearing a little green and drinking some green shots of something, âGod, I hope that green is food coloring.â She took some cheap-looking St. Pattyâs themed bubbles that probably belonged to someone but Rosa was on the side of not caring, âI could get used to this holiday.â
Tristan said, âIt is food coloring. Iâve made some of these before. St. Patrickâs Day is always fun for me âcause I turn up the accent and people believe me when I say that Iâm Irish.â He was, in fact, of English and Welsh background. âItâs amazing. I tell them that every Irish personâs birthday is on St. Paddyâs, âkind of like how they add one year to everybodyâs age every 1st of January in Korea,â and a lot of them will scramble to buy me a gift. I love America.â
richieoshea:
Richie eyes Tristan suspiciously, expecting a little more than a âwell played.â Subconsciously, heâs already had his hands protecting the goods just in case the man wanted to do a low blow and go for future Richie juniors. Itâs a little unnerving, but he guesses that the festival has people reacting differently now.
Faux gasps paired with a hand to his chest, Richie wipes away a fake stray tear, really putting on the act. âBabe, how could you say that? What about the wedding? What about our kids? How could you say youâre out of my league when we both know damn well youâre out of mine.â The words of his friend has the smile forming on his face even before heâs told otherwise. Richie quickly shakes his head, hands up in defense. âHey, now, Iâm not the one who just declared his undying love for little olâ me in front of your buddies here,â he nods towards the group. âBut if you say weâre family, do I get to call you daddy?â
âNo, Richie, you do not. Be serious.â Tristanâs smile thinned into something more passive-aggressive. âYou are really straining my patience. This is why I hate being nice to you.â He took a deep breath, proceeding with his questions. âRight. While Iâm at it, have you checked on the others? Are they fine? Iâd ask if you are, but the fact that youâre still able to be a little shit is all I need to know they didnât do enough damage to you.â