heavenmoved:
“a… a glamour? listen, i don’t know what you’re on about, but this i’m not pulling any sort of joke. what’s going on here?”
❝ I don’t . . . I don’t know. ❞ It isn’t often that Sebastian finds himself at a loss for words, but he spends his silence carefully: a second analytical gaze is cast over the expanse of the other’s form, and his hand curls into a tight FIST --- nails driving into the palm of his hand to rule out the possibility of a hallucination. He’s still not entirely convinced that this isn’t a dream, but stranger things have been known to happen, and he’s never been one to shy away from such anomalies. ❝ Who ARE you ?? ❞
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davymacknyc Heading out to the parade
#NYC #NewYork #Manhattan #Sony #a7rii #ChristyAltomare #Parade
#Anastasia #Broadway #Costume#DavyMackNYC #TonyAward #Backstage #Anastasiamusical #Theater #Vintage #Actor
#JourneyToThePast #Russia #Retro #Photographer #Paris #France #Thankksgiving
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heavenmoved:
@soliloquys started following you
“what kind of fresh hell is this?”
❝ —- If you’re wearing a GLAMOUR, I must say that I can’t exactly find any HUMOUR in the so - called joke. ❞
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about 50% done with this new theme, i think i’ll get the rest done over the next few days!
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url change due to unintentional similarities to another blog. i’d appreciate it if people could stop sending me rude asks about it, as i’ve already had a discussion with the other account owner.
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The parade travelled on
With the sun in my eyes you were gone
But I knew even then
In a crowd of thousands
I’d find you again
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There's a ringing in his ears & a knotted TWIST in his stomach that have refused to subside since he'd first encountered the man who so cleverly called himself Andrew Blackthorn, since he'd been tied up and tortured according to Jonathan Morgenstern's whims, but . . . he's up and about, and he supposes that it has to count for something. He's not exactly STUCK in the Institute ( not officially, at least ), but despite the near - constant looks of PITY that he's bestowed with each time he congregates with the rest of the Institute's inhabitants for the morning's briefing, he is never quite distracted enough to go without noticing that, while he hasn't been tasked with scutwork as of yet ( despite being a relative newcomer ), he isn't actually being tasked with ANYTHING at all.
It's getting to the second week that he's been out of the Infirmary when he finally approaches Alec Lightwood after the conclusion of a briefing, expression set with determination in spite of the withdrawn shadow that is almost always clouding his features, nowadays. ❝ ----With all due respect, I'm FINE to leave the Institute, ❞ is how he poses the beginnings of his request, arms folding across his chest as he casts an uncharacteristically beseeching gaze towards the other. He needs the distraction, needs to do SOMETHING in an attempt to forget about having had his life in the hands of a murderer, even if it's just for a moment. He needs to feel as if he's in CONTROL of his life again; which is probably why he’s allowing himself to put this level of VULNERABILITY out on display. ❝ I can’t stay in here forever. Send me out, Alec. ❞ A pause. ❝ PLEASE. ❞
( @warricrsbcw. )
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Dark eyes stare into the depths of a compact mirror as Veronica runs a tube of SCARLET lipstick across the perimeter of her mouth, movements only halting once her features have been appropriately tinted with crimson - like war paint. The television in front of her broadcasts the afternoon’s news at a volume so low that the newscaster’s voice has been reduced to nothing more than a faint buzz, but she hardly needs to be able to HEAR in order to recognise what the newest subject of coverage is. Lashes flutter as she glances from Archie to the wrecked car that is now being displayed like a trophy on her television screen, and a brow QUIRKS in a blatant display of disinterest before she finally shuffles closer to him on the couch, compact folding shut in her hands with an unrepentant SNAP. ❝ ---- It’s really TOO BAD about the St. Clairs, huh ? ❞
( @redzefron. )
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anyway, when are you cowards going to plot with me,
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beauty untamed. stupid and wild. poster boy, you’re society’s child. cut your teeth, cut your mouth, cut it out. meteor rise from obscurity. all it took was a killing spree, now the whole world’s lying at your feet.
* GOLDEN BOY !
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hey, so are we on a “tu” basis or are we still pretty “vous”
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She thinks it’s safe to say that her latest attempt to show off her culinary prowess hadn’t exactly resulted in anything particularly SPECTACULAR ( and, though Isabelle would never admit it, there may have even been some SMOKE & FIRE involved ). Regardless, there MUST be a reason as to why the mantra of ‘ at first you don’t succeed . . . ’ is so popular, and she’s choosing to keep that in mind as she dances around the kitchen and slowly begins to pile up an accumulation of ingredients on the counter with the help of the cookbook gifted to her by her father.
Movement by the doorway, however, serves to momentarily distract the Shadowhunter, and dark eyes flash towards the entrance before the corners of her lips QUIRK upwards in a silent greeting. ❝ Alec ! You’re just in time, ❞ she announces, crossing over to where her brother stands and SEIZING his hand before pulling him further into the room. ❝ I was just about to make dinner---- are you busy ? I need an ASSISTANT. ❞ And despite her questioning tone, it's rather clear that he doesn’t have much of a choice in the matter.
( @redesigned || sibling shenanigans. )
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i’m fake & have already switched out one muse for another ( harry potter for anastasia romanov ), but i’m sure i’ll bring my boy back soon enough! i just don’t want to start this blog with too many muses.
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icb ur so fake that u havent made me a starter yet ):
icb ur so fake that u haven’t plotted with me yet :/
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sonder ( n. )
1. the realisation that each passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own.
2. an epic story that continues around you like an anthill sprawling underground, with elaborate passageways to thousands of other lives in which you might appear only once, as an extra sipping coffee, as a blur of traffic passing on the highway, as a lighted window at dusk.
MUSES / / + FOLLOW / / ↺ + ♡
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harry potter tag drop.
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