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black--sun · 2 years

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Toxic Prompts || @white--moon

“we always hated each other, but you found out about something terrible I did and you’re using it to blackmail me. It started as running packages and other questionable activities in bad areas, but now you’re calling me at night after bad dates because I’m your kind of fucked up, but I’m having to sneak out of the house and lie to my family. It was bad enough, and now you’re having real feelings for me and neither of us know how to be anything but angry about it”

Five fucking hours of his life wasted. All because the guy never showed for the pickup.

Ichigo closes his half-formed response to Orihime’s questioning texts and crams his hands in his pockets, hoodie pulled up over bright strands as he takes the back stairs to the building, trying not to be seen, grinding his teeth. He has no idea how he’s going to explain missing dinner, but he’ll make something up. He always fucking does.

Ichigo knocks on the steel door, glancing behind him, ignoring the heat threatening to make his bangs stick to his forehead. He spits out his name when a rough voice from the other side asks what he wants. Fucking Shirosaki. Everyone is going to know who he is. He didn’t want to come here. Not that it wasn’t made clear to him that it doesn’t matter what he wants.

The door is pulled open, a quick once-over spared to make sure he’s not a threat, before he’s allowed inside. It’s not as hot in the warehouse, but it’s not comfortable either, and there’s more exposed flesh than Ichigo’s expecting. Body ink and tattoos cover more skin than clothes, but that doesn’t bother him. It makes it easier to hunt down a pale figure. Ichigo descends down another set of stairs into the sparsely furnished space, heading for Shiro as he goes.

He ducks between people he’d rather not touch or have notice him as amber eyes flick from his surroundings to his target, easily located. Shiro isn't hiding. Not here. On the contrary, Ichigo thinks he likes being on display. Just the sight of him has Ichigo’s stomach twisting in a combination of hormones and loathing. It shouldn’t. He hates everything about the bastard and Ichigo’s seen it all before.

He circles behind the couch to drop his undelivered package in Shirosaki’s lap. It doesn’t matter to him that the asshole is talking. He couldn’t care less about Shirosaki’s reputation. But he’s learned the hard way not to make it obvious. So he’s discreet when he leans down, tangling his fingers in the back of Shiro’s hair to force his head back, so he can snarl quietly in his ear. “Next time, find someone that’s not too high to show up, and stop wasting my fucking time.”

It gives him a vicious twinge of satisfaction to force Shiro to act for once, instead of vice versa.

But that’s all he has to say, and Ichigo knows the best way to deal with these situations is to get himself the hell out of them. Leave before Shiro can think of something awful to make him do just for the fun of it. So he’s already stalking back toward the stairs, less careful about who he bumps this time around, because even that simple interaction has him boiling with the urge to lash out.

#whitemoon #threads #TSP Activity Check #im thinking any time Ichigo can piss shiro off #its a good day #aksdujh

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critter-catcher · 2 years

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Given today's events, I think we need some crab facts

There are more than 4,500 known species of crabs

A crabs pregnancy only lasts 1-2 weeks and they lay 1,000 to 2,000 eggs!

The smallest crab is the Pea Crab(Left) which at max is 0.47 inches. On the other hand you have the Japanese Spider Crab(right) which can get up to twelve feet.

Now Yeti Crabs are one of my favorite types because they live on hydrothermal vents at the very bottom of the ocean. And they stick together by the thousands, each white dot is in fact a crab.

There's another fun thing about these guys, and it's actually where they get their names from. They have little hairs covering their claws which they slowly wave back and forth encouraging bacteria growth, then they eat that bacteria!

Of course this list would be incomplete if I didn't tell you the most important fact,

Crabs dance.

All for different reasons, spreading eggs, gloating over a victory, to woo potential mates, even to attract food.

So post crab rave, technically, it's accurate

#shes gone and in the ground yall #its a good day #crabs #crab facts #animals #animal facts #facts #fact post #the queen #crustacean #rave away my dudes #ocean #ocean facts

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sasha-mexik12 · 10 months

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Friday ! Yeah ! 🙋🏻‍♀️🥳😎😃💋

#me #fridaymood #its a good day #choose to be happy #enjoy your life #smile today

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lousysharkbutt · 1 year

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for some reason a lot of your older marvel art that I haven't seen in a while has been making its way to my dash lately and it's honestly The best tumblr experience. thank you so much for being the funniest person in the world and sharing that with us marvel dorks <3

THIS IS SO SWEET THANK U ILU 🥹💕

#MARVEL DORKS R MY LIFEBLOOD #ah the old days of daily marvelposting #if only i werent so busy these days #also funniest person in the world is such a huge compliment i dont deserve it but uve made me very happy ty <3 #ITS A GOOD DAY

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moeblob · 1 year

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I normally just draw Fyleth with her adoption comments, but honestly, Myleth deserves a day of it.

#fe three houses #byleth #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #please dont tag as a ship im begging you #tfw your son has been angy for months and finally shows you his smile #its a good day

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nymika-arts · 12 days

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meg!! hi! how are you? 🌻

hi Isha!!! I'm pretty good, how are you? I just did a job interview today and I think it went well so manifest an offer for me 😌💖

#its also a really nice day out so ive been walking around the city and im gonna go hang witg my brother and sisters for a while #its a good day #nyms asks

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stitches-and-icecream · 5 months

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to celebrate kissinger dying i ate an orange without peeling it

#its a good day #enjoying our campfire while the world burns

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infinitesimal-dna · 2 months

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I need my dad (homophobic) to listen to Hozier's First Time or Francesca because it might be the closest he'll ever get to understanding the queer experience

#hozier #were having a picnic and hes playing #ultimate valentines mood #its a good day #happy valentine's day

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chorusgirls · 5 months

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𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚃𝚁𝙰𝚁𝚈 𝚃𝙾 𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙼𝙰𝚈 𝙷𝙰𝚅𝙴 𝙷𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙳, 𝙸𝚃 𝙸𝚂 𝙿𝙾𝚂𝚂𝙸𝙱𝙻𝙴 𝚃𝙾 𝚂𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙰𝚃𝙴 𝙰 𝚃𝚁𝙸𝙲𝙺𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁. 𝙸𝚃 𝙾𝙽𝙻𝚈 𝚃𝙰𝙺𝙴𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚆𝙷𝙾𝙻𝙴 𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙻𝙳.

… ALIAS / NAME … solange lahiri.

… NICKNAMES … known under various aliases and monikers. referred to as la pantera in various parts of spain, andora, and portugal, along with the night fox across the south of france. accepts any pet name.

… BIRTH NAME … redacted.

… AGE … thirty-three.

… GENDER … cis woman.

… SEXUALITY … bisexual. kinsey scale 3.

… CIVILIAN OCCUPATION … jazz singer at godfather house of blues.

… CRIMINAL ASSOCIATION … jade tribe soldier, freelance cat burglar & con artist .

… NOTABLE ATTRIBUTES … doe eyes, salacious body, and most particularly the combination of the two.

… CHARACTER INSPIRATIONS … selina kyle ( detective comics ). regina lampert ( charade ). janet colgate/the jackal ( dirty rotten scoundrels ). maría elena ( vicky cristina barcelona ). holly golightly ( breakfast at tiffany's ). mirtha jung ( blow ).

( + ) alluring, passionate, charismatic, persuasive, witty, adaptable, sensual, warm, competitive, flirtatious, voracious, coy.

( - ) vindictive, possessive, unpredictable, insatiable, manipulative, dishonest, jealous, eccentric, unreliable, delusive, mercurial.

𝚂𝙿𝙰𝚁𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚃𝙴𝚂. * trigger warnings: gang activity, implied age gap, mention of fertility trouble, murder, mild gore, suicide, parental death.

as a child, you once use a shell casing as a hard candy. six months old with a gnawing pain, and your mother finds you with a hollowed-out bullet between your gums. before taking it out she hoists you onto her hip, brandishing the moment to your father like a postcard: just look at your daughter. a coo, not a reprimand. when he leans forward, chucking your fat little chin, the affection only blooms brighter: incorrigible love, all for putting the killing thing in your mouth.

it's not the metal that poisons you, but the rest of what you're weaned on. the only child of an aging criminal emperor, your family rules mumbai and the shadow beyond with a traditionally held & elegantly dressed fist. beyond just the apple of your father's eye, you are the fruit bowl and the orchard too — where once he had dreaded the thought of a daughter, your birth shifts both his heart and his vision. when your mother's womb bares no other children, it does not matter: it's your head, scented with rosemary and bathed in milk, who will one day wear the crown. a little shadow, they call you, not for your quiet existence (you learned to raise your voice above the echo of gunshots in the compound, your mouth its own pistol, never to be outdone) but how tightly you share your father's. he says it's lesson, learning by proximity, but the pair of you know the truth: it's the close-keeping of a treasure. neither of you can bare separation.

sat beneath the shadow of a pomegranate tree in the back of the family estate: that's where you watch your father die. your mother's hand is slipped into yours as the gun raises, but it's your fingers who hold tight. a steadying force, as solid and hard-boned as the gaze you level at the usurper. the man who would be a king killer looks little more than a desperate boy with those shaking hands, older than you but young and untested enough to believe this is the way you build a kingdom. blood sprays your bare feet. warm. thick. mother wails, just as hot, just as molten. you'll join her later in the privacy of a home turned prison — grief emptying out your whole body, so violent it voids your stomach, leaves you retching on the cool marble floor — but now you only look. stare. fix him with the eyes that will not flinch, watching as he recedes to claim what was once yours.

you are married to your father's killer on the grounds watered with his blood. it is your choice of location just as it is your pain, your memory, your plan. mother dresses for a funeral, barred from the ceremony. it's like watching you walk to your death. you cannot afford to explain your decision to her, nor express the reason for your disagreement: the only way to tear throat is to kiss it first. only two years between the bookends of death and ceremony, but a lifetime stretches between it: time rendered thick and acidic with all that you must do to convince him of your choice. it was your power, you promise, palm on the place his heart would be, now it is what i have found beneath it. it's impossible to distinguish the look of hunger your husband wears at the altar to the ravenous one he will wear later, in the bed chamber: the starvation for your beauty identical to that of your legacy. you allow him to put his mouth on both and pretend to roll down his throat.

the cost of retribution, as the gods dictate, is as great as the crime: a quarter of your life, spent at the side of your father's killer. the dissolution of your father's empire, its rubble stuck irrevocably to your soles. the life of your mother, taken at her own hands: unable to watch any longer the unnatural crime of your union. but revenge comes, all the same. it comes like crows to the corpse, black clouds to the summer sky. inevitable. six years of plotting, and finally you destroy that which shattered you first; despot-husband dead, legacy stamped out. you do not leave with nothing when it is all over: it is the last known flight of a criminal's private plane, chartered to an unknown location in western europe before disappearing.

your various lives as a zoetrope, each version of yourself seemingly separate until you spin fast enough: lover, thief, artist, grifter, impersonator, photographer, forger, heiress. all these variations, these distinct new selves, yet the story only goes round and round on a wheel: you throw yourself into the role, the new country, the life. you find love where there is none, create it like god. you steal whatever is not bolted down to the floor. and when it tires out under your feet, when the grounds shrink and leave you painted into a corner ⸺ you climb the walls. that's how you come to new york, the crumbs of a southern french villa stuck to your heel, glancing up at the burned neon sky through sleek black glasses: open up darling, i'm home.

SUMMARY : only child of one of india's largest organized crime rings watches as her father's operation is usurped by a rival, only to be forced to marry him to further legitimize his takeover. after six years of an intimate, gnarled long con, solange brings down her despot husband at the cost of crumbling her father's legacy too. at twenty-four, having slain a false king and carrying a guilt she'll never acknowledge, solange leaves to europe to begin a new life — the first in a series. grifter, con artist, cat burglar — she has as many criminal occupations as she does aliases. after a recent, lengthy stint in the french riviera, she's hurricaned into new york under the name solange lahiri.

𝙷𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙲𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽𝚂.

exceptional verbal mimic. give her a half hour in earshot and she'll replicate your voice.

the hat game is unrivaled. she's got one for every occasion, and then several more.

talks a lot with her hands, but it's a long con to distract you from where they're going (your wallet, your purse, your jewelry)

there's no easy way to say this, but her tits are always physically or metaphorically out. it's just part of the look.

has a very well-adjusted cat who has been carted all over the world with her. technically he is one of the most expensive cats in the world (seriously), being an f1 bengal she stole from his previous owner. sola has renamed him paul newman. he's surprisingly chill except when left without enough space to run around. much like his owner he will then start clawing shit up.

was briefly a british wag, dating one of manchester united's stars. probably jamie tartt coded. looooved the attention.

realistically and despite how outlandish some of sola's escapades are, subconsciously or otherwise she's playing it very safe. not only an incredibly talented thief, but primed once upon a time to inherit a crime ring — but she contents herself with stealing jewelry and spouses? a shame really. someone call her on it.

gluttonous in all aspects of life. food, drink, laughter, sex. she doesn't do anything in moderation

prefers an artisanal coffee shop, but pops into starbucks regularly to snag something off their bar. thank you easily exploitable mobile ordering honour system

𝚆𝙰𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙳.

this energy. where's my homoerotic sapphic fight scene

rival from the hanging man. solange actively joined a gang outside of the heist leaders because she wanted a little <3 fun competition <3 and she's decided you're in a personal rivalry. all the better if this other person is just ? literally what did i do to deserve this im just tryna get through the day

girlies whose friendship she has acquired through compulsive charisma

a past fling/relationship with someone who vacationed in one of her hot spots

a mark she's taken on not for jade tribe purposes but because she can't sit still ever :) personal project

anybody in any avenue of law enforcement who has previously or currently worked on a job of hers that solange is currently fucking with

somebody (probably older, possibly a head of a gang??) who knew and worked with her father !!! bonus points for knowing her as a kid

#lawlessintro #its a good day

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not--oki · 6 months

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Today was honestly a good day and I'm just happy about it :)

Nothing interesting happened, I literally just went to work. But the entire time I was singing the "peaches" song from super mario, I tried a new tea that I'm obsessed with, and I've had some lovely conversations I can't quite get out of my head.

#its a good day

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brighteyedbeautygeek · 6 months

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