# ── ⋆˚࿔ Bit Of A Tag Drop Kinda Thingy.
# ── ⋆˚࿔ bit of a tag drop kinda thingy.
More Posts from Cicadaspiel and Others
![[ID: At the core of you, a hollow. / You try to become, but you just are.]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/7bd92272885231167af1d6fe9ce44e52/fea760fd05a569d5-7e/s500x750/ea846cd0897da46e4e2cb33c61da9c20ddea5f00.jpg)
Are you a monk? César wanted to ask, but he couldn’t find the tone to make the question feel serious enough. Well, he was curious, he wanted to know if Tate’s… ability to see and interpret everything through kind lenses was natural, or an exercise to something bigger. Maybe he wanted to be a priest when he was little, César thought, looking at Tate’s face and noticing – for the very first time – how beautiful he was. I’m drunk, he thought next. “ I sure hope not cuz I don’t wanna see people ruining their fun. ” He rolled his eyes, hating on people who tried to separate fights. “ I mean, look, ” Index finger pointed to the person on the right, the one who was talking lots and screaming bits – LIAR, HOW DARE YOU?, HOUSE –, César snorted, shaking his head. “ What if they, person a, caught person b, ” His finger moved towards the other direction, finding the new target. “ Cheating inside their home? Maybe a threesome? Or worse, maybe cheating plus stealing some shit? That’s nasty work, and b has a nasty worker face. ”
｡:゜᪤｡ event # 𝟎𝟎𝟏 — in celebration . ⭑𓂃 feat. @luckmagnets :
He should place a bet, or grab his camera. The interaction between those two strangers was escalating quickly enough: conversation to discussion to maybe-a-fight?, and César had no idea about how to act. It wasn’t his business anyway, too high to even think about himself and how the fuck am I going home again?, he should not bother about others. He should, however, try to find his camera. “ Do you think it’s something personal like,” He started saying to the wind, aware of the company beside him but not enough to remember who it was. “ You cheated on me with my wife, or something very boring like baseball? ” Finishing the water inside his cup, César looked to his left, blinking slowly – and very confusingly – at Tate. “ Oh, hey. It’s you. ”
