#Knight of Disks

[saganssorcery]

It's Sunday and time for another weekly Thoth reading for the followers of Sagans Sorcery:

The Priestess and Knight of Disks

𝗧𝗵𝗲 ���𝘆𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗺𝗮𝗻𝗶𝗳𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻

Travelling across a desert we drop water, this water irrigates the path of the desert making it fertile and able to produce crops. This is the image these two cards bring to my mind's eye, the message I am seeing here is; when things look barren, we simply need to walk the path with nourishment and it will turn from barren desert to bustling agriculture. Working on that which brings nourishment to the body and soul will naturally nourish the path we choose to walk and work on. The mystery that is being revealed here might very well be that with perseverance through the hardship we will create everything we need.

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𝗦𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗶𝗰𝗲𝘀

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𝗧𝗵𝗼𝘁𝗵 𝗧𝗮𝗿𝗼𝘁

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[crashhole]

Lee Pyron is the Knight of Disks (Pentacles)

A card of material harvest; Pyron was murdered at the peak of his life to have his body and soul taken in service of the Tao family. Like the Knight from the Thoth Tarot, Pyron works with a flail type weapon- his nunchaku

[youdgetbored]

Last day for @merlintarotfest !yikes. (6 pages I think)

Rating: general

Summary: merthur hurt/comfort

Title: Always

Justice 

King of pentacles 

Ace of wands

Arthur was always making a decision. He sits at a wooden table, arms clasped in front of him. A choice must be made, today no different from any other.

As a prince he hardly thought about the balance of the world. Then the day came when he was king.

Every life in the kingdom rested on his shoulders. Each threat of war, of strife, of disaster, it was up to the king to ensure the safety of those who could not fend for themselves. With the crown laid against his brow, Arthur made no decision lightly. But had he ever truly? Sure, jousts and tournaments didn’t weigh on his mind. His fathers temper was a different story. Growing up alongside Morgana's rebellious spirit meant at the drop of a hat, he had to be at her side. As a son who had experienced Uther’s rage firsthand, he knew it was nothing to be trifled with.

So when was the responsibility truly his? Nearly his whole life decided for him before he could walk, when was the gavel placed in his hands? Arthur could not say. The day his eyes opened to it was a different story.

A story that began in his sleep.

Groggy eyed, covered in webs with the rest of the dining room guests, a dagger flew to his chest. To pierce his beating heart, stop him dead.

When the physician's ward threw himself in front of the weapon.

The boy he had bullied, thrown in jail. He’d nearly taken his head off with a mace, yet Arthur lived because of him. 

The two had become an unusual pair. Camelot knights say they saw the change immediately. Arthur openly siding with a servant over a royal, based only on their word. He risked death to find a cure for a poisoned cup. He disobeyed the law to save a young boy, something only the Druids knew. The qualities of a king were always in him. Decisions made of necessity and fairness, of what was deserved. Death or disgrace was never something he ever feared. Yes, he awoke that day in the dining hall. But it would be later that he found himself to be the judge and the accused in one verdict.

When he found himself on the shore sat across from his servant.

Sat across from Merlin.

Merlin, who he had told to stay home, away from trouble. The pesky servant who didn’t know how to polish armor, who struggled to lift a sword. The boy who had saved his life. Arthur owed him a life debt. To pay it, was only just.

Merlin sits across from him now. It was only hours ago that Gaius was faced with tending to both of their injuries in this very room. Lanterns flicker in their silence, illuminating his shadowed eyes. For a brief moment, Arthur pictures the ember dragon Merlin had conjured the night before. He lets out a deep sigh, a life debt.

***

Gaius has always been a caretaker. Working under King Uther took patience. Gaius did not miss those days, and thank the old gods, Arthur was nothing like his father. 

The day that Arthur learned the truth about Merlin's magic, Gaius hoped he would not see Uthers eyes in his king.

Arthur's sword swung viciously at the raiders. Camelot had been attacked, and the enemy was unrelenting. The knights pressed on, determined to fight. Gaius tended to the wounded in a makeshift hospital, the Citadel already overrun. Gwen stood close by, defending him and his patients. He risked a glance outside to see Arthur take down another enemy. The king fought through his injuries, but Gaius had practically raised Arthur. It was obvious his energy waned. 

Merlin's shout drew both of their attentions. Arthurs head whipped to the side in time to see a soldier with blonde hair shove Merlin to the ground. His head collided with a wooden barrel, the sword he held clattering out of his grasp. He rolled to the side. Had his reaction time been any slower, the spear that came down on his shoulder would have been an injury that Gaius couldn’t cure.

An agonizing cry split through the air. Gaius moved forward without thinking, leaving Gwen behind. He stayed close to the buildings as he ran. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Arthur abandon his current fight, his only concern for Merlin. They ran, Arthur much faster than Gaius’s old bones, decades of labor slowing him down. He had a clear sight of Merlin now, still on the ground but fighting. His attacker wrenched the spear out of his shoulder causing another howl. Merlin kicked with all his might, and the man let out his own yell before falling to one knee.

Gaius was almost there, huffing and sore and almost there. He readied a spell in his mind. Without practice there was no certainty it would work, there were witnesses that he couldn't prevent. The king himself was running towards the same goal. But this was Merlin, and as he saw a second enemy round the corner towards his boy, he had to do something. 

He felt the explosion before he heard it. On Gaius’s left a force pushed him off his feet, his collision with the ground unstoppable. A ringing overtook his ears while he blinked back tears. He tried to pry himself off the gravel with no luck, and he felt the gold in his eyes fade. There would be no magic from him today. Prying his eyes off the ground he found Merlin, and thank the old religion, Arthur had made it to his side.

Merlin was still injured, his right hand pressed firmly against his left shoulder. The man who stabbed him lay limp at his feet. Arthur was in a frenzy, one hand planted firmly on Merlin's good arm with the other clearing a path with his sword. The enemies kept coming though, and while Gaius tried again to clear his head, he saw the soldier catch Arthur off guard.

A pained scream filled the air, immediately followed by a roar. Arthurs knees buckled. His grip on Merlin slipped, his eyes clenched shut. Before he had time to hit the ground, Merlin let off a burst. Of what, it wasn’t clear. Maybe it was the blood rushing to Gaius’s head, or the chaos of battle. One second, Merlin was injured and slow. The next, the air around him turned to static. Gaius didn’t need to see Merlin's eyes to know what they glowed with.

A wave of nausea overtook Gaius, he was not used to this kind of exertion. His gaze was wrenched from his boys as he took deep breaths. Eventually the buzzing in his head stopped. With the battle still raging around him, he pushed himself to his feet. Arthur was still on his knees, his sword stuck into the ground as a crutch. Merlin stood by his side, they had barely moved from their places. Enemies littered the ground around them. The two were untouched, apart from their previous injuries.

Arthur was looking up at Merlin. Though it was more than that. Injuries clouded his expression, Gaius knew Arthur only had a few minutes before he fell unconscious. Gaius followed Arthur's gaze to Merlin's hand, extended out in front of him. The remnants of his spellcasting like a blaze of flame, still at his fingertips. Arthur was not just looking at Merlin.

Arthur was seeing Merlin.

Gaius brings tea to the table they now sit at. He sets it down, stealing a glance towards Arthur. The king's eyes remain locked on Merlin. His expression is unreadable, apart from what Gaius knows is betrayal. It makes sense of course. A lifetime of trust in Gaius, almost a decade in Merlin, all the while witnessing the destruction sorcery can cause. 

Not wanting to disturb them further, Gaius heads towards the door. The brass knob is cold in his hand. He gives a tug, the old wood resonating a loud creak through the room. As he walks through the doorway, he hopes only that his boys can find patience and understanding within each other.

***

Merlin is never free. His mornings begin before sunrise, with breakfast and laundry and cleaning. To be at Arthurs side is never dull, and jokes aside, it's work that Merlin enjoys. When he is not by Arthurs side he often finds himself with Gaius. The skills of a trained physician live within Merlin after years of healing injuries. Most days, it is rare to have a moment to sit with his thoughts. Which sometimes comes as a relief.

Sorcery remains outlawed in most parts of the land, why wouldn’t it? The hunt for dragons was successful. Magic can cause great harm, the absence of it should surely be the fix. But magic isn’t something simply conjured, it is intertwined in the world itself. It hums with life. Merlin was born with the power of a sun. He has learned to keep it in his palms, unseen.

Arthur sits across from him. He wears a scarlet tunic, faded from use. His eyebrows are knit with indecision as they have been for the past couple minutes. Merlin glances down at the two cups of tea between them, steam coming off the tops. He cannot think of something to say, to make up for the lies. At the beginning they were out of necessity, Uther would've never stood for a sorcerer in the court. When Arthur became king though, the circumstances changed. Was there a better time? A moment Merlin could’ve told him by his own choice. Merlin is pulled from his thoughts as Arthur reaches for one of the cups. 

“The whole time?” Arthur's voice is not harsh, but Merlin is still struck by the suddenness of it. Does he mean the whole time they’ve known each other? The whole time he’s been king? He’s had magic his whole life, is he asking from the beginning? Merlin doesn’t know where to start. He doesn’t break the king's gaze.

“Yes.”

Arthur expects him to go on, or maybe he too doesn’t know what to say, because another silence fills the air. Merlin knows his expression must be sorrowful, though he can’t seem to rid himself of it. 

Arthur turns the cup slowly on the table. “How much of it was a lie?” 

If Merlin was not already shattered, this would have broken the glass. Pinpricks form behind his eyes and he stifles them. He rolls his left shoulder back, letting the pain from the night before wash over him.

“I’m still your friend, that was always real.” Merlin can barely say the words. No explanation feels good enough for why he’s waited this long. He has no ulterior motive, nor was it something Arthur did wrong. Even through his arrogance he's had a soft soul. How can Merlin explain-

“You didn’t trust me.” 

The hurt in Arthur's voice is overwhelming. When Merlin brings his eyes up to meet his kings, he is struck by how much yearning lies in them. Here he sits, faced with an impossible choice, and he wants.

Merlin holds Arthurs gaze, “I do trust you.” It seems too simple. Thoughts swarm in his head, jumbling his words. 

Arthur adjusts his cup again, still having not taken a sip from it. His eyes drop to the worn wooden table. He places his cup to his side and winces, one of many injuries flaring up. 

“Is it your arm?” Merlin leans forward. 

“You don’t have to do that,” Arthur sighs, but his look of concentration doesn’t break. 

Merlin cocks his head. He tends to be the jumpier of the two of them, but Arthur hasn’t moved much at all today. 

“I can get Gaius if you’d like,” Merlin stands from his chair, “You shouldn’t let those cuts go unchecked.”

Arthur reaches out a hand to stop him, “Merlin, just leave it.” He shuts his eyes with the movement.

The injuries should be healing by now. Merlin makes his way past him to grab a tonic for the pain when he catches a glimpse Arthurs lower shirt. A dark patch has formed near his ribcage.

“Are you bleeding?” Merlin kneels at his side.

Arthur shakes his head, “I opened it this morning, it’s fine.”

“Arthur-”

“Merlin.” Arthur's eyes meet his again, this time wet with grief. Merlin stays there, hands frozen in the air between them. He looks up at his king, his friend, his other half. He is met with only warmth. 

Arthur places a hand on Merlin's injured shoulder. He thinks of yesterday's battle, of the chaos and franticness and fear. He replays the fight in his head. Of the collision with the ground, his pierced shoulder. They all fell away when he saw the sword find Arthur. Only a day ago the two of them were flipped. Arthur knelt, looking up at Merlin in awe. Merlin thinks of the aftermath, the rapid explanations, the dragon of embers he had conjured as he lay in bed, Arthur at his side. The choice has never felt like it was his. He wondered if Arthur felt the same way.

Merlin says something he’s already said the previous night.

“I'm sorry.”

Arthur draws his eyebrows together, “I know,” With his free hand, he takes Merlins, “I am too.” 

They stay that way for minutes. Merlin doesn’t know where he would begin, and Arthur doesn’t seem to think it matters. All the years they’ve spent together, a prince and his servant. A knight of camelot and his healer. The king and the sorcerer. Arthur, and Merlin. The longer he holds Arthur's hand, Merlin wonders what could ever change that.

Arthur raises an eyebrow, “If what you said last night is true, I imagine I owe you more than one life debt.”

This is what it comes down to. No matter how much love he holds for Merlin, Arthur is the king. He has to make a ruling that's just, and fair. 

“Then for the crime of sorcerey?” Merlin's stomach twists at calling sorcery a crime, “What have you decided?” The lantern on their right dims, its oil running out. He drops his head, letting his face brush against the hand still on his shoulder.

Arthur's voice is gentle, “That was never a decision I had to think about.”

Merlin snaps his head back up, confusion knit in his own brow. Magic is who Merlin is. It’s more than incantations, more than old scrolls. Magic binds the universe, Arthur himself was born of it. Sorcery has been outlawed for decades in Camelot, usually at the penalty of death. Yet for Merlin, Arthur didn’t consider such an outcome.

Arthur stands, hoisting Merlin up to him, “Come on, help me patch this cut up will you.” He lets himself be guided to the cot. As they sit, Merlin feels a spark inside him. He can’t pull his eyes away from Arthur.

“While you’re at it, why don’t you tell me how to make a poultice for that shoulder.” Arthur laughs under his breath, “Since I’ve got to do everything around here.” He lifts up his shirt, revealing the open gash. Merlin takes no time to get the supplies. 

“You know,” Merlin says, sitting next to him, “You really should’ve told Gaius about this sooner.” Merlin begins to treat Arthurs wound, hands working swiftly and soft. The air around them settles, an unasked question between the two answered. At least for now. When Arthur is bandaged up, he drops his shirt.

“I mean really,” Merlin smirks, “We can’t have the king collapsing from blood loss.”

“Merlin?”

“Yes?”

“Shut up.” A hand grips Merlin's shirt collar and tugs him forward.

The kiss is an eruption. It ignites the embers in Merlin, sets loose a flood, burns down the castles and walls, shakes all the trees in the forest. First a kiss, then a hand on his face, his own hand against Arthurs chest. Then there is only Arthur. From the day he arrived in Camelot, there was only ever Arthur.

When they break apart, Arthur’s eyes are full of love, same as always. He points to a lantern on Merlin's left.

“Show me again.”

[scorchrend]

i have to wonder how the game npcs recognize me all the time

[b4kuch1n]

the king shunned, the lion dead, the knight lost, the princess absent. but the wizard lives.

[lesuccube]

➚ 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐊 𝐃 : ᴀᴜ-ᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ — ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ , ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ ʟᴏᴠᴇ

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 — a treat for you and your lover .

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 — fluff infection

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 — not beta'd , constructive criticism is welcomed . reblogs and comments are appreciated .

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 — 0.5k

baker!steven who loves making you treats and sneaks them into your lunch bag without you knowing.

baker!steven who makes the most of his goodies gluten free but will occasionally (read: every time you ask for baked treats) indulge your request to make them sugary and sweet.

baker!steven who would spend sleepless nights in the kitchen concocting new recipes.

baker!steven who, with enough encouragement from you, opens up a shop after his sudden unemployment from the museum.

baker!steven who cried upon hearing that you had used up most of your lifesavings to get him a quaint spot downtown with a busy enough street that guarantees him a steady flow of customers.

baker!steven who promised to pay you back for your investment and won't take no for an answer which in the end resulted into agreeing to open a joint account so his 'debt' would be put to other uses like your shared responsibilities like rent, groceries and for emergencies.

baker!steven who absolutely adores his shop, making sure to keep his customers saitisfied with quality food (he has two menus, separating gluten free items for the vegan options).

baker!steven who makes friends with his regulars, chatting up with the old ladies that come in for afternoon tea and crumpets, helping college students to the best he can but absolutely enjoys it when they ask help for history subjects and entertains little children with ancient egyptian trivias and gives them tiny trinkets for free.

baker!steven who refused to serve donna when she came in for coffee after the horrible treatment she had given him when he used to work at the museum.

baker!steven who closed shop for a few hours to call you up looking for comfort because seeing donna so suddenly after finally recovering from what he had endured from her before shook him.

baker!steven who would most definitely close the bakery after lunch rush to personally visit you at work to hand you a basket full of extra baked goods to share with your co-workers.

baker!steven who loves when fall arrives because he gets to decorate the shop in fall amd halloween themes and gets to experiment baking with different pans and cookie cutters.

baker!steven who eventually experiments with learning how to make drinks so the equipment you had gotten him will be put to good use until he learns the hard way that brewing coffee is not good for his autistic brain.

baker!steven who would hire a barista instead to make the drinks and gets along with them, gives them free treats during lunch break and gives them leftovers from the day's batch.

baker!steven who eventually joins the farmers market after getting enough recognition from customers in his street and encouragement from aunties from the neighborhood.

baker!steven who had to close his stall after just a few hours because he had sold out all of his baked batches for the day.

baker!steven who 100% loves his new career path.

baker!steven who would drop by the street act he used to talk to after work hours from the museum to give him a goodie bag and a big tip just because.

baker!steven who waits for you before closing up for the day so he can dance with you between counters and tables, murmuring sweet, sweet love to your ears in between laughter and feeds you a small fresh batch of your favorite cookies before walking back to his place hand in hand with you.

[nextlevelclawi]

well hey there ! im kris , and im new to tumblr (though ive been stalking the site without an account for yearss) . i like drawing and finding new music !! and some random videogames like celeste , hollow knight or the binding of isaac .

some artists i like are magdalena bay, poppy, bjork, lady gaga, carly rae jepsen, charli xcx, paramore, system of a down, SOPHIE, plus a ton more others (i listen to a LOT of different music)

so uhh if anyone wants to be my oomf , that'd be greatly appreciated ^^

[forcedhesitation]

mr. hux. hello... mr. hux

[poyoofthestars]

We are back with more shirts!! -Mod

Dialogues:

1. TC and PV Pecharunt Kirbrunt's assistant: Kieranrunt

(Time in shirt: 24 hours)

TC: One day you’ll be in here without me

PV: We’ll see

Kieranrunt: Now folks, they're the problem

Kirbrunt: Agreed

2. Marx and Bandana Dee Kirbrunt's assistant: Magolor

(Time in shirt: unknown)

Bandana: You little piece of-! You're the reason why I'm here!!

Marx: (not listening and thinks,) I can't stand Mags.

Magolor, on the side: (thinking) Enjoy your extended period, Marx

3. Dedede and Dark Matter (Taranza) Kirbrunt's assistant: Gooey

(Time in shirt: 24 hours)

Dedede: STAY AWAY FROM ME, YOU CREEP!!!

DM(T): But I'm your husband

Dedede: Gross!

Gooey, unaware of the arguing behind him: Get along you two

4. Taranza and Dark Meta Knight Kirbrunt's assistant: Void

(Time in shirt: 48 hours)

Taranza: One of these days, I'm gonna get rid of you

Dark, who duct tape over his mouth: Mmph mmp mmph (The feeling is mutual)

Void: Remove the tape and the time is extended

5. TC Pecharunt and Marx Kirbunt's assistant: PV Pecharunt, everyone in the Star Allies

(Time in shirt: unknown)

PV, dying of laughter on the floor: Hahaha! Oh my Original One! This is ridiculous! Who's in the shirt now, huh?

TC: Shut up

Marx: Nice friendship, peachy

TC: You shut up

Marx: Shut up, shmarsh up

6. TC and PV Kieran Kirbrunt's assistant: Kieranrunt

TC Kieran: I know we both want to get stronger, but your annoying.

PV Kieran: Shut up, arsewhole

TC Pecharunt: How?

PV Pecharunt: ...why?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kirbrunt and Kieranrunt: That's all folks!

credits~~

TC Pecharunt, TC Kieran - @tealmaskmybeloved/ @the-boy-and-the-poison-puppeteer

PV Pecharunt, PV Kieran - @milliemuus

Kieranrunt - @marisol124

Dark Matter Taranza - @usps-first-class

[silvermoon424]

I always think I'm so tech savvy until I have to ask for help on something specific from the internet and it's like they're speaking a different language lmao

[fierykitten2]

Half of my team ended up crying after toughing out a supereffective move this battle. Out of the three of them, only Char actually fainted in the battle (Passionfruit switched out with Volt Switch and Cherry was saved by Knight KOing Scizor. Char was going to heal by using Bitter Blade on Scizor but she was attacked before she could do anything)

Also I think Knight and Cherry’s cries kinda synchronise well with each other

[simplyghosting]

Text-based games are underrated and deserve more love send post

[crashhole]

Tony Tony Chopper is the Knight of Pentacles

Tarot: Mirror of the Soul

[the-classic-dreamer]

Specter Knight did his own Commercial. Youtube Link: https://www.youtube.com/shorts/Rvdj7XS8YbM

[scorchrend]

i said i was back but college is back to flaying me. i dont really have the energy to juggle more than one social media so if you want to see me you can find me on bluesky as historiahysteria..

[lesuccube]

➚ 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐊 𝐃 : ᴀᴜ-ᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ — ᴍɪɴᴇ

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 — he's gotten awfully close , thank god you didn't know much better . at least , that was good news to him .

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 — dark trojan [ read at your own risk ! ]

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 — not beta'd, constructive criticism is welcomed . comments and reblogs are appreciated .

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 — 0.7k

you've been working with steven at the museum for quite a while now. him, still a gift shop-ist and you a new guide for the greek exhibit. at first steven was jealous how they easily gave away the position of tour guide but when he passed by your group during your first month when donna made him do inventory, he was hooked.

you were smart and passionate, fun and easygoing. plenty of the people you guided had questions to ask that you readily answered, both from adults and children. usually the former are quiet, uninterested in the old history but you had a way to charm people, steven was no exception.

so he made the effort to befriend you. approaching you more until it was you who would seek him out during lunch. on days you were able to leave early, you'd join steven doing inventory because donna got mad at him again for being late. as per usual.

"you don't have to stick around f'me love, i'm used to it." earthy browns would look at yours through curly bangs, sheepish at having held you back from going home early. "i know i don't... but i want to."

and that was when he had truly fallen in love with you. if you can even call that love. steven was obsessed, he was obsessed with your kindness, with your knowledge. he wanted that all to himself. how can he not when you readily give it when he comes by to ask for your time. you were so nice, so good, so beautiful... he hopes you like what he has planned for you.

he began following you in and out of work, uncaring he loses sleep. not that he gets that many hours in anyways. he followed you for months until he has learned your routine outside your house, after that he learned how to break into your place and get to know you even better in the comforts of your home. he steals a few things, a spoon you used that day, a shirt buried underneath your laundry, a pair of panties from your freshly folded ones... some he returns and others, well let's just say they became a permanent part of his collection of you.

he worships the things you own, treats them like fine china. most of the time that is. he uses them to his pleasure other times, unable to hold back. your smell would linger on the items he'd steal and he'd sniff it until it disappears, replaced by his own. then he'll clean them up (he bought the same laundry detergent just for this case) and return them. most of them.

nearly a year into your friendship, steven asked you out for a simple hang out at the park, saying he found a nice spot for a picnic just you and him. unaware of his true intentions, you had agreed.

at first it had gone well, you and steven chatted and chatted, eating the sandwiches you had prepared until he handed you a glass of lemonade did it start going downhill. half an hour after your brunch you started feeling sluggish, your mind hazy and muddled. you don't notice steven grinning in joy, knowing that his plans were finally coming into fruition. he had drugged your drink, enough to weaken your muscles for you to go down without a fight and then... light's out.

oh how long did he wait for this moment.

"oh love, i've wanted you for so long... ever since i passed by your first tour i've been madly in love with you d'you know that? of course you didn't silly me." he circles your weakening body, struggling to stay awake, struggling to hear him. "w-why?" was the only thing your lips were able to get out in your fight to stay conscious, alarm bells ringing in your head at steven's approaching figure.

he grins a cruel, wicked grin when you're finally unable to hold yourself up, lying limply on the blanket he had all but spread out and you looked like a masterpiece to him at that moment. like a fallen angel in your pretty white dress, hair spread out before you like a beautiful halo. like a painting, like art had come to life, you were so, so beautiful. you were gorgeous in his eyes and you always will be.

"why? well... i can't stop thinking how perfect we would be together."