#i always let the person cut their own cards but then i draw the cards

[f4ggydog]

lottie x reader: point of no return🔞

warnings: noncon, smut, force/coercion, dead dove, dark lottie, omegaverse dynamics, alpha lottie, breeding, deflowering, blood, lottie has a cock, reader has a pussy

Out of the entire Yellowjackets crowd, only two of them were alphas. Those roles belonged to Shauna and Lottie. And Shauna was the only one who obtained a breeder, which was the unfortunate Melissa who definitely didn’t consent to being picked. But in a way, despite Shauna’s undeniable brutality, Lottie still led them all.

She had the closest connection to the wilderness. She was the first to don the antler queen crown. Lottie led the ritual during Coach Ben’s feast and Lottie pushed them deeper into the wilderness’ belief system. She never wanted to return home back to her lavish penthouse. Lottie found a purpose inside of the forest that her parents nor her riches could supply. For the first time in ages, Lottie felt complete. She felt like she had a reason to continue living and her service to ‘it’ was a priority she couldn’t ignore.

It called for Lottie to have a mate. Of course you understood the possible implications of that, but you thought there was no way in hell you would get chosen. If anything, you saw the role going to either Akilah or Travis. But, your anxiety grew when you saw Travis wasn’t a part of the draw. That’s okay, though. Literally anyone else could’ve gotten selected. It was going to be alright…until it wasn’t.

You are adamant in your belief that you weren’t supposed to be picked. The cards must’ve been rigged. Van must’ve fucked up the shuffling. What were the odds that you drew the queen? God, you really wish you could’ve gotten yourself into AP Stats.

You were doing so good, evading the howling girls and managing to slip past obstacles in the snow. Your only fault was cutting your foot on a tree branch. But you recovered swiftly from your injury and ignored the blood trickling into the fluffy white. However, the chase couldn’t go in your favor for too long.

You turned one corner and found yourself getting tackled to the floor. You fell face first in the ground, the snow coating your white dress. You quickly crawl backwards until your back hits the tree. Lottie inches closer, a perverted and ominous glint in her eyeballs. She pants, her mouth watering at the thought of conquering your untouched body.

“Get back!” You cry out, shooing Lottie away like she’s a cat sitting on the counter. “I-I reject you.”

“An omega can’t reject their partner,” Lottie chuckles. “Only an alpha gets to decide if they will reject you or not. And, well, I’m definitely not saying no to you.”

“Get away, Lottie!” You shout. “I’m warning you! Leave me alone! Go hunt someone else. I’m not yours!”

“Would you rather wait until we get back to camp?” Lottie smirks. “Would you rather me breed you in front of everyone else? That would send a message, wouldn’t it?”

“No! No, what the fuck? Lottie, I’m not yours! I’m not your mate! I was chosen by chance, not by destiny.”

“This is your role,” Lottie explains. “We all have a job here. The wilderness wanted you to be my perfect little mate. You picked the queen card because it knew you would be fantastic for the job. I could sense it too.”

“What are you talking about? What is it, Lottie?”

Lottie’s smirk only widens.

“It doesn’t have to explain itself. It’s just there, guiding us through every decision and sacrifice it desires. It called on you to be mine. Shauna already had her mate chosen. I can’t be an alpha without my own personal breeder.”

“And I’m sure Melissa’s fucking ecstatic about that decision!” You say sarcastically. “Shauna wouldn’t even let that girl break up with her! Melissa tried to leave and this wolf psychology bullshit wouldn’t let her!”

“Because you can’t just leave. It’s not as simple as that, Y/N. We’re bound by a red string of fate. Once you’re tied to me, you’re connected to me forever. And I will always find you, no matter if we’re miles apart.”

Lottie makes it sound so romantic, as if you aren’t hesitant to be used like an incubator.

“It’s your choice,” Lottie states. “We can have our own private moment here, just the two of us. You become mine without anyone having to witness you at what you would perceive is your… ‘lowest.’ Or I can bring you back and let the others watch.”

Lottie pulls you from your spot under the tree and forces you onto your back. She can feel her cock throbbing in her pants, aching to breach through your pussy and put a baby inside. She squeezes her bulge to provide herself temporary relief and sighs at your mortified figure. It excited her further to see you in distress, to see you ripe for the taking and in terror.

But, you gotta admit that you’d rather have Lottie ravish you here. You can’t imagine the embarrassment of being violated in front of a crowd, them being forced to watch while your innocence is ripped away from you. Of course, if neither was an option, that would be your preference.

“You look so good,” Lottie rasps. “The way your dress gives me easy access, every quiver from your thighs, your breath catching in your throat. It’s too good to ignore.”

Lottie pins your hands together so that your crawling is worthless. Your legs aim to kick at her face, but they miss every time. You’re caught as prey in winter’s harshest hour, yet you don’t feel as frigid as you should.

You’re concerned that frostbite is out of the question. There’s a pool of heat between your legs that spreads its warmth throughout the rest of your body. You feel it soak up in your arms and legs and even your chest. Though, the heat doesn’t seem abnormal or manufactured. It’s legitimate and natural. Not understanding the source only serves to scare you more.

“Look at that.” Lottie presses her hand down on your core, which makes you yelp. Again, your attempts to kick her back are unsuccessful. Frankly, they make you look like a child wrestling with their mother over bedtime. “It knows you were the chosen one. You’re already getting so hot for me.”

You frown, shaking your head like blatant refusal will do you any justice. Lottie’s not discouraged. Your pussy’s a special place to plant her cum inside. She won’t have your fear distract her from fulfilling the wilderness’ orders. Your virginity’s a sacrifice for the satisfaction for the pack. Lottie demands your purity. And in exchange, the pack sleeps another night without death creeping closer. Your virginity’s a present to the gods who aren’t easily pleased, whether you’re an eager donor or otherwise.

“Why is my body doing this?” You whimper.

“Your body wants me just as bad as I want you,” Lottie affirms. “It wants you out of that old dress and naked before me. This isn’t a means of hurting you or punishment. It’s dedication, it’s nourishment, it’s liberation.”

Liberation? To be kept by an alpha’s chains? You almost laughed at that hypothesis. But, that confident gaze in Lottie’s eye was no giggling matter.

She removes the clothing resting on the lower half of her body. You recoil instantly at the size of Lottie’s shaft. She’s thick and fully erect, her tanned flesh twitching at the prospect of slipping inside your moist walls.

“It’s better if you stay still,” Lottie advises. “Makes the process smoother. For both of us, of course.”

You wriggle under Lottie’s grip. Her hand finds its way to the bottom half of your dirty white dress and rips it open. Momentarily, you forget that you were in such a rush to get dressed for the hunt that you didn’t even toss on underwear. Not that a scenario with you wearing undergarments would matter much. Lottie would get to your soft cunt one way or another.

“Exquisite,” Lottie comments, frothing at the mouth. “I don’t even think you need a warm up. That pussy’s ready to be used.”

“Lottie please don’t.” You know begging won’t get you proper solutions. But you’re unsure of what course of action will get Lottie’s erection to simmer down. You’ll try every option you’ve got at your disposal. However, Lottie wields determination like you’ve never observed before.

She pumps her cock in her hand, groaning at the gooey precum that oozes out. Your pussy involuntarily pulses at the sight of such a strong member. Your body’s reactions don’t mean you want this to happen. But even the most headstrong omega can’t ignore their biology.

“It’s not even gonna fit,” you remark. “Y-You’re too big.”

“A good alpha knows how to make it fit for their mate,” Lottie reassures.

Lottie teases the head of her cock against your quivering pussy. She rubs her tip against your slit, mixing it with your juices. Lottie gasps at the sensation, the intense heat overpowering any chill the winter could provide.

“Don’t do this.” Your eyes widen and you stare at Lottie with bated breath. “L-Lottie, I’m not ready. I’m not ready for this.”

“If you weren’t ready, the wilderness wouldn’t have chosen you. You selecting the queen card is sheer proof that this is the time.”

“I-I didn’t know I would get the queen card. I didn’t plan to get it. Lottie, I didn’t want to get it.”

Your pleas are useless chitchat. Lottie wants to get the show on the road. Without further questioning or attempts at distraction, Lottie sinks balls deep into your heat. Despite the warmth, she pierces through like a knife cutting through someone’s skin.

You’ve never been more uncomfortable in your life. You sob, watching as blood trickles down your inner thigh. Lottie chuckles at her work, not bothering to pull back. It hurts so fucking bad. You feel like you’re being split open by Lottie’s penis. You’re in a panicked state, wondering if Lottie’s going to tear you to shreds.

“Your blood makes ideal lube,” Lottie purrs in your ear, her thrusts slow but buried.

“N-No more,” you sniffle. “Lottie, it hurts. Please, pull out. Please, it hurts.”

“Shhhh,” Lottie coos, her cock forcing its entry. “It always hurts for a first timer. I’m sure Melissa was in pain too. You’re being very strong right now, my little breeder.”

Lottie’s told to stop, over and over again. That smile of malice and ownership covers her lips. She’s no longer wilderness grandma who goes around convincing the Yellowjackets to consume shrooms. Lottie’s a fucking queen, a future leader. She’s the child of the forest. She was offered the guiding hand in exchange for authority. Lottie’s a blessing to it and your curse simultaneously.

“Feels so good,” Lottie moans, nibbling on your neck as she rocks your body with her thrusts. “Agh fuck, you feel so fucking good. So tight and wet, shit.”

“Lottie,” you whine your alpha’s name, your pussy still leaking crimson around Lottie’s huge cock.

“That’s it,” Lottie encourages, her hot breath on your collarbone. “Say my name just like that. I know you can take my cock. I know you can handle it.”

The sound of Lottie’s hips bumping against yours makes your skin crawl. Your pussy tightens more around Lottie’s shaft, squeezing it so hard that Lottie might cum too fast. Then she pounds you harder, skin hitting skin like a depraved symphony.

Lottie’s cock caresses you deep, your pussy swallowing her flesh whole. Your head tilts back, sobs and gasps of pain leaving your throat. In return, you get grunts out of Lottie’s mouth. Her hand no longer pins your hands together. She holds you down fully, her body tangled with yours while your face is smothered with rough kisses.

“Yes,” Lottie chants. “God, yes. Fuck, fuck. Take all of me. Take all of me inside of you.”

“Lottie, fuck! I-I can’t-“

“Just let it happen,” Lottie coos. “Let it happen. Let me have you. You were made for this. You were made to be my sweet little cum dump. Your body’s been craving me and my seed.”

Lottie’s ruts grow rapidly in pace. You feel like all the air’s been sucked out of your lungs. Your toes curl as a response to the pricking. The other parts of your body lay stiff, allowing Lottie to consume you until there’s no innocence left.

“I’m gonna cum so hard.” Lottie’s eyes roll back. “Fuck, when I cum inside of that tight little pussy, I’m gonna fill you up for days. You’ll never go without my cum for too long. It’s always gonna be inside of you. Fuck, always!”

“Please, d-don’t cum. Lottie, I can’t get pregnant. P-Please, we’re out here in the middle of freaking nowhere! I-I can’t raise a kid out here.”

“You won’t be alone,” Lottie says. “It’s my child too. I’m gonna be the rightful father. And our child’s going to grow up with such a happy family.”

Lottie leans down to nip you on the nose.

“You’re gonna be such a good parent. Fuck, you’re gonna look so good pumped full of my cum. And when you’ve given birth to our delightful offspring, I’ll fuck you full of cum again. Over and over.”

You can sense that Lottie’s close to spilling. There’s nothing you can do to deter her. You can only lay down and take her cock. You can only hope that the pregnancy will go smoothly. You can only hope that this won’t be enough to create a new life form. Though you know Lottie will try again if no baby is produced this time.

“Such a good little breeder,” Lottie rasps, her cock spasming. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum. Shit, shit. Fuck, I’m gonna cum inside of you baby. Fuck, take it. Take my cum inside of that pretty hole. Shit, shit!”

Before you can protest, a torrent of semen splashes into your womb. Hot ropes of cum shoot inside, stuffing you like a damn turkey. You can barely move. Your world’s been turned upside down. You swear there’s stars floating above you, even though it’s the daytime.

Worst of all, Lottie doesn’t pull out. She ensures that every bit of her cum has been drained before slowly pumping into you again.

“You feel too good,” Lottie pants. “Fuck, I wanna cum in you again. I’m not ready to take you back to the others yet. I just want to fuck you so full. Baby, h-hah….”

You don’t have the energy to argue.

“So good. So fucking good.”

Lottie’s still very much trapped in the heat of the moment. And you are her victim who can’t snap her out of this.

“C-Can’t stop. Need to make sure I give you a baby. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

It isn’t long before Lottie empties herself again. She growls. More of her semen floods your pussy. She falls on top of you, her thrusts lazy and languid. Her kisses are drooly and Lottie’s saliva covers your face.

Even when Lottie’s had two orgasms, her hips won’t stop moving. Her rhythm isn’t as firm as before, but she never wants to pull out of you. Your pussy’s too snug for her. At this rate, the other will have to drag Lottie away from you.

“Good little breeder,” Lottie says dreamily. “Fuck, I knew you’d be just perfect.”

Tears stream down your cheeks. How many more rounds could Lottie possibly go?

[princessbrunette]

conversing with the kook drug dealer wasn’t exactly how you’d expected to spend your time at this party — but here you were, stood outside a locked bathroom door as the party ensues downstairs, waiting for your friend to finish throwing up all of her shots whilst none other than rafe cameron kept you company.

the older boy leans against the wall as you make small talk — his demeanour oddly chill. infact, more chill than you’d seen him before. you were guessing it was more of a weed night than it was coke.

you fix your hoop earring, tilting your head as you stare up at him in intrigue.

“so what do you do, rafe?” you converse sweetly and he inhales, reaching up to scratch behind his head like he was struggling with an answer.

“i told you. deal that yayo. someone’s gotta get the good shit round here—”

“no like what else do you do? for fun?”

rafe stops in his tracks for a moment, a smirk biting at the corner of his mouth at the innocent nature of your question. it wasn’t often someone asked him something like that — so whilst he wasn’t usually a fan of small talk, you were cute, and he couldn’t help but want to entertain the conversation. rafe leans against the wall some more, blowing out air and shaking his head.

“i uh, i’m boring baby i smoke, i deal i make money n’that’s about it. not much to it i’m uh… i’m afraid.”

you get all clammy and adorable over the ‘baby’ nickname, smiling and clasping your hands together like a little doll before he’d even finished talking. “oh okay!” you respond, seeming happy enough with his non-answer, and there’s even a pause — you seeming completely unphased by the gap in conversation as you continue to gaze up at him with giddy smile before the moment is interrupted by the door flying open and your friend bolting out— back towards the party.

your head whips round to watch her, probably about to ask her where on earth she was going — but your wonder is quickly remedied by her yelling out an incoherent confession regarding her heading back to grab more shots.

you let her go, deciding someone will get to her first — before you turn back and watch rafe swagger into the bathroom, quickly checking himself in the mirror before turning his body round to look back at you.

“you wanna… you wanna see how i do it?” he licks his lips, not too sure where this was going — but he knew he wasn’t ready for the interaction to end.

being the easy going person you are, you shrug with a happy smile — following him in and shutting the door. “sure!”

the two of you stand at the sink, and you watch the way the taller cameron boy fishes in his pocket, pulling out a baggie of white powder.

“i thought dealers weren’t supposed to get high on their own supply?” you pout questioningly through the mirror and he lets out a quiet chuckle at the use of the cliche saying.

“yeah uh, they’re not. but i gotta wake the hell up… n’plus i’ve got my hands on some of the best shit this side of the island. would be a crime not to sample my own goods, right?” he drawls as he prepares the line on the white marble, the movements almost second nature to him like he’d done it a bazillion times. you watch in intrigue, tilting your head. “smoked a shit tonne of weed before this so… not sure it’s gonna cancel out that mellow high. we’ll see.” he glances up at you through the mirror, talking in a knowledgable manner, leaving with you but no choice but to nod along in interest. your curiosity always did lead you to odd situations.

you watch as he cuts the powder into a thin line with his credit card before leaning over the sink and snorting it up. in the most nonjudgmental way one could muster, you blink up at him as he draws back, sniffing and wiping his nose like it pained him.

“woo, shit.” he coughs a little, shaking himself off before clearing up the residue and pocketing the baggie, moving around you to wash his hands and push his hair back in the mirror. “your friends don’t do coke?” he chats, seeming a little more amped than before, pupils dilated in his reflection.

“they do. just not around me. i dunno why.” you shrug a shoulder and he chuckles a little harder than necessary at the comment.

“yeah… you’re the innocent one huh?” he turns back to you, and you eye his pocket in interest with a hum.

“maybe i could change that. can i try some?”

surprisingly, rafe winces — wiping his hands on his pants, eyeing you.

“uh… nah, kid. you wouldn’t like it. trust me, shits not good for you.” he walks to the door, opening it and holding it open for you to walk through. you’re quickly distracted by the gentlemanly act and smile, though he mainly did it to get a look at your ass as you walk through. “why don’t you run along n’get another drink though, a’ight? you’ll know where to find me.” he briefly passes a hand over your lower back as he scooches past you in the slim hallway, looking over his shoulder as he heads off to find some clients to sell to.

you pout for a moment, feeling dismissed — but little did you know, rafe had listened to that quiet voice in his head that he usually ignores. the one that told him ‘leave that girl alone.’

[rainerioun]

𝖶𝖧𝖠𝖳 𝖣𝖮𝖤𝖲 𝖸𝖮𝖴𝖱 𝖥𝖴𝖳𝖴𝖱𝖤 𝖲𝖯𝖮𝖴𝖲𝖤 𝖫𝖮𝖮𝖪 𝖫𝖨𝖪𝖤? | 𝗉𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝖺 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖽.

— Hi! Apologies for being a bit inactive lately. Been tied up with stuff, but I'm back with a reading for you all! Today, we'll delve into what your future partner could look like. Remember, just take whatever resonates with you. This reading is more so about what sticks out to you when reading.

ORIGINAL DATE POSTED : APRIL 26TH, 2024.

HOW TO CHOOSE A PILE : The outcome may vary based on whether you receive clear messages visually or intuitively. If you resonate more with selecting a pile visually, trust that inclination. Personally, I believe the notion that 'looks can deceive,' so I prefer to take a deep breath and close my eyes, allowing the pile I'm meant to connect with to come to me. You might see the color of the pile, sense or hear a number, or simply feel its overall vibe.

Please don’t redistribute or edit my content.

MUST READ + MASTERLIST | KO-FI

PILE ONE

Zodiac Dice Roll. — Virgo.

Your future partner likely has an oval face shape with a more narrow jawline and chin, contrasted by prominent cheekbones. They're likely to have a slender physique, though proportionate in any case.

Tarot. — Six of Swords.

They give off a moody or unassuming vibe, seeming as though they don't express much. Yet, they're quite proactive in changing their appearance, whether it's their style, hair, or even their athleticism. However, they'll always maintain that aloof, 'leave me out of it' demeanor.

Additional. Hermit — Light : Seeks solitude to focus intently on inner life. Serves personal creativity. Shadow : Withdraws from society out of fear or negative judgements of others. Refusing to help those in need.  Pioneer — Light : Passion for doing and creating what has not been done before. Shadow : Compulsive need to keep moving on.

As I mentioned earlier, they are constantly undergoing physical changes in some way. They have an introverted and withdrawn aura. They could let their hair grow out and become a bit scruffy before impulsively cutting it off. They maintain a rather deadpan expression when simply existing in their own world. The image of Edward Cullen specifically came to mind when pulling the cards.

Specifics. — Take What Feels Right. High Cheekbones, Heart Shaped Face, Pale Skin, Brown Eyes, Curly Hair, Cat Beauty, Honey Eyes, Thin Eyebrows.

Yes, very vampire allure-esque indeed. Their eyes could appear normally brown but take on a honey-like glow under certain lighting. Their eyes are quite striking, considering they have feline type features. Although hair color didn't come up during the reading, I pictured them with dark hair that complements their skin tone.

Apocalypse : Cigarettes After Sex.

PILE TWO

Zodiac Dice Roll. — Leo.

Of course, they possesses striking hair like a lion's mane—thick, unruly, perhaps even a bit frizzy, something that immediately catches one's eye, possibly long in length. Their eyes are equally intense, matching their strong jawline. They exude a fierce appearance that naturally draws attention, whether they seek it or not.

Tarot. — Four of Wands [Reversed].

Your future spouse might have a more mature-looking face compared to yours or for their age. They appear quite stressed, with heavy eyes and noticeable wrinkles, particularly around their eyes, such as crow's feet and frown lines.

This aspect also reflects in their demeanor. They might carry an air of disappointment, even if they don't necessarily feel that way—it's just a testament to what they've been through. They tend to go for neutrals in their clothing choices, not leaning towards vibrant styles. Despite appearing restless, they naturally possess an attractive charm.

Additional. Mystic — Light : Revels in intimate union with the Divine. Shadow : Delusional rapport with the Divine. 

They have a divine look to their appearance, regardless of their modest and simple attire or styling. There's a hint of mystique about them, but I feel it leans more towards a deity-like appearance rather than a witchy vibe. I imagine your future partner resembling a god/goddess, genuinely embodying timeless beauty.

Specifics. — Take What Feels Right. Below Average Height, Legs, Medium-Length Hair, Prominent Mouth, Broad Nose, Copper hair, Medium Skin.

Your future spouse has a complexion you'd deem as medium-toned. When it comes to their hair, I envision it falling somewhere between medium to long length. Though a single color came out, you could interpret it as having hints of orange or red tones instead. Their mouth is defined by sharp, pointed features, while their nose possesses a broad, perhaps even slightly downturned shape.

Bernadette : IAMX. | Lucky Drive : Sarah Kinsley. | Who Is She? : I Monster. [ I think these songs perfectly describe their vibe. ]

PILE THREE

Zodiac Dice Roll. — Aries.

Your future spouse has distinct/sharp, broad features with thick eyebrows framing their face. Freckles, beauty marks, or subtle scars might adorn their face, too. Their shoulders are broad and sturdy. They could be tinged with red in some way. It could be in their complexion with rosy cheeks, hair, eyes, or they just wear a lot of red. Despite a muscular build, they still have curves, whether it's slim hips and wider thighs or a smaller waist and broader hips.

Tarot. — Three of Wands [Reversed].

It seems they may have a serious RBF, often appearing quite frustrated or impatient. There's a strong and confident demeanor about them. When envisioning their build or expression, I see Rhea Ripley 100%.

Additional. Hero/Heroine — Light : Passion for a journey of personal empowerment. Shadow : Escapism and a false sense of heroism. 

When we typically imagine heroes, we picture them as polished and composed. However, behind the curtain, they bear the marks of their struggles, with visible signs of stress etched into their body. Your future partner will be this way. Peel back their layers, and you'll uncover scars, calluses, and an overall roughness.

Specifics. — Take What Feels Right. Gray Eyes, Hawk Nose, Thick Nose, Scars, Thighs, Neutral Tone, Square Shaped Face, Hands.

What did I say about scars? It popped up three times at this point. Their skin tone has a neutral undertone, not warm or cool. Their nose is large and hooked. And those gray eyes? Unwavering. You could simply like their thighs and hands specifically, or there's something significant about them.

Hey Sexy Lady : Shaggy. | Blood Sweat & Tears : BTS.

PILE FOUR

Zodiac Dice Roll. — Pisces.

Your future spouse has round, soft lips, with dewy skin and eyes shining with tenderness. They have a dreamy aura, perhaps lost in thought at times. Their hair may tend towards the finer side. I envision them as 'dainty' and clumsy.

Tarot. — Four of Wands [Reversed]. | The Star.

The Star card suits them perfectly. They radiate both warmth and serenity, their presence quite calming. This reflects in their appearance, with a lively step and a clear sense of purpose in all they do. They have a whimsical charm, very cute!

Additional. Child : Orphan — Light : Independence based on learning to go at it alone. Conquering fear of surviving. Shadow : Feelings of abandonment that stifle maturation. Seeking inappropriate surrogate families.

In terms of aesthetic, your future spouse has a more colorful style. They appear youthful without seeming childish, dressing without fear and staying true to themselves, free from judgment.

Specifics. — Take What Feels Right. Alternative, Sparse Eyebrows, Long Eyelashes, Waist, Slim, Small Eyes, Green Eyes, Bald, Masculine.

This aligns with what I was getting at. They definitely have an alternative style. Although the energy initially felt 'feminine,' masculine came out. So, I believe this person is deeply connected to both aspects. They might also identify as queer. And while they could actually be bald, I heard in it a joking tone, given their naturally thin hair.

The Shining : The Neighbourhood. | Confidence : Ocean Alley.

PILE FIVE

Zodiac Dice Roll. — Capricorn.

Your future spouse is somewhat lanky but has hidden strength, almost described as lithe. They carry an almost stern and steady gaze, radiating seriousness and maturity. Their bone structure is striking, too. Unlike typical Capricorns, they move with a deliberate slowness, calculated in their actions. They are an alluring person. — I forgot to add that they have nice teeth!

Tarot. — Knight of Pentacles [Reversed].

I picture your future spouse as having a disheveled and unkempt appearance, but in a somehow intentional and controllable manner—it's a bit hard to put into words. Think of someone like Hozier in terms of what I mean. They might give off a slightly lazy energy, dressing in loose-fitting clothes. I don't think they enjoy changing their appearance much and prefer to stick to the same style. I imagine they lean towards neutral or dark colors, something easy on the eyes.

Additional. Messiah — Light : Serving humanity with humility. Shadow : Exaggerated belief that you are the only means through which a cause can succeed. 

This person is confident, fully aware of their own charm. I envision them with darker skin and dark hair. If you're attracted to men, I imagine them having some form of facial hair, perhaps a beard.

Specifics. — Take What Feels Right. Eye Bags, Light Freckles, Prominent Nose, Full Lips, Short Hair, Dark Skin, Olive Skin, Monotone Voice, Puppy-Dog Eyes, Brown Hair.

I think your future spouse aims for that bad boy vibe but doesn't quite nail it. They naturally give off that vibe, but they try a bit too hard to make it obvious. Perhaps they have freckles that become more visible in the summer or are barely noticeable. They aren't very expressive with their voice, but their eyes more than compensate for it, being a bit pouty, too. As for their hair, while I initially pictured it as long, it likely varies based on personal preference since short hair came out. Generally, they have a darker appearance overall.

Beautiful Is Boring : BONES UK. | Judas : Lady Gaga. | Too Sweet : Hozier.

PILE SIX

Zodiac Dice Roll. — Sagittarius.

Your future spouse has a wider face and a welcoming, cheerful demeanor. I see them with a cute button nose, sparkling eyes, and a pretty smile. They are bubbly and curious, with chubby cheeks and a curvier frame. Their expression reminds me of Armin Arlert. AHHH, I LOVE ARMIN! I HAD TO BRING HIM UP. T-T

Tarot. — Ace of swords [Reversed].

This person tends to get easily distracted, often appearing spaced out. Their appearance mirrors their emotions, reflecting whatever they're feeling that day. They're not one to settle on a particular style, constantly changing their look.

Additional. Shape-Shifter — Light : Skill at navigating through different levels of consciousness. Ability to see the potential in everything. Shadow : Projecting any image that serves your personal agenda in the moment. 

Yeah, they seem like a real shape-shifter. Always evolving, whether it's their physical appearance or their mindset. One day they might be all about frills and pastels, and the next they're wearing dark, sleek attire.

Specifics. — Take What Feels Right. Hazel Eyes, Button Nose, Tattoos, Neutral Tone, Fingers, Freckles, Hips, Round Shaped Face, Slim Nose.

It's kind of spooky how tarot readings can be so consistently on point with their messages. Hazel eyes were mentioned, but even if not, they have lighter eyes. They might have tattoos, but I'm not sure of what. You might find yourself drawn to their fingers or hips. I envision them as more heavy-set.

Primadonna : MARINA. | Paris, Texas : Lana Del Rey. | Black Friday : Tom Odell.

[ozarkthedog]

𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

summary: it's been years since Dieter last saw you, his childhood friend and the unrequited love of his life. still, he doesn’t blame you for leaving.

pairing: Dieter Bravo x gn!childhood friend!reader

warnings: angst but with a happy ending! mentions of drug use and alcohol but nothing graphic. w.c: 1.0k

an: for @punkshort AU August writing challenge, I was given the prompt, “childhood friend with Dieter Bravo” thank you so much for hosting! huge thanks to @ghotifishreads for letting me talk your ear off about this little idea that took on a life of it's own and for reading this over. ilu!

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⋅ 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ⋅ 𝐃𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐨 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

Dieter rubs a hand over his face as he steps from the SUV into a throng of flashing lights and frantic screaming. It was the premiere of his first directorial and writing debut; a lot was riding on this.

Sure, he'd won an Oscar and various other award nominations, but this was an entirely different beast. This movie was special to him. It was the first script he wrote after getting "clean." He always scoffed at that word. Clean. Was he pure and holy now simply because he kicked hard drugs to the curb?

He takes a deep, slow breath, adjusts his velvet purple suitcoat, and moves down the red carpet. He autographs cards and pictures, takes selfies, and banters with a few fans before moving on to the press.

It doesn't feel right being here alone, he thinks, his left side feeling raw and exposed like a wound that never healed. 

After rewriting the script several times, he has his assistant mail it to a few studio execs before having them print out one last copy. He wrote down your name and told them to send you the script. He wanted to deliver it to you in person; it felt like the right thing to do, but he couldn't be sure you ever wanted to see him again after what he put you through.

He's stronger these days. Mentally and physically healthier. He's lost a bit of weight now that he's no longer downing pills and chasing them with alcohol. It took him a while to get used to feeling again. Sitting with the uncomfortable thoughts and not letting them take control. He's proud of himself. He thinks you would be, too. 

You.

Seeing a large open field littered with red flowers while driving home from rehab for the second time kicked him square in the gut. Flashes of his youth came back in vivid, blinding colors.

Chasing his dog, Dali, around the yard. Playing with you in the field of wildflowers behind your house. His throat tightens.

You.

You were his reason. The sun he revolved around—inseparable childhood friends.

When you first met Dieter, he was covered in chalk dust, drawing funky, green aliens with big eyes on the sidewalk in front of his childhood home. You'd just moved in next door, and your Mother told you to go make friends. He looked at you in awe as you stood before him, the sun creating a golden crown around your head. "Wanna be friends?" you blurted before kneeling and pestering him about his chalk alien.

From that moment on, you were forever linked. Dieter never wanted anyone else.

From scabbed knees and hide & seek to strange body changes and long school days. Consoling Dieter after he's pushed into a locker, copying each other's homework, watching Dieter shine on the theater stage, and spending almost every minute together that you could.

He wondered if you ever felt the love he held for you—the love that surpassed sibling bonds and grew stronger every time he laid eyes on you. The love that made him self-conscious and shy away from speaking his truth despite years of yearning. He couldn't convince himself to jeopardize the friendship or that you might possibly feel the same.

Cut to Dieter asking you to move to LA with him to be his assistant once his star power steadily rose. 

To the elaborate movie sets and lavish premieres, to the long nights and unspoken feelings. 

To find Dieter on the floor with vomit spilling from his lips to the empty bottles of pills and booze splayed around his Hollywood Hills home. 

The bickering, the raging parties, and the friendship that was slowly dying. 

The shell of a man he used to be. 

You were never around when he needed you the most after he drowned himself in booze and pills. He never blamed you. He was often inebriated, covered in a mess of sweat and other fluids. You could only stand to see him self-medicate for so long. 

"I can't keep doing this," he remembers you saying as tears welled in your eyes and your bottom lip trembled while he sat in a crumpled heap at the foot of his unmade bed with that usual glazed look. "I can't keep trying to save you."

He remembers wanting to argue, to save whatever piece was left. He tried to chase after you, but his brain and body were still under the haze from the night before, limbs heavy as lead weights, and they no longer listened to his commands. 

How your face twisted with a devastating sadness made his heart shatter. He never meant this to happen, for it to get this bad.

Had Dieter known the repercussions, that the last image he'd have of you would be wiping fallen tears that he caused from your cheeks, he would've gotten clean eons before. He would've let this version of himself die without a second thought. He wanted to be the man you counted on, with your best interests at heart. 

The man you knew him to be.

—

Just as he's about to step into the theater, he hears a voice call his name—a voice that would wake him from the dead. 

You.

His heart aches; it bursts with unnerving energy as he watches you approach. His gaze never leaves you as you glide across the room to where he stands, frozen. Could he be hallucinating?

"Hi D," his nickname sounds like heaven as it leaves your lips. He never wants it to end; he wants to hear it forever. "I'm sorry I didn't reach out sooner. I needed to make sure I was in a good headspace to see you again." You nervously wring your fingers, and Dieter can't stop himself from reaching out and locking your hands together, calming your combined anxious energy.

"It's okay," he whispers, throat tight, holding back elated tears, "I'm glad you're here."

A smile tugs at your lips, eyes shiny with your own tears. "Me too."

feel free to scream at me -> 💌

reblogs & comments are extremely appreciated! follow @ozzieslibrary for new fic updates!

[katelynnwrites]

You Kiss Me In A Way (That’s Gonna Screw Me Up Forever) | Sydney Lohmann

warnings: smut so read at your own discretion

word count: 898

summary: sydney's kisses are something else and have screwed you up forever

a/n: smut for syd that nobody has been writing and that nobody has asked for but was the product of my procrastination yesterday so here you are

Sydney’s always been good at kissing you. She gives tender, loving kisses and soft, affectionate ones. She is amazing at delicate good morning kisses and magnificent ‘I’m sorry’ kisses.

The blonde has gifted you with so many of them over the years. From the messy, exploring ones of your childhood to the smooth and confident ones she grants you with today.

You know she’s spoiled you with them.

She is doing it now, languidly letting her lips slant over yours, leaving you breathless and desperately wanting more.

Her fingers slide themselves into your hair and her hips press against yours in the best way possible.

Syd isn’t a patient person by any means, her collection of yellow cards from arguing with referees can attest to that but she has all the time in the world for you.

Your girlfriend’s lips trace a path down your throat and across your collarbones, drawing needy gasps from you.

She smiles against your skin, moving lower down your body and reaching your stomach.

You tense, your muscles going taunt.

The blonde eagerly scatters more kisses on your exposed skin, adjusting herself as she goes.

Syd eventually reaches the waistband of your sleep shorts and she teasingly slips her fingers under it.

‘Sonnenschein please.’ You whimper.

She laughs, placing placating kisses onto the inside of your thighs.

You groan as she sucks little marks into your skin.

‘Sydney…Sydney please.’ You beg.

Your girlfriend hums, tapping your thigh gently in a way that you know means have patience.

Huffing in frustration, you sink further back into your girlfriend’s bed and bring your arms up to cover your eyes.

‘Hey none of that. I want to see your face.’ The midfielder insists.

She lightly tugs your arms down, giving you one of her ‘I’m sorry’ kisses.

When you open your eyes again, it’s to Sydney smirking cockily down at you.

‘Want to see how pretty you look when I make you come.’

You blush bright pink in response.

The Bayern player then follows it up with teasing kisses and reverent touches, eventually giving you what you want and taking both your shorts and underwear off.

She holds your thighs open, hands both firm and gentle.

‘Love you.’ She promises, right before she properly puts her mouth on you.

Any answer that you were formulating is cut off by the sharp, pleasured gasp that spills forth.

Sydney takes her time, switching between licking and kissing.

Kisses pressed against your clit might be your girlfriend’s way of sending you to heaven.

Your breathy moans of the blonde’s name grow in volume and that spurs her on to fully commit to making you come with her tongue alone.

You are not even aware of your hand finding its way down to Sydney’s head and tugging lightly on her hair until she groans right into you.

The vibrations make you whimper and the German woman takes full advantage. She sucks harshly on your clit, relishing in the way your hips jerk upwards immediately.

‘Syd!’ You cry out.

Your girlfriend continues on, her mouth working wonders. Her hands have tightened their grip on your legs, keeping them as still as she can.

‘Feels so good. S-So good.’ You stutter.

If you weren’t so drawn in by the pleasure the blonde is giving you, you would have rolled your eyes at how pleased she looks with herself.

You moan loudly again as her tongue circles your clit.

The midfielder has completely dedicated herself to your climax now, touching your body in a way only she knows how and pushing you over the edge in a way that only she can.

The whimpers and cries that escape you as soon as that happens make Sydney smile. Her name is mixed into those and she loves how wrecked it sounds as it falls from your lips.

Your girlfriend slowly works you through it, licking you lightly and placing a series of gentle kisses onto your cunt as your thighs tremble around her face.

‘Sonnenschein.’ You sigh contentedly when she finally sits up, wiping your juices off her mouth with the back of her hand.

She grins widely, moving to lie down beside you as you catch your breath. Sydney reaches for your hand and intertwines her fingers with yours, bringing your hand up to her lips so that she can place a kiss onto the back of your palm.

That’s another kind of kiss that she loves giving you.

It’s subtle enough that she can do it on the pitch and on team walks so she does so all the time.

Sydney has ruined you with her kisses, properly screwed you up forever with them.

She has the ability to make your heart race, to steal the air right out of your lungs and to comfort you with them.

You’ll never be able to kiss anyone who isn’t her because there is no one who will be able to make you feel the way you do when your girlfriend kisses you.

She makes you feel safe, protected, cherished and loved. So incredibly loved that it’s like you are the only girl in the whole world.

When your chest finally rises and falls evenly, you squeeze the blonde’s hand before moving to straddle her.

Syd’s pretty eyes widen considerably and you giggle.

‘It’s my turn to help you out of your clothes now no?’

German Translation:

sonnenschein - sunshine

[druap]

Hii- I...☝️🥹 um, I don't actually quite know what to say to my idol. But believe me when I say I am absolutely besotted by your art 🫶💐

I actually got introduced to your page via your COD Valentine's Day cards, and have been stalking your account consuming your art like a hungry fella since then.

Did you know: You actually inspired me and my IRL friends to do art? :3 If you don't mind, any tips for self-learning beginners? 📝

And, sorry if this is a whole lot to read—just wanted to let you know that you are such a great artist! And I hope you know that. Great is an understatement, though 🙂‍↕️

omg??? thank you so much qwq it seriously means a lot to me!! <3

a small heads up, i'm not a pro or an art teacher, so these tips are just based on my own experience as a self-taught artist:

just draw. sounds simple, but practice really does make perfect. i always struggle with motivation at the beginning of a drawing, but trust me, the flow state kicks in once you get started

references are your best friend! omg, they make such a difference, especially for bigger pieces or anything you're unsure about

learn from other artists, but don’t just copy. figure out how they do things and put your own spin on it. for me, studying comic artists helped a lot with simplifying anatomy in a way that makes sense (im still learning though xD)

don’t overwhelm yourself! focus on one thing at a time. if you’re doing a composition study, don’t get too caught up in tiny details or textures—focus on the big picture first

listen to your body and mental health. take breaks, stretch, and don’t be afraid to step away for a bit. sometimes a quick walk can clear your mind and recharge you

dont compare yourself to anyone but your past self and if you post stuff/have art blog - dont pay that much attention to likes/reblogs n etc, they dont define you or your art

more under the cut!

i also recommend to check out these: again, dont overwhelm yourself with new information, this section is more of an archive/compilation of where you can find some different stuff

YT channels

Sinix Design - I LOVE HIS TUTORIALS SO MUCH.

Ethan Becker - art tips and critisism

Adam Duff LUCIDPIXUL - honestly i dont really know how to describe his content. it feels like an art podcats but more..personal? just check his channel out and you'll see it for yourself

moderndayjames - more animation based but still a lot of helpful tutorials

Dan Beardshaw - found him through anatomy tutorials but he has A LOT MORE than just them, please check him out!!

Videos

this specific video helped me understand that light is not that complicated

in this video, the author shares how they learned art, and i think they nailed the 4th tip perfectly

another lighting video

part 1 of a "how to splash art" series which goes over almost everything you need to know. this series more of a guide cause you still need to go into a depth for each topic but i just have to share it anyways, other parts can be found in the description

Books / Libraries (google drive links)

anatomy for sculptors - helps a lot with anatomy simplification and understanding

a big library with art books and other resources

another library with some books

MORPHO BOOKS!!!

Constructive anatomy by George B.Bradgman

lmk if something doesnt work or you have something else to add!! :]

[thollandneedy]

The homecoming trick- Peter Parker

A/n: I took the inspo from a "Never been kissed" scene.

Warnings: Language

Summary: Peter comforts you after you get tricked by the popular guy from school.

Don’t forget to share, like, comment and leave your ideas here

Bellah’s Masterlist 🪻

Running footsteps could be heard from the empty corridor where Y/n was hurrying to find his best friend, Peter Parker. Looking quickly through the small rectangular windows of the classrooms, she finally found the room she was looking for, opening the door without worrying about the people in the class. The girl caused a bang, causing all the students sitting around the chemistry table to withdraw their attention from the teacher and turn to Y/n. 

“PETER PARKER. YOU DON'T KNOW WHO ASKED ME TO THE HOMECOMING DANCE!” Y/n almost shouts, causing the brunette to blush as he realizes that the prying eyes have turned their attention to him.

“Miss L/N!” The middle-aged teacher who was teaching the class calls out to the girl, who straightens her posture while biting her lower lip, realizing that she had made a mistake by shouting into the classroom.

“Sorry.” The girl says quietly. “Peter?”

The brunette stands up promptly, removing his transparent goggles and positioning them under the massive stone desk. Parker asks his teacher for silent permission, who only answers him by rolling her eyes and looking down. Leaving the room to find her best friend, the door closes behind the pair and Y/n is able to express her happiness without being judged for her outbursts. 

“Who asked you to the dance to make you act like that? Harry Styles?” Peter asks, drawing a laugh from the younger girl.

“You know I've emailed him several times, but he always ignores me.” Y/n replied, crossing her arms. “Cody Taylor” The girl breaks into a huge grin, jumping up and down with joy that almost causes Peter to overbalance and fall against the chain of blue lockers positioned on the walls of the little-trafficked corridors. 

“Ah... Cody”

Peter hated Cody Taylor, and he had a reason. It wasn't because he was popular, and therefore extremely popular, but because he didn't have a good feeling about the boy with the light brown eyes and wavy blond hair. Cody had a bad reputation with girls, and some might even say that he just uses girls to “get what he wants”, and then disappears off the map pretending that he never met the person he got involved with. Even so, he attracted rivers of girls who would even give their souls so that he could have a day with this Cody Taylor. 

“You don't seem excited.” Y/n tilts his head to the side, frowning as he realizes the frustration in Peter's voice.

“Y/n, I-” Peter tries to say, but is cut off by his best friend.

“I got a letter with his name on it, but I thought it was a bad prank. When I was going out for lunch, he called me over and said he'd had his eye on me for ages, but I'd never noticed him. So he asked me out at the last minute. Isn't that great?” The girl nods as she remembers the previous events with Cody, looking away and thinking back to the boy's voice calling her to the dance. 

Peter stays silent, pulling Y/n back to reality.

“I don't like Cody, Y/n. In fact, I've never liked him, and that's nothing new. You know about his fame.” Peter crosses his arms, looking down at his own feet. 

“Welllll, but you like me. Then you should be happy.” The girl tries to reverse the boy's thinking.

Let's put the cards on the table 

Y/n wasn't the type of girl that Cody Taylor was interested in. Whenever he showed up with a new girl, she was wearing short clothes and big necklines, even though the school didn't allow it. They were sexy women, who could attract a man by their body and their manipulative eyes, while their manner was petty and extremely needy of attention from other men who could fuck her with their eyes. Y/n was part of the book club on Wednesday afternoons; she had a limited group of friends; she always wore colorful socks with characters on them and she didn't like being the center of attention. 

For Peter, she was perfect

Y/n didn't let school influence her to be sexier or more mature than she needed to be, and that's what made her stand out among all the girls who once stayed with Cody.

But Peter would never admit that to her.

At least not when he was competing against the most desirable boy of the last year.

“And you accepted?” Peter asks, even though he already knows the answer.

“Of course I did!” Y/n says excitedly.

“Well, then it's a deal.” Peter nods, continuing with his arms crossed. 

“What about you? Have you called Liz yet?” The girl puts one of her hands on the teenager's arm, who undoes his posture looking for the right words to lie.

Liz Allen had rejected Peter, and he had no one to go to the dance with except Y/n, who now had an unexpected date. However, it was no surprise that she would reject him, since he had never had a gallant enough track record to get a girl to agree to go to the dance with him. Once again, he was going to sell his ticket and feign a mysterious illness the day before the event.

“She said she already had a date, but if she didn't, she'd go with me.” Peter lies.

It was much nicer to say something like that, than to repeat: “Not even if you made a pig speak my full name and shit out a golden invitation, would I go to the prom with you.”

“I'm sorry, love.” The girl took pity on her best friend, then slowly approached him until she was around him in a loving embrace. “Tell me a color. Any color. I want you to choose what I'm going to wear to the ball. So that you can take part in it even a little bit.” The girl asks, drawing a silly laugh from the brunette.

“Y/n...” Peter tries to say, but is cut off by a hand that flies to his mouth, preventing him from saying anything.

“Just say it.” The girl asks insistently.

“Green. You look beautiful in green. Especially dark green, like that dress you wore to May's brunch last year.” Peter recalls the dress his best friend was wearing for his aunt's birthday.

That day, Peter was sure that Y/n wasn't just a friend. Parker sketched the girl's body with his eyes, making his heart beat faster than usual and his throat go dry as he noticed her toned legs. He had always known that he liked Y/n, but after a lot of research with his friend Google and his friend Buzzfeed quiz, what he felt could have been a lack of affection for the loss of his parents. For weeks he tried to deny his feelings, telling himself that he was lying to himself and that his friendship couldn't be ruined by a desire he didn't even know was mutual. 

“Do you remember me from that day?” Y/n shrugs at his friend's comment.

“I do. It was when you started to like wearing dresses more, and you bought this one after I told you it would look perfect on you.” Peter comments, causing the girl to smile without showing her teeth.

“Liz is an idiot not to go with you to the dance, you know that, don't you?” Y/n tries to cheer Peter up, causing the boy to smile sideways as he agrees with the girl in front of him who was wearing a gray sweatshirt and ripped jeans. 

“I like to believe so.” Peter looked away from the teacher who was calling to him through the window, asking him to return to class with only a reproachful look for spending too long outside the classroom. “I need to get back to class, but will you wait for me so I can take you home? My lesson finishes at 4pm.”

“Sure. I'll stay in the library.” The girl replies, and then Peter reaches out for the door handle. “Wait!”

“What?” Peter throws his head back, pretending to be annoyed by Y/n's presence.

“I love you, Peter. Cody will never take me away from you, as much as I'd like him to.” Y/n touches the student's strong muscle, making both their hearts race at the subtle but tender contact. 

They both blush, and Y/n quickly removes his hand and puts it in the pocket of his jeans. 

“I love you too, Y/n.” Peter smiles blushing, silently says goodbye to Y/n and enters the classroom again. 

(...)

The pink speaker was positioned on top of Y/n's bedspread, playing “Drunk in Love” at high volume. Y/n was sitting next to the speaker, hunched over so that she could reach the strap of her silver high-heeled shoes, which she would be wearing tonight. The week had passed quickly since the day Cody had asked her to the dance, even after Peter had sent her countless hints that she shouldn't go to the dance with a boy with such a reputation. As much as she knew it, her need for a teenage movie experience was greater than her rationality. Just as Parker tried his best to blur Y/n's mind of the unrealistic and sexual wonders that Cody could offer, she tried to take him to the dance as an extra chaperone. 

The sound of a knock on the door was heard, and Y/n stood up promptly, quickly turning down the music. Fixing her loose hair in a curling iron, the girl looks at herself in the dressing table mirror, searching for any lint that might be out of place. Her mother's voice says loudly:

“Ah, Peter! You look great.”

The door closes and she hears heavy footsteps coming towards her room. The brunette opens the door slowly, as if asking before entering, but without words. A part of his face is seen by Y/n, who laughs at the boy's action, saying:

“You can come in, Peter. I'm not without clothes.” The girl says, picking up her cell phone to locate the car in which Cody will pick her up in a few minutes.

As soon as her eyes wandered away from the cell phone screen, her stomach seemed to drop like when she was on a roller coaster. There was Peter, wearing a black tuxedo and a green striped tie to match Y/n's dress, which covered her breasts with a corset decorated with flowers in the same dark shade, while the skirt descended between several layers of silk fabric. The girl gave a slow smile, moving towards the boy who seemed at a loss for words at the sight of Y/n dressed like a princess.

“Yeah, Parker... You don't look half bad.” The girl approached him, placing one of her hands on his tie and stroking the fabric with her fingertips.

“You look great.” Peter smiles, making Y/n look away in a nervous smile. “If I hadn't agreed to go, I would never have seen you like this. Apart from the many photos I know you'll be taking to post on Instagram later,” he comments.

“You look really great, Peter.” Y/n says again in a sweet voice. “I've never seen you like this before.”

“Do you like it? When I become rich, I'll make a point of only wearing a tuxedo to please you.” Peter tries to charm him, only to receive a low chuckle.

The weather seems to be getting hotter than usual, as if something is descending into the air and making it hotter, even though it's not summer to feel such heat. The sound of a loud horn interrupts the gazes fixed on each other, causing the couple to move away quickly and Y/n to run for the front door, while Peter grabs the bag hanging from the chair on the girl's dressing table, then rushes after the girl. 

The black car stops in Y/n's driveway, and then Cody Taylor gets out of the car. Peter grimaces as he notices the visible ego of the boy, who didn't seem to care about the brunette's opinion. Cody adjusts his light gray blazer, allowing room for the car door to swing open, hinting that Y/n could say goodbye to get into the vehicle. The blond smiles without showing his teeth, and before Y/n can do anything, the boy stops her from speaking:

“Sorry I'm late. I had to stop by the market to pick up a few things.” Cody says with a satisfied smile.

Two more girls and a man come out of the vehicle. They're all dressed as if they were in a gang looking for a victim to torment. Y/n frowns in doubt, turning his head away when he notices that there are more people than expected. Those girls and that boy were part of the little group that hung out with Cody in the corridors and threw huge parties for the children, whom they thought were enough to sit with him. Peter put his hand on Y/n's shoulder, realizing that something was wrong.

“I thought we were going alone.” Y/n says, causing Cody's girls to laugh quietly.

“We? No, Y/n. There is no we.” Taylor gets into the car again, as the boy in the red tie pulls his cell phone out of his pocket to record, while the girls pull out open egg cartons from behind their hands, which turned out to be used as weapons against the girl in the green dress. 

The eggshells broke easily against Peter's chest, who stepped in front of Y/n to protect her from the thrown eggs, but his chest burned when he realized that only he was being soiled by the yellowish yolks. Y/n positioned herself next to Peter, feeling the hard shell break on her chest and her newly rented dress. Thinking it was over, the same boy who had recorded the scene pulled out a packet of wheat flour from behind him, which was thrown at the couple standing in front of the entrance to Y/n's house. As soon as the box was empty, Cody's friends got into the car, the door slamming shut quickly and the sound of screeching tires screeching against the asphalt as they decided to flee their cowardly act. 

Peter looked at Y/n, dirty with eggs and wheat flour. Her eyes shone and her mascara ran down in the shape of a black drop. The girl took a deep breath, straightening her hair and removing the small white pieces from her dress. 

“You were right.” Y/n mutters quietly, taking a deep breath to stop herself from bursting into embarrassed tears in front of Peter. “Cody is pathetic.” His jaw clenches.

“Y/n...” Peter put one of his hands on Y/n's dirty cheek, pulling her into a warm embrace.

The crying was low, but Peter could hear the sound of her heart breaking into pieces. The boy ran his hand through his best friend's hair, trying to make sure that their bodies made as much contact as possible through a gesture of care. Peter looked at the horizon, still able to see Cody's car driving away. As much as he thought about chasing after it to get revenge, Y/n needed someone right now. The girl's chest heaved as she coughed between loud cries of pain. 

“Let's go in.” Peter said into her ear, kissing her forehead afterwards. 

“I don't want my mother to see me like this.” She said through heavy tears.

“Let's go around the back then. Up the tree that leads to your bedroom window.” Peter holds her hand gently, trying to guide her somewhere that isn't soiled with the remains of her shame. 

(...)

Y/n lay with her head on Peter's outstretched arm, who lay behind her stroking her hair. The brunette replayed the scene several times in his mind, planning future revenge in whatever form, but one thing was certain, Cody Taylor would regret it. Over the younger woman's shoulder, the brunette could see that she was watching several stories of her friends at the party with drinks in their hands. Y/n wasn't going to admit that she felt pathetic for being carried away by her silly desires to go to the dance with a popular guy. On the other hand, she didn't feel sad about the situation itself, but about having embarrassed herself and probably becoming a walking meme when the video was leaked. The smell of shampoo was present in both of their wet hair, but even the clear smell couldn't cover up the egg smell.

“Watching videos of them won't help, darling.” Peter said in a low voice, causing Y/n to snort low.

The light from the television shone against the faces of the teenagers lying on Y/n's bed. Fortunately, Y/n's parents thought they had already gone to the dance and left the house alone a few minutes after Peter and his best friend went up to the girl's room. Everything was dark, but the heavy atmosphere between the two was clear. Y/n put her cell phone face down and tried to focus on the Star Wars episode on television. Peter's tuxedo and Y/n's dress were placed in a large bag in front of Y/n's bed so that they wouldn't forget to take it out to wash during the week. After much insistence, Peter had finally persuaded her to watch the third one in an attempt to distract her with the thousand and one facts he told her about the movie for more than half an hour. 

The girl in the cherry-print pyjamas turns to Peter after picking up the remote control and turning off the television. Y/n stares at him with watery eyes, and allows her head to rest in the passage between his shoulder and neck, as if it were a place of safety. Peter hugged her, closing his eyes and thinking of what he could say to cheer up his friend in some way. His head was screaming for him to be able to confess the way he felt, exposing that he would never put her through anything like this if he were hers. 

“I feel terrible.” Y/n proclaimed.

“At least we have enough eggs to make an eggnog.” Peter says comically, failing to get a smile out of Y/n. 

“I'm not sad. But it's like I've been exposed. My innermost and most genuine feelings have been trampled on and pushed aside as if I'm not human enough to feel anything.” Y/n cringes. “Have you ever felt that?”

Peter denies silently

“It sucks.” Y/n says at last.

Silence

“Too bad you couldn't take a picture in the dress.” Peter says quietly, remembering the many times during the week that his friend had commented on the many beautiful photos she would take when she arrived at the ball.

“I did, but you hadn't arrived yet so we could take one together.” Y/n says, feeling her knees touch his.

Silence

“Cody's just another rich piece of shit who got into school because his dad is friends with the principal and he wants to get into an Ivy on a sports scholarship. He's dumber than a door, so don't think he won't end up falling after all this. It will take time, but it will happen. And it's going to be beautiful.” Peter says as if there's poison in his words. 

“I'm dumber than a door. I shouldn't have let my illusion cross the line.” Y/n says, moving a little away from the brunette who was staring at her, deep into her eyes. “You have beautiful eyes. They've always reminded me of those little chocolate balls in cookies.”

“I think that's hunger.” Peter laughs quietly. “Are you okay? I mean, fuck. I'm sorry. Of course, you're not okay.” The brunette in the gray shirt and striped pants closes his eyes tightly, placing one of his hands on his forehead as he says it.

“It's okay, Peter.” Y/n's voice was soft, but faint because of the involuntary tears that ran down her makeup-free skin. “We're still in the first year. Worse things will probably happen.” The girl shrugged, even though her spirit was still sick with shame. 

Peter nodded, looking away for a few seconds and carefully picking up the words he was going to say to his weakened friend.

“How well are you coping?”

“You taught me. That day at May's brunch. When my aunt died and I just told you at the end of the day, and you told me that I would never be strong enough to cope with everything in life, so if one day I was about to break down, let me remember that everything can be fixed. My aunt wouldn't come back from the dead, but I know she wouldn't want to see me in a bad way.” Y/n comments. “I know I'm in a bad way, but if I think I'm going to be okay, I'll heal faster. Positive psychology, huh?”

Parker smiles without showing his teeth, silently agreeing. A warm feeling embraces his chest, making the air less heavy than it was. The sound of the wind beating against the window and the leaves of the trees rustling against each other was what made the silence soothing. For a moment, everything felt like a peaceful sea, where the moon was present and commanded the slow waves. They both felt connected to each other, but the commotion wasn't usual, but a line of various emotions that curled into a tangle of desires. Their breaths seemed to be merging slowly, and neither side intended to move away. 

“I got jealous.” Y/n confessed quietly. “When you asked Liz to the dance instead of me that week before Cody asked me.”

“What?” Peter makes a confused face, not understanding why she would be jealous of him, sitting back against the pillows of Y/n's bed.

“Last year we went together, and then Liz joined the school. You only talked about her, so I got busy obsessing over someone else too so it would hurt less that I wanted to go out with you, but you were immersed in the Liz Allen world.” The girl sat down next to Peter, allowing their shoulders to touch briefly as they spoke to each other.

“Shut up,” Peter replied, disbelieving what he was hearing. ”Why didn't you tell me this before?”

“Maybe because you spent hours talking about how beautiful her skirt looked on her body, or how you'd sell your collection of Legos to get a sexy compliment from her.” Y/n recalls Peter's words.

“Okay! I exaggerated about the legos, but all that was platonic.” Peter defends himself. “I didn't want to call you because I didn't want to seem weird, especially because...” The dark-haired man tries to say, but loses his words in the middle, noticing that he was about to say something considered his personal secret.

His face reddens, and even if he tried to tell Y/n so that she would forget what he was about to say, she wouldn't. The pyjama-clad girl sat down in front of Peter, crossing her feet and projecting her posture forward in an attempt to listen carefully to what he had to say. Peter nodded, looking at nothing and turning his attention to the girl in front of him, who was staring at him expectantly.

“I like you too, Peter.” Y/n proclaimed before the brunette could say anything.

His eyes sparkle, and his mouth goes dry.

“D-do you?”

“I do. Do you?” Y/n asked fearfully, thinking that perhaps she had misunderstood the teenager's signals.

“I do”

“Why did you talk about Liz then?” Y/n bites her lower lip as she asks.

“Why didn't you ever give me any signs that you liked me back? You always hugged me and kissed me, but I never felt it was anything more than friendship, also because you do it with all your friends. You don't show it when you like someone, apart from when you said it about Cody Shitty. You're an enigma, and that's very attractive. Apart from the fact that you're the person I trust most in the world, even though you have terrible taste in socks.” Peter confesses, playing with his fingers as he says it.

“Peter...” Y/n touches his striped pants-covered leg, sliding his hand up the inside of his thigh.

Parker's chest juts forward, gently grasping the back of Y/n's neck as he moves in for a kiss. Their moist lips complete each other, pulling their bodies together as if they were magnets lost long ago after failing to connect with each other. Y/n's breasts are pressed against Parker's strong chest, at the same moment that the girl climbs onto the boy's lap, releasing the weight of the feeling she was carrying with her to deposit it in synchronous movements with his lap. The brunette placed one of his hands on the girl's waist, guiding her sloppy movements as the kiss continued to escalate.

Their tongues wore each other out, seeming as if they had known each other for ages. The fit was perfect, and the movement of their mouths had the same hot desire for more. Their chests shared the same heart rate because of the excitement. Their movements became faster, and their clothes seemed to jump from their bodies to the floor without even touching them. In the midst of kisses down their necks, the sound of a key banging against the front door was heard, causing the couple to move away in fright.

“My parents are back”

“At least they don't know we're here.” Peter says low with his body paralyzed on top of Y/n.

“Y/n and Peter. Can you come down here please?” Y/n's mother's voice echoes loudly.

“How the fuck does she know we're here?” Peter says in desperation.

“Sixth sense. All mothers have them. You may be Spider-Man, but she knows a lot more than you do.” Y/n gets up quickly, looking for her blouse lying on the floor.

“How do you know I’m...” Peter puts on his rolled-up gray shirt

“Peter. You don't know how to hide secrets.” Y/n laughs, opening the door next to Peter and closing it behind him. 

[the-one-who-lambs]

"Propose," for @bamsara

HI YOUR DOODLES INSPIRED ME HERE'S A POETRY ATTACK. rambling below the cut.

At first, the death waltz is a misstep.

A sickening skeletal crack, a shape of an invisible scythe.

Sincerity is too kind a lie, but His sacrosanct

Protection (you think)

Lets you rise once more.

Death cannot keep you, but you would let Him

If he welcomes you.

You only believe what He thinks you should know.

The flames engulf you after the smoke does,

But your soul has nearly shed its corpse when you see them.

You stand in the vast chain-bound sanctuary and breathe

Fully (your lungs don’t remember being choked).

It is the first of a fitful of

Scorn and surprises and bone fingertips pressed against your skin.

He helps you to your feet.

Your heart should not beat here. In the infiniteness of your bosom it awakens.

The very semblance of the jagged-bare flesh

Encircling your neck is an intimacy in itself.

The blissful torment of the swordsman’s blade

Releases (so close to peril)

And He is already in your periphery.

Call it duty. Call it love.

Choose it as the last decision you’ll ever make.

Fate’s a tarot pull. You draw your card with eyes sealed shut.

You are a disgraced, depraved approximation of a person.

The chill of his embrace is warmer than the hands

That build the bonfire. It is in the name of

Someone (you shan’t say who)

And in the ashes of your grief your reflection

Stares back with three eyes.

The temptation to burn yourself seeps out,

Ichor-like. You don’t die tonight, not yet.

A careful drip of poison. The aftertaste of iron

In your mouth: communion seeping into your own goblet.

A moonshine moment of annihilation, however brief

Before (infectious, echoing, comforting)

You bleed out. You hope you die today.

He hopes you die today. It’s an

Ambrosial veil between you.

You slip beneath it with a sweet hello.

It’s never quite intentional until

The myths surrounding Him fall away.

The secrets you keep are shared, kept safe

Until (your reunion, this time, was not quite an accident)

They are intertwined: you are inescapably

Lonely and in your separate spheres

You vie for dominance. It’s a furious, bloodsoaked rendezvous.

It was always He who waited, but you’ll be patient.

He feels you in every dream. You

Stop time with your voices.

It’s His frustration melting away

With your kisses (you’re not there yet)

And makes Him yours, in freedom,

Dependent on nothing nobody you himself

The fetters are invisible but you hear them

Rattling every time your heart beats.

Your breath need not return anymore so you

Relearn to dodge the aim of an arrow, the pierce of a blade.

Living is foul, a promise half-hidden,

Desperate. (It lingers on your tongue.)

Death bound you together. You know how to die.

You have to remind yourself that heaven lays barren.

It will not hold you

Should Death keep you apart.

Get appreciated idiot /pos /lh

So, this was inspired by this post, which was super wholesome and sweet, but I couldn't write this without infusing it with the urgency and anxiety and sense of danger that looms over The Rehabilitation of Death. Bits and pieces of references to your AU are sprinkled in throughout. I hope you (and my readers and your readers as well) enjoy picking apart the themes here!

I actually wrote this live on stream last night! I made sure none of my friends were streaming before I started because I didn't want to miss anyone if someone was already live, but then you started streaming like 10 minutes later and I was like FUCK now I wanna watch you. But after a couple of hours on my new extra-hard CotL save (OUCH), I switched to writing and just... hoped you wouldn't pop in because I wanted this to be a surprise. For most of the writing part of the stream this poem was titled "IF SARA STOPS STREAMING SEND ME A WARNING."

Anyway, we don't usually get to talk more than a couple times per week because we both have Shit To Do, but you are SO FUN to be around and I am so so glad I met you!! Your friendship is a blessing and your creativity is a gift.

Also posted to AO3 as onethirdofimpossible here!

[ceasarslegion]

By the wishes of a few people, here's my advice post about living alone. Keep in mind I'm speaking from the perspective of a canadian urbanite, so this will not apply to absolutely everybody in every kind of culture, economy, living situation, those in rural areas, etc. This also is not assuming wealth disparities are a matter of personal attitude, i KNOW it's complicated. Get back with that shit right now, you know damn well this advice assumes you are able to achieve the financial means to live on your own and is not disparaging anyone who legitimately can't.

Let's cover the basics first.

Source of income:

This seems rather obvious, but your income should be regular and reliably the same or similar on a monthly basis. The most obvious way to achieve this is with a job, and I'm sorry but minimum wage is not going to cut it on your own anymore, which means you're going to have to swallow your pride and accept that you'll likely have to work for some industry or corporation with a dodgy moral record. Get used to it. There is no point in self-flagellation, the world is complicated, just take the 50-60k a year office job, no one actually expects you not to and nobody will hold it against you when the "moral" option is soul-crushing retail. The real world really doesn't give a shit what you have to do to afford a comfortable lifestyle as long as you do what good you can within your abilities, no one in the real world expects you to sacrifice your own wellbeing for a cause.

Salaried positions are your most reliable because you'll always pull the same amount, while hourly pay comes with the ability to pull overtime pay in exchange for more shifts, but if you run out of sick days you'll have to spend the rest of the year taking unpaid time off when you need to call in. Whichever one you choose depends on what's available to you and what's right for you physically and mentally, I can't make that call for you.

You also need a credit card. That is non-negotiable. If you don't have a credit score, you can't sign a lease. Bad credit is better than no credit. We can argue until the cows come home whether or not credit scores are good or bad, but it's just reality that you're going to need one. The good news is it's fairly easy to build credit from no credit: you just have to pay off your credit card in full on time every time. The bad news is it's equally as easy to tank your credit score, you just have to miss one or pay it too late, and it's very hard to build good credit back from bad credit. So don't see it as free money, only spend as much as you can pay back, and if you don't have credit right now, start with small things like lunch and little treats that you immediately pay off.

Looking for a place to live:

Once you have your regular and reliable source of income, you can start looking for your place. There's a few things you should keep in mind:

-Draw up a budget for how much you can spend on rent and bills. That includes all basic living expenses: rent, utilities, food, internet, phone, hygiene. Compare how much you make per month to what you can spend. 1/3 to 1/2 of your salary is a bit more realistic to expect to spend on rent alone nowadays, so work within that range when you apartment hunt. Think of everything when you're budgeting, like how much do you spend on haircuts per month? You probably didn't think of that, because I didn't either at first.

-Apartment buildings with some/all utilities included often have higher base rents. You have to keep in mind that this is so the landlord can balance out the utility bills of the whole building, which are unpredictable expenses and on them to pay every month. If you don't know how to budget yet or don't know how to do so with unpredictable bills, I highly recommend trying to find a place with utilities included so you know EXACTLY how much you'll need to pay every month and can plan in advance

-Older buildings tend to be both cheaper and more likely to have centralized utility systems, which means they have to include it in the price of rent because there's no way to tell who used how much of something. If it's your first place alone, you'll probably be tempted to get the brand new, expensive building down the road, but it won't actually make much of a difference when you move in. You will love it regardless.

-Never ever sign a lease until you've either seen THE unit you're considering, or one of the show units that is exactly the same layout. The last thing you want is to go off online photos only to move in and find out the building has a mold problem. You can arrange personal tours by contacting the building manager or the landlord directly. Phone calls are the best way to do this.

-If you want the unit after seeing it, you know you can afford it, there's nothing funny about the place, apply IMMEDIATELY. Places are usually on the market for a few days before they're snapped up by a new tenant, you have to strike while the iron's hot.

-If you've decided on the place you want and had your application accepted, read the lease carefully before you sign. Many places require tenant insurance that meet specific policy requirements, have registration rules about long-term guests, outline how the parking works, quiet hours, smoking rules, mail, laundry, all the way down to what kind of barbecues are allowed on your deck in the case of mine (I am in a wildfire danger zone, so any types that produce embers are strictly prohibited for fire safety reasons). Ask any question that comes to mind about the lease. Not everything in a lease is some human rights violation just because you don't like landlords, keep in mind you're living in the same building as dozens of other people, so there has to be ground rules established for everyone's sanity.

-Internet is often not considered a utility so you'll have a hard time finding any place that includes it. You can arrange to have your wifi set up in advance of a moving date on a specific time and date, do this right after you sign a lease so you don't forget. They won't charge you until you're actually hooked up to the network.

-If your utilities are NOT included, get those set up in advance too. The main ones are HVAC, water, and electricity. The companies that do this vary depending on where you live and what's available, so shop around online once you've signed your lease and sign up as soon as possible. The last thing you want is to forget this and then move into a dark freezing apartment with no water.

Budgeting:

After your living expenses are covered, you should have a comfortable amount of financial wiggle room leftover. If you wouldn't, the place you're looking at is either too expensive, or you're being overcharged elsewhere. It's completely normal for living expenses to take up most of your budget these days, you're doing just fine in the same boat as everybody else if that's the case, so don't panic yet. If you have absolutely NOTHING leftover though, then you're out of your price range.

You also need to set money aside for fun and saving. Do not forego fun money, your brain will try to kill you with hammers and knives if you never get or do things for yourself. And if you're on your own, you're the only one providing that for yourself now. And a solid building base of savings will only help you in the future, whether you lose your job, have an emergency, or even need a down payment on a house later in life. Don't be a doomer about your circumstances or the socioeconomic and generational cards that were dealt to you, chip away at it a little at a time. And don't fall for social media's insistence that anybody with anything at all is some bourgeois degenerate or that being fortunate enough to be able to have upward mobility makes you some ultra wealthy shithead, working towards a comfortable standard of living for yourself does not make you a rich elite or a bad person. You're working towards the standard we should all live as, not exploiting the poor or being a class traitor. I feel the need to add that last part since we're on the website of "struggling art students in NYC are bourgeois that are just bad with money and having a gaming computer makes you upper middle class." Don't listen to a word any of those people say, I know it comes from a place of very real hurt and pain for them but that doesn't make it grounded in absolute reality for absolutely everybody.

Social needs:

If you're by yourself, there's gonna be a lot more work you have to put in for your social and entertainment needs. I can not stress enough how important it is to give this the time and work it needs, do not neglect this.

Lots of libraries have clubs you can join that will get you out of the house and meeting new people regularly. They're either free or very inexpensive. This is a great place to start.

Take advantage of technology we have now. Hop on discord calls more frequently, make sure you're talking to your friends on the regular and try to make plans as much as you can.

Also, I advise finding lots of things you can do by yourself. You will be spending way more time alone than you ever have before, so find single-person hobbies. Go thrifting, get into knitting, go explore the city, read lots of books, do puzzles, just don't lock yourself inside all day in your free time. Even if you're doing it alone, going out and seeing that the world is bigger than your apartment and your workplace is very good for you.

Misc advice:

You don't need a conventional coffee pot maker. Single serving will suit you just fine.

Cleaning is easier when you have a routine. It doesn't all have to be done on the same day of the week, but having a regular schedule of what gets cleaned when for non-daily chores will help you keep on top of it. And please, god, don't neglect your cleaning and hygiene just because no one lives with you to see it. On that note, spray bottle all purpose cleaners are your best friend for daily spot cleaning and you should deep clean your washroom around every 2 weeks in my experience since that's where you'll be doing most of your personal hygiene. Also make your damn bed, yes you'll just get back into it at the end of the day but having a major part of your space neat and tidy will do wonders for your mental health.

Don't buy the cheap garbage bags. Some things you really do want the expensive shit for.

If you don't have a car, delivery service/rideshare subscriptions ARE worth it and legitimately economical in the long run. I do wanna circle back to square one and say that yes, most of them like prime and uber do have dodgy moral records, but sometimes you just gotta swallow your pride and accept that. Once again, no one in the real world expects you to spend your entire day on public transit looking for toilet paper that isnt 30 dollars a pack or lugging 50 pounds of groceries back on a bus just for a cause. It's not the fault of someone who needs these services for their quality of life that they do the things they do, don't put that responsibility on your or other's shoulders when the fault lies at the top of the corporate ladder.

When you're budgeting for living expenses, expect your income to be at the lowest and your expenses to be at the highest. I expect 2 call ins per month and to need to spend the max amount i have on groceries every time, that way I never fall short and never have to cut into my savings that I've dubbed my "oh shit, I'm broke" money. Your emergency reserve may look tempting to you, but as someone who has been in a position where they had to drain it to nothing in the past because of an unforeseen financial emergency, you REALLY are gonna want that untouched if and when shit hits the fan. Life is unpredictable, prepare to roll with the punches so they don't knock you out.

A few people wanted to be tagged in this, so here you go @lilsnatch and @kisstheashes <3

[am3li420]

Remus Lupin head canons i’ve been collecting for 10+ years

- this hoe loves books, i know that’s a common head canon but let me dive deeper;

- he definitely is checking out matilda level amounts of books from the library every week before going to hogwarts.

- homeschooled by his mother 100% and she would make him write book reports so he learned to love annotating books

- cut to lily seeing him writing in a book in 1st year and being absolutely disgusted but eager to make friends so she asks him his favorite books and authors.

- remus goes on like an hour long tangent about tolkien and c.s. lewis and how much he loves fantasy and how he’s so excited he gets to be at hogwarts because it’s so close to his escape from his lycanthropy as a child.

- lily tells him all about literature and they start a book club right then and there.

- remus also studied piano from his mom as well, and then eventually when she couldn’t teach him anymore his parents saved up to pay for a teacher.

- he loves his piano teacher and over summer breaks goes back and takes lessons

- bonds with sirius because of this as sirius had to learn violin to become a “well rounded heir”. they play duet covers as entertainment for gryffindor parties and everyone fucking loves it.

- eventually mary joins in and plays guitar and they have a cute little peter paul and mary vibe going on.

- remus is so outspoken, and truly always the first to be informed on politics or news

- was very forthcoming on his views about the war, along with james and sirius. i believe remus was the most “radical” of them though, and wanted freedom/ equality for all creatures not just wizards.

- he also felt unease at the ministry and wanted systematic changes as well as wanting to fight against voldemort.

- extremely distrustful of dumbledoor towards the end of the war, and it caused division between him and sirius until the second war when sirius realized remus had been right.

- remus had a magical proclivity for defense, and was a great dueler. the only person who he was evenly matched with in his class was sirius. they often fought to draws. they absolutely keep count of their wins.

- remus, lily, and mary all collectively give james and sirius their music tastes. they have new records every time they come home from break.

- remus is absolutely a stoner and loves smoking joints, reading, and listening to music during his free time.

- him and sirius smoke together sometimes but remus smokes a lot more than sirius because it really helps him with his chronic pain and depression.

- oh remus rolling a joint is like the most sexy thing anyone has ever seen. sirius frequently uses those memories for….personal time.

- remus uses an expansion charm under his bed and grows his own weed, eventually becomes hogwarts resident dealer and always puts freebies in his deliveries

- the freebies include:

- little drawings made by sirius

- chcocolates

- sometimes if he’s hanging out with marlene and has to deliver an order she’ll draw a tarot card for the person and write down a little reading for them!

- remus’ own handmade stickers!

- yeah he’s everyone’s favorite drug dealer seriously 10/10.

- he operates this all under minnie’s nose and is forever smug about getting away with it.

- i could probably think of a million more because i just love him so much but ive been hitting my pen while writing this so i’m gonna go make a snack!!!

[linesonscreens]

Let's Read Peanuts (You WILL believe an unremarkable white boy can become president) – December 1958

There are lots of great strips I just don't have room to comment on. I strongly encourage everybody to read the full month at the official GoComics page. Today's month starts HERE.

December 1, 1958

It’s once again that special time of year where everybody desperately avoids making eye contact with Schroeder.

December 9, 1958

This one baffles me. Normally this kind of joke has a character doing something that cuts against one aspect of their character in order to emphasize another. For example, you might have Snoopy playing baseball with Charlie Brown saying something like “We have the only shortstop that gets drool all over the ball!”. The joke being that while Snoopy is very human in a lot of ways, he’s still a dog.

This strip isn’t rooted in any aspect of Snoopy’s character though. ~Why~ is Snoopy the only dog that can do this? He’s never been bat-like, and while he imitates other animals from time to time he’s never gained their powers in the process. You could have the “ARF” do literally anything and it would make exactly as much sense.

December 11, 1958

Replace “Westerns” with “Anime“ and “Rustlers Roundup” wi-

Actually, you know what? Screw it. We’re doing two edits in the same post. I mean, why not right? It's not like you can stop me. I am not unlike a god* in this respect.

*Specifically, one of those Shinto gods with an extremely niche and hyper-specific domain.

December 12, 1958

And we have our first appearance of Snoopy sleeping on the doghouse!

Why did this end up becoming a central pillar of the strip? No idea! Schulz probably just liked drawing it or something.

December 15, 1958

This joke has been brewing for over two weeks now. It had better be worth the buildup. 

December 16, 1958

It was not worth the buildup.

December 21, 1958

This feels very spiritually in-sync with the Christmas special. You can kind of see how the idea of overtly acknowledging the religious aspects of the holiday will evolve over the next few years. It's also very cute.

December 23, 1958

Oh, great and powerful Claus, conqueror of the skies and master of divine beasts,

Long have we anticipated your return to the realm of man, so that we may once again revel in your perfect judgement upon our wicked souls. Every day we think only of your supreme will. Every hour we enact your glorious purpose. 

Should you deem it a worthy endeavor, I beg of you to shine favor upon his wretched worm. I need not gold nor fame nor even a Nintendo Switch with the limited edition Tears of the Kingdom pro controller. I seek only that my name be immortalized in the sacred pages of the Book of the Nice, so that I would know my daily toil in your name was not in vain. Grace this humble home with your crimson visage, partake of our milk of the cow and sweetened bread (purchased by mine own hands during a long and arduous pilgrimage to the Safeway), and leave not the black stone of shame in your wake.

This I wish, and nothing more. May the generous be spared your righteous anger, and may the blood of the naughty flow so freely that it’s red current floods the world and rises to meet you on your journey across the night sky.

Your lowly servant,

-Linus

P.S.: A bike and some Roblox gift cards would also be nice. Thx in advance.

Thoughts:

OK! Time for the year end roundup! Let’s start with looking at how the style has evolved so far. This time we’ll take a look at…

Lucy!

(March) 1952

(December) 1952

1953

1954

1955

1956

1957

1958

Lucy is kind of interesting in that she changed quite a lot early on, but then doesn't visibly change all that much after 1955 or so. You can tell she's a bit older now and her overall look has shifted with the rest of the strip but on her own terms she's almost exactly the same as she's always been. It's not a mystery why, either. It's just a really solid design that doesn't need to be messed with.

Personality-wise though she's actually changed quite a bit due in no small part to her brother continuing to grow up and become his own person. It's changed a lot about how she interacts with him (talking with him, teaching him stuff, trying to look out for his interests in her own unique way), and this change has altered her relationships with everybody else. I mean, she's still a pain in the ass, but she's now terrorizing people in a more sophisticated and mature way. It's great, and I'm starting to actually like her as a character and not just as a funny antagonistic force (who I thought was kind of awful as a person).

On a larger scale the art hasn't really changed all that much this year but I do think it's been "refined" a bit. Around 1955 the art took that weird shift into a more blocky look (I lovingly call this the "fat kid" Peanuts era) and it always bothered me because I felt like some of the expressiveness and really solid draftsmanship of the early strips got lost in the transition. This year though I think the strip is finally making it work. The line work is a bit more loose and expressive and Schulz getting better at letting the character's unique personalities show through. We also got an uptick in the number of those detailed backgrounds we got in the early days, which was nice to see. Though I suspect that we'll still see fewer of them going forward.

You can also start to see the look of the "classic" peanuts era of the 60s-70s just beginning to emerge, which is pretty neat!

The biggest beneficiary of this year by far though is Snoopy, who's stretchy half-human cartoon look is finally starting to work for him. It's still ~a bit~ awkward and off-putting, but it's at a place now where it works more than it doesn't. I think it's the snout maybe? It was very long and wobbly before but recently it's been drawn in a much more short and round way that's a lot more cute. I don't know, you tell me (Engage the algorithm! Comment! Like! Subscribe!).

1957:

1958:

Overall I'd say that this year was another solid step up from the prior one (which was a step up from the one before that). Still not as good as 1953-1954 but we're getting close.

[artificialroux]

ik u said dani is prob ur least fleshed out oc but tbh i love her sm!! and the fc! her and shauna's smiles are literally the same i cant

the deer as her symbol?? i literally love it, esp since shauna is the butcher of the group (so it adds more angst to their dynamic) anyway js letting u know cause i would love more lore on her if u have any!

(also i feel like she'd get along well with anara)

aw thank you so much!! and yes i literally saw icons of them both smiling and was like omg...twins???

AND YES!! the deer as her symbol is definitely supposed to be tied to shauna's role as the butcher. deers are such a big thing in yj, from in doomcoming where they see travis as a stag and hunt him, to when they cut open a deer filled with maggots (literally rotten from the inside out but somehow still alive?), and of course the whole antler queen deal!

as for danielle, her connections to a deer symbolize her unconditional love for the people she cares about, shauna for one, who she will always idolize, even as shauna takes on a darker role, and she's left to question if this person is still her sister. many people also view deers or rather doe as a stereotypical feminine symbol; ie gentleness, compassion, innocence.

ANYWAYS!! here are some actual fun facts abt her since that was your question...

hopeless romantic – before the crash, danielle secretly loved romance novels and old hollywood movies, dreaming of a love story of her own, even though she never felt like she fit into the dating world—until she developed feelings for natalie.

film buff – she could spend hours watching movies, analyzing every detail. if she had survived, she probably would have studied film or literature in college.

writes in the margins – she has a habit of scribbling notes in the margins of her books, whether it’s thoughts, favorite quotes, or little doodles when she’s bored.

fashion-obsessed – she’s meticulous about her outfits and always made sure her skirts, cardigans, and tights matched perfectly. in the wilderness, losing control over her appearance is one of her silent struggles.

sisterly shadow – she loves shauna deeply but has always felt like she lives in her sister’s shadow—both at home and socially.

doodles flowers – whenever she’s anxious or lost in thought, she absentmindedly draws little flowers.

hated gym class – she always dreaded gym, partly because she wasn’t athletic like shauna and partly because she hated sweating in her nice clothes.

nose scrunch – when she’s frustrated or deep in thought, she scrunches her nose slightly, a quirk that shauna used to tease her about.

tea over coffee – unlike shauna, who probably leaned on coffee, danielle preferred tea—especially chamomile or anything floral.

loves music but can’t dance – she adores music, especially soft rock and indie artists of the time, but she’s a terrible dancer and gets embarrassed easily when asked to dance at parties. this is especially funny when you remember that she took ballet as a child to makeup for not joining the soccer team! she obviously was not very good at it though.

secretly good at card games – she used to play cards with her dad before he left, and even after he was gone, she retained a knack for card games.

soft spot for poetry – while she loved novels, she had a quiet fondness for poetry, though she rarely shared that with anyone.

doesn’t swear much – compared to some of the other girls, she doesn’t curse often. when she does, it’s usually under her breath or when she’s truly upset. her mother taught her from a young age that it was impolite to swear, and she just never grew out of the habit.

had a childhood stuffed animal – she had a stuffed rabbit named clementine that she kept on her bed at home, something she never really talked about.(this is a parallel to callie's stuffed animal as a child that shauna gets the van back for.)

used to babysit – before the crash, she made extra money babysitting, and kids tended to like her because she’d make up stories for them.

hates the feeling of dirt on her hands – before the crash, she was the type to carry hand lotion or wipes in her purse. the wilderness forces her to push past that discomfort.

still thinks about her crush on nat – even after the crash, she sometimes finds herself watching natalie when she thinks no one’s looking, though she knows romance isn’t a priority in survival.

nicknames - over time danielle has acquired quite a few nicknames, the most common being dani as a shortened version of her first name, but the team has also taken to referring to her as "little shipman" even though she's only slightly younger than shauna. she dislikes this nickname.

[senka-mesecine]

What would spending a lazy day with a dom!esticated Bob include? 🥰 🫣

---

― Whatever the case, lets cut to the chase and open up with the practically realistic fact that a weapon still stays by his side or at least somewhere close by; be it a firearm leaning on the wall or hanging off of it, a knife under the pillow or in his boot or perhaps even fully and blatantly on display somewhere if he feels like it, a gun on the nightstand or a blade hidden somewhere on his own person for a quick and deadly draw, but however lazy Barnes seems to be he is never sloppy or careless, domesticated situation or not --- be the circumstances civilian or otherwise; he is simply innately vigilant and him being docile and well aware that he is seems all the more reason for him not to get soft and stupid. As such, the weapon(s) remains at hand at all times. Same goes for the boots.

― That being said, not that he probably ever says it verbally but what would be considered daytime napping together is a prefered activity; that is, you nap on his chest and he's fully awake while you do it which is, perhaps, inherently restful for a man like Barnes or at least as close to rest as he could get. In fact, you might not even be aware Bob probably doesn't sleep when you do. Or sleeps very little out of dyed-in-the-bone, ingrained habit and a need to be aware of his surroundings at all times. Two or three hours at most a day and that's it for him. You might just figure he always wakes up before you do, like clockwork, but unspoken probability is that he has a major penchant for silently watching you sleep and doing genuinely nothing but zone out and stare off, tuning out all the shit. Again, he'd never confess to it being therapeutic nor would he use that phrasing in a million years, but it is.

― Poker? Thing is, you don't even have to actively play. Or know how. Or be particularly good or proficient at it. He's there demonstrating how it's done instead of doing too much explaining, showcasing the rules, shuffling cards while you watch his hands at work, being unusually patient when you lose and if he feels particularly cheeky in his own way, he might just teach you how to cheat and get away with it too. Point is, somehow you sat for hours engrossed in the task of losing to him and undoubtedly being severely bested by an infinitely more experienced player time and time again and you weren't bored. Strip poker technically may be the game of the hour but it is not unlikely that Barnes is already halfway stripped and sweaty as is during rounds by default as is. It is possible that lazy days are spent with him being naked to the waist.

― Man's from the deep South; who's to say that during the most leisurely days he wouldn't want to sit on the front porch listening to some Bluegrass on the radio or alternatively, in a rare bit of tenderness and perhaps personal vulnerability, lay down his head on your lap while he has a smoke? Or while he just looks at you do it, your fingers in his curls? Vice-versa is just as likely as he combs your hair with his fingers for hours, somehow managing not to say anything and hyperfocused for what seems ages. I envision Barnes's pleasures are simple like that and if it's something overly complicated just for the sake of being complicated he doesn't consider it unwinding, in fact, he'd consider it a chore; as such, commonplace, homegrown type unwinding is where it's at with him. It's a day where quite literally nothing of specific note is done, because I do envision Barnes as a manner of man where doing nothing specific by default equals as a lazy day.

― Even though these are intended to be dom!esticated headcanons, I genuinely can visualize a lazy day with Barnes where the subject of intimacy and sex is concerned him specifically having and wanting you atop of him, placing his arms behind his head like a leaning pillow while he watches you ride him or suck him off. It's a lazy day, right? Well, lazy it is then. Get to lazing. He is still in charge, of course. His eyes tell you what to do, how to do it, how long to do it for, he sets the pace effortlessly, stops when he wants to edge you, continues when he wants to rattle you, he gives out orders, heck, he might be smug enough to take a swig of his liquor, blow cigarette smoke into your face as you do it or do something unfathomably arrogant like playing around with the safety of his gun or cleaning, right in the middle of it all, cementing this air of cocky nonchalance he'd have going, but fact he is going to lay down (quite literally) and have you do the pleasing.

― Bathing. Filling an indoors or, say, outdoors tub with water and just washing his scars for him. Tending to them. Cleaning them. Easing the muscles and knots (knots he'd never admit were sore or painful) accumulated in his back throughout the years and then washing said back too. Massaging his shoulders. Shaving him carefully around his facial scars even though he can well enough do it on his own and has done so successfully for ages, but allows it for the simple reason of feeling your pretty fingers on him and watching you focused, almost wishing you'd slip up and leave a tiny, impossible to notice scar behind, but that's just Barnes being Barnes for you. Ultimately, it falls under one of those activities that are too elaborate and ritualistic to be had and indulged in quickly and in a major haste, within the confines of an army life or out on the field, but in a domesticated life where there's time a plenty? Yeah, it's game. Possibly his favorite thing in the world too.

[niennanir]

It is Two Days to Christmas and I am in Walmart.

I hate Walmart. I'm not getting into cultural or economic ground here, it's an actual physical problem for me to be in a Walmart. I'm not just hyper observant, I'm hyper perceptive and Walmart assails the senses in a way that borders on the debilitating. The is too much stuff, piled to the ceilings on rows that are engineered in a way that cuts off sight lines, there are too many colors, too many people, and the smells, they're overwhelming and conflicting. The lights are too bright. The lights are too loud. The HVAC and the coolers in frozen foods are also too loud and I can hear all of them in dissonance.

I will avoid Walmart if I can. The longest I've managed to stay out is four years. My schedule used to take me to parts of town where I had more options but my schedule changed this year and now the easiest option is to go the four miles to Walmart rather than the fifteen to somewhere less offensive to my own personal brand of crazy.

It is too days to Christmas and Walmart is three times worse than it is any other time of the year.

I only need a half a dozen things and I zip from aisle to aisle as fast as I can, skirting around shoppers who look dazed beneath the yellow green glow of the humming florescent lights. I slither past a man trying to figure out where he left his wife and rapidly start scanning at the nearest self checkout. I can feel my anxiety ramping up but it's fine, I can get out of here in a few minutes, out into the fresh air and the warm Florida sun. It's fine.

I reach into my bag for my phone, my hand closes around it as I remember that I can't use my phone at Walmart. I use Apple Pay for nearly all my groceries. The less I fumble with my wallet in a crowded store the better. But I can't use it here. I let go of my phone and dig down for my wallet.

My wallet isn't there.

I open my bag wider and stare into its depths. There is an iPhone, a tiny drawing pad with a stub of a pencil. A grape chapstick. My car keys. My sunglasses. And no wallet.

I jiggle my bag ineffectually, hoping for a Christmas miracle that will summon my wallet from the back pocket of my favorite pair of jeans. My favorite pair of jeans is hanging on the back of the bathroom door. I wore them last night to look at lights, and I put my wallet in my back pocket after I bought hot chocolate.

I could walk out of course. I want to. But there are so many people in line waiting, trying to get home to their other tasks. I flag down the nearest self checkout monitor.

"You're going to have to clear my transaction." I say "I left my wallet at home"

"Oh dear, are you sure?" she replies. "I can save the transaction and you can go get your wallet and come back, then at least you won't have to collect everything again."

"It's eight miles there and back in heavy traffic," I say with a sigh. "It would take a miracle to get back here before the frozen vegetables thawed."

"Ma'am, did you forget your wallet?"

I turn at the sound of the man's voice. He's a little older than me, an everyman type. Polo shirt shorts and docks, the standard Florida grocery shopping uniform.

"I did," I say with a sigh.

"I do that all the time," he said sympathetically. I'm about to reply that unfortunately that doesn't make me feel better.

"Would you let me buy your groceries for you?"

I freeze.

It's rare that I don't know what to say. I always have a quip or a comeback. But in that moment all I can think of is the eight mile drive, the whine of the lottery ticket machine the way the fourth florescent light from my left is flickering, the fact that I should have been back to work ten minutes ago.

It's only $35 dollars. I have $35. What I don't have is another trip to Walmart in me today.

"Hey!" the self checkout monitor says cheerfully. "You got your Christmas miracle from Santa!"

"Thank you," I say to the man. I can feel my throat closing up as he reaches over and runs his card.

"I do this all the time," he says, shaking his head. "This is the only place I can't use my phone."

"That's how I got in trouble," I admit.

He nods, knowingly. "You have a Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas to you too!"

By the time I've gathered my bags he's disappeared in the crowd.

I couldn't pick him out of a lineup right now if my life depended on it. I notice everything, but he was so unassuming there wasn't a lot to notice. Just a guy, in Walmart, two days to Christmas.

Making the world a little better $35 at a time.

[lordsovorn]

Time for a pinned post update!

Hi there!

🌕 I'm a non-binary Ukrainian pixelartist, fascinated by the darkness, the beauty in the horrible, and the contrasts of life ✨

More info under the cut:

(commissions, hashtags, etc.)

Links:

🕯️ All my art is first posted on Patreon (as well as bonus content like timelapses and workflow comments) ✨

💙 You can also find me on Bluesky and Cara at @/lordsovorn, same as here

Commissions:

🎨 I might not be immediately available (that is, I may put your request in queue for a week or two), but I'm long-term open for personal and commercial pixelart commissions. You can contact me here, on other social media or via email: ourclaritythemoon@gmail.com

More info in this commission info post, with payments methods and additional details. If you have any questions, feel free to ask!

Things I make:

💀 A good chunk of my drawings have lore to them, and in particular I'm illustrating (and writing) a lot about a setting of my own called Under - a sprawling mysterious underworld, shrouded in darkness and superstition, where the last remnants of humanity are slowly being digested into nothingness.

You can look through it all at #secrets of the under

🎴 Over the years I've also been illustrating a custom deck of tarot-like cards - and here are some of my favorites:

About halfway finished at the time of writing :)

Usually tagged #tarot like cards

For the last two years I would do a free new-year-fortune-reading with them - we'll see about this one, it's getting more energy-intensive with each new suit added.

🕯️ I'd hesitate to call myself a gamedev, but I've been playing around with various projects for a while, and you can sure expect that there will be gamedev stuff in the future :)

On my Patreon you can see archived updates and concept art for a Game With A Lot Of Candles In It (on hiatus at the moment)

I reblog a lot, so be warned :)

My taste in art and cool science facts is immaculate though. I like horror, dissecting the stories I love (whether in games, shows, books or comics), history and bugs 🐙

There's a hashtag specifically for my art - #Lord Diana art

If I'm posting something related to a fandom, it's usually tagged - here's a reminder that you can mute tags.

Reblogs of my own things are tagged #reblog or #night reblog. If there's any tag you'd like me to use, feel free to respectfully let me know :)

What else?

🚫 r*ssians are not welcome here, as well all the varieties of bigots I won't even bother recounting. Fuck AI, fuck NFT, fuck m*sk ✌️

I hope this to be a friendly and accepting space 💜🤍🖤

And a serious one at that too - all life is political, after all.

///

With that said, I hope you enjoy your stay in my corner of the internet ✨🖤✨

P. S. My asks are open, and questions about lore are ALWAYS welcome

[itgirlgyu]

SUMMER CAMPUS LOVER. choi beomgyu.

PAIRING: beomgyu x reader GENRE: fluff WC: 1007

"duped by some jaded adults in your college you were led to believe the tales of the beautiful boy who haunts the hallways of your university, infamous for his love that took place in the summer, until you found him, and he's very much... real?!"

"Are you the ghost of summer campus lover?"

Beomgyu turned around to take a better look at you—cutting amidst the newfangled autumn air with the remnants of summer still tucked underneath the space of his eyes, and the wonderment twirling around the corner of his lips. An expression of bewilderment—despite doused in amusement as he assessed the ridiculously worded sentence that left your mouth, not even delayed within the gates of hesitation.

"Can you—" a broken chuckle left his mouth, as his eyes crinkled in futile attempts to conceal his delight, "Can you repeat that?"

You frowned, holding the rolled manuscript of literature club's new fiction close to your chest to strengthen your resolve. You nodded your head with conviction, although it lacked a little less spirit compared to yourself that had marched behind the person whom you considered your only chance of campus adventure that you were going to remember till you take your last breath before you graduated, and busied yourself with the grueling daily routine of a working adult.

"Are you-" you halted, suddenly the wording drawing its sharp realization upon your throat. Panicked eyes flitting from the shadow underneath the setting sun, or the sweet scene that drifted from his body at the proximity you two had finally shared—all of it were awfully human.

He's a real human.

The veracity of the fact that you were being played into an elaborate rumor. on you finally settled on your nerves, and the panic soon seeped in as if it had been waiting for its cue on the line for a long, long time.

Should you run?

"Come on," Beomgyu prodded at you, taking a one step— two step closer to where you were standing, bending his neck a little downwards to meet your downcasted eyes, an impish smile imminent on lines of his pretty lips, "I want to hear it."

"Were you in on it?" Your voice was meek, laced in many components of embarrassment, fear, and rage— so, so much of rage. You were seething; you were angry at yourself for ever believing in some groundless rumors made by bored adults.

Whilst you were tasting the layers of acrid concoctions of those awful emotions, Beomgyu busied himself with the task of counting how many times your eyebrows furrowed as the dots connected in your head one after another; the redness of your bulging eyes once you decided on which reigning emotion you were going to act upon and he soon realized that anger had taken the trump card.

Beomgyu could sympathize with that.

"Were you in on it?" You questioned the long haired boy again, the determination in your opaque tone sending tingles down his spine, and he straightened his back, feigning a look on his pretty features pretending to think of the answer you were demanding out of him so nicely.

"At first? Not really." Beomgyu answered truthfully, shoving his hands into pockets, stumbling backwards with rhythmic lull to his unpredictable steps, "But then you kind of just figure it out, don't you?"

Beomgyu looked at you, as he stood against the burning orange figure of the sun, barely human— looking much akin to the ephemeral phantasm as everyone had made up rumors about, as much as you hate to admit your own ignorance you could not help but accept that such beauty could not exist within the threshold of this universe.

"How did the rumors come to be?" You inquired, your voice louder for him to hear you clearly. The usual sweetness of your tone swirling back in as you let the whole ordeal simmer within moments basking in the magical sun rays—something your grandmother had always suggested to you when saw you huffing and puffing in rage that was far too great for your little mass of body. The anger that was collecting your gut sort of fizzed away as the ridiculousness of the situation started to appear more, and more vitreous.

"Guess I am just too beautiful!" Beomgyu boasted, doing a whole demonstration of his beauty by flinging his hair back, before breaking into soft giggles. Bending across the railing of the rooftop, his laugh eased, and you found yourself stalking towards him. A strange rhythm danced underneath your feet as you contemplated the amount of distance you were supposed to cross over to stand next to him, or if you should at all.

Beomgyu noticed that too—for being a supposed rumor, he was too perceptive of others notions, but you had not expected him to urge you to stand close to him; closer than you had seen anyone get to him.

Dithering footsteps delaying as you waited for the unspoken approval; despite the deplorable feeling of rejection building up inside you. Beomgyu broke through the barrier of your thoughts with a swift gesture of his head and pressed smile, showing off that little dimple of his.

"I don't bite." Beomgyu jokes, with his smile deepening and pulling the corner of his eyes in mirthy mischief. You mirrored him, and skipped past the remaining distance.

"I skipped school a lot," Beomgyu broke the tranquility first.

Within a split second, the moment felt all too real.

You had known nothing but whispers of corridor about the beautiful ghost haunts the story and how those rumors had spun itself with pretty threads of romantic fables—that's all you knew to the man, yet in this moment, with him so close to you—it felt real.

His name— Beomgyu, had blanketed himself with untamed wildflowers that others only preferred to look from afar and weave tales of, but never dared to approach.

You turned to look at him—his elbows perched on top of the railing, and eyes staring ahead into the drowning sun as the evening zephyr caressed his cheeks, and told wispy secrets to his fluttering locks—you nodded.

"You skipped school a lot." you repeated after him, and his dimple on his cheek deepened, "okay, it's normal to skip a lot."

Beomgyu giggled, turning around to meet your stare, and nodded in agreement.

AN/// yes this is my come back IM SO FUCKIN SORRY FOR DISAPPEARING ALL OF A SUDDEN!!!! hopefully this is a sign I'll be back soon and kicking like a horse.

COPYRIGHTS TO ITGIRLGYU, feedbacks and reblogs with lil thoughts are always appreciated!

PERM'TAGLIST @impureperhaps @jisungsdaydreamer @wonioml @1921choi @ox1-lovesick @forever-in-the-sky2