#laurel musings

[skitskatdacat63]

Just gonna put these here in hopes that you understand my vision...

[mythological-art]

The Muses - Clio, Euterpe and Thalia

Artist: Eustache Le Sueur (French, 1616–1655)

Date: 1652-1655

Medium: Oil on Canvas

Collection: Louvre Museum, Paris, France

In Greek mythology, Clio, Euterpe, and Thalia are three of the nine muses, who are characters that inspire the arts and sciences: Clio The muse of history and creativity. She is often depicted holding a scroll or book and crowned with laurels. Euterpe The muse of music and lyric poetry. She is often depicted playing the flute. Thalia The muse of comedy and pastoral poetry. She is often depicted wearing a mocking expression and carrying a theatrical mask of comedy.

[overnightheartbeats]

°˖✧ what ethereal vibe do you give off? °˖✧

Aaron Contreras-Sandoval & Danielle Anderson - angel

all eyes are always fixed on you every time you enter a room. no matter what colour your wings are, you embody that colourful aura and everyone is drawn to you. you may not be one for too many words, but your eyes convey many feelings with just one look. be a little obsessed with yourself, I promise you it's ok

Isaac Phillips - mysterious bookstore owner

your bookstore/tea garden/cafe is a haven for many who were lucky enough to stumble across your (very well) hidden store. you may or may not be a very powerful immortal who now lives a quiet life. you share a likeness to someone in a photo hung up on your wall that was taken in 1902, but no one's really questioned it yet. only your most loyal customers are privy to your colourful past. oh the scandal and mystery of it all

Laurel Anne Thorn - shapeshifter

you adapt to situations and people rather quickly, and you pull it off so effortlessly, how sexy of you. still a little closed off, much to your many admirers' dismay. you could probably carry around a tiny blade strapped to your thigh and nobody would question it. in fact I think the drooling and gawking might increase by 30% at least

tagged by: an icon, @clubsmarties (thank u for the tag! <3) tagging:@cursivebloodlines, @evcrlasting, @musebluebird, @ruinedsoulsrp @super-bl00m + anyone else who sees this! I love reading these :)

[laureljacobs]

a look into laurel's senior yearbook with @benj-hyun

[thegrapeandthefig]

When I was a kid, there was a laurel tree in the garden under which I spent a fair amount of time because we had attached a hammock to it. I also liked the tree because I was allowed to pick leaves to throw in the barbeque, it smelled nice and harvesting the tree for that purpose was "my job".

Anyway, my mother is currently visiting her brother and she just sent me a picture of a young(ish) laurel tree with the caption "look how much the laurel has grown". Turns out my uncle got a cutting from the laurel tree before we left that place, over 20 years ago, and that baby laurel has since been growing in my uncle's garden.

I don't know why this makes me so happy, but this message came in right when I am drafting a post about the nymphs and it certainly didn't go unnoticed.

[meowindie]

closed for @anenamoredmind

"no- you don't get any more chances."

[poetdeco]

THE DAMPHIR PRINCE / alucard.

HEAR THE CANARY CRY / dinah laurel lance.

SHE'S LAWNIQUE / elle woods.

IMPOSSIBLE TARGET / ethan hunt.

SEVEN TIME BEAUTY / evelyn hugo.

THE DAMNED PRINCE OF GOTHAM / jason todd.

THE DEMON'S DAUGHTER / talia al ghul.

13 TIMES BETTER / sharon carter.

THE SLAVIC SHADOW / natalya romanova.

EMPEROR OF LATVERIA / victor von doom.

THE SPARKLING DIAMOND / satine roux.

THE BRAT PRINCE WOLFKILLER / lestat de lioncourt.

BUBBLY BABYGIRL TECH / penelope garcia.

MASCARADE BALL'S CINDERELLA / sophie beckett.

THE CITYWATCHER COMMANDER / harwin strong.

[minarcana]

@marionmaverick // from bc Laurel has to

"Alrighty! Let's--" Laurel's enthusiastic about snacks as a general rule, but then Marion keeps talking and she abruptly cuts to a visibly horrified and confused stare at Marion. "You... keep those Mord worms? Like on purpose? That's not real, those aren't actually food. They cannot be. Mords don't eat food that's edible to other people." She refuses to believe this. Laurel remembers the Mord Food Incident, none of that was edible. Jellied grubs!! Jellied... grubs. Marion, no.

[kyliafanfiction]

It is really unfair how often characters get condemned by the viewers when the reason they’re saying or doing the (admittedly) bad things they are is because they don’t have all the information we the viewers have.

Like, we need to remember to look at a character’s actions from the context of what they actually know.

[radgirl-spray]

Rant.

it always gives me whiplash when gringos call me or other latinas on radblog "Republican" and "nazis".

Because they are so sure they are making such the point about us being nazis and bringing conservative and apocalyptic takes on them because we don't want men in females spaces, and yet from our perspective, they are still thousands of people all across latam who simply dissapeared when the north american goverment decided to interfiere in latam's politics which lead to real, actual genocides based on politic stance. Specifically being leftist.

My country in particular had one of the most brutal dictatorships in latam. Over 40.000 people were killed, tortured or simply dissapeared just to prevent socialism, despite the socialist president at the time being chosen democatrically.

Now, women, mostly college students feminists at the time were systematically tortured. I'm not talking about internet persecution or some horrible missgender crime. I'm talking of whole brigades raping 14 to 21 year old girls. I'm talking of soldiers setting girls on fire. I'm talking about men open pregnant women to dispatch the baby. I'm talking about torture and murder.

Why? because they dared to talk about politics, because they dared to talk about contraceptives. About feminine issues. For being Left.

It was also a time where the wrong opinion could get you killed, could mean your children being killed. For being brown, for being indio, for being poor. Think of you neighbour accusing you of hearing certain music and your house being raded and your teenage children being taken to a camp to never be seen again. I'm not talking 100 years ago. I'm talking my parents and anyone who is 5 years older than me.

To this day we are extremely affraid of police and the military. The levels of poverty Latam has are hardly something people in first world countries have seen in a years, because the poverty itself has been caused for said countries and their progress. I'm talking whole neighbourhoods of houses made of cardboard while some first world country leaves a bunch of chemical wasteland just right up the corner where we live so they live better.

Two years ago there was a breakout in my country, it was quite famous. You know the first thing the police did?

They raped and hanged a girl on the street. In 2021.

And then comes some random USA/Canadian citizen and calls you "a republican" and "a nazi".

Did I mention after II world war many nazis escaped to latam and formed whole german colonies for either experimenting on humans or create pedophile nets and raping centers? the more you know.

But we are nazis, we are republicans. Despite the fact that that our indigenous people recognize women as adult human females, that indigenous women were hunted down and used historically to be bred by whites colonizers just like them. Despite the fact that most of us are mestizos, that color and class go hand in hand in latam, that we have a culture heavily based on religious intakes of what's women's place and that we shut up when the men talk, because that's macho culture. We are nazis and we are republicans, despite the fact that their fucking country killed thousands of us because we wanted to try left and to hope for something more than extreme poverty. Shit, we've even been called colonizer by some chicano who doesn't even speak spanish. I mean, what are the odds.

But the white men need to speak, the gringo has something to say, they need us to respect their pronouns and go along with their progress. So they packed their bullshit religion and ship it right down the frontera, and now we have to swallow too. Because we are latinas, we live in the backyard, right? what do we know about the experiences of american dudes in skirts.

[skitskatdacat63]

These sketches are dedicated to everyone in the tags of my original post agreeing with my vision 🙏 but especially to @tinyweltmeister for the little snippet you wrote!!

+ silly sketches

[cursivebloodlines]

☕️  - for dougie :)

🍎 ｡:*• ─ IT’S CHRISTMAS TIME !     ›    ( a symbol meme for muses who want to do something special and fun together this christmas / holiday season.) | @overnightheartbeats

send a symbol for our muses to: ☕️   ─  drink something warm and/or festive ( either at home, at a coffeeshop, christmas market, etc… )

Christmas had been Dougie’s favourite time of the year ever since he was a little boy. He loved it all: the bustling markets packed with treats and trinkets, sampling the drinks and delicacies said markets had to offer, watching the glimmering Christmas lights as they brighten the neighbourhoods, wrapping up warm in cosy jumpers, watching Christmas movies, the music (yes, he was one of those people who would declare it being Christmas as soon as Halloween finishes and immediately blast Christmas songs - he was like this from childhood, before it became The Thing), buying gifts for the people he loved and just the atmosphere. How magical it all felt, even when life itself could feel like a downer or a drag. It never failed to lift his spirits up especially when he needed it most. To quote that one famous song: he wished it could be Christmas everyday.

So naturally, it was his idea to suggest venturing to one of the many Christmas markets and explore what they had to offer this year. Perhaps going out and doing festive activities with his ex-girlfriend wasn’t the brightest of ideas but he didn’t care - there was nobody else he would rather do these things with. Besides, how else were they going to try and navigate this tricky part of their relationship, being friends and starting over, if they didn’t actively hang out and do things together? His feelings for her were all over the place but the more he thought about it, the more he realised he would rather have her in his life than not at all. Dougie already lost her once; he didn’t want to lose her again. There’s a part of him unsure whether he could survive losing her all over again. Despite this, trust was a vital necessity needed to rebuilt for them to have any kind of relationship. Romantic or platonic, and honestly…the line between the two could be a struggle at times.  But there was a time and place where he could dwell on them. And being here, spending time with Laurel was no place he would rather be. 

They idly chit-chatted as the meandered throughout the hustle and bustle, buying random little trinkets from the stalls, or taking photos of each other or selfies together whenever an opportunity presented itself, taking it all in as the sight of something caught Dougie’s attention: a couple walking past, hot chocolate filled to the brim of their cups, topped with plenty of whipped cream and sprinkles. His eyes lit up like a little kid, and he turned to face Laurel, a twinkle in his eye that made it very clear on their next plans. Before she had the chance to potentially object, he took her hand in his and followed the pair with the lovely drink in each of their hands. “Hi, excuse me? Excuse me please - er, sorry… Sorry…hi,” Doug uttered sheepishly as he raced to stand in front of them before they could walk off. The cold could be to blame, but his cheeks burned red, like it was embarrassing to randomly approach a couple of strangers all just to discover where they could get their hands on the mouthwatering delight in front of them. “So sorry to bother you,” he once again couldn’t help but apologise (some things never change), fingertips unintentionally squeezing Laurel’s hand gently. The action feeling like the most natural thing ever, just like old times. When he looked at her, amusement twinkled in her eyes, probably at the way he was starting to babble word vomit. Despite this, the smile she was trying to hide, he didn’t feel like quite the idiot he must’ve looked at. In fact, for some reason or another, he felt more assured. Like it sent a flicker of encouragement, like her mere presence offered him comfort in a time where he’d be feeling really silly or probably wouldn’t have even approached these random people to ask about their hot chocolate in the first place. Maybe she was just rubbing off on him, he liked the thought of that, it brought a smile upon his own lips. Momentarily getting distracted by being too busy admiring his ex-girlfriend, he cleared his throat to break his own thoughts as he glanced to the people in front of him, a timid, awkward smile gracing his lips. “I’m sorry to bother you but those hot choccies just looked too tempting and I had to ask - would you mind telling me… us um,” Doug paused to clear his throat before trying to finish his question. “Could you tell us or point us in the right direction so we can get one of our own? Please?” Was it possible to get redder and redder as his rambling continued? He could blame the cold but all of them probably knew otherwise. Getting flustered was his biggest talent. However, the people were lovely and helpful, advising where to go. With this newfound knowledge in tow, he thanked them profusely, wished them a very Merry Christmas and continued their quest to find the hot chocolate stand!

A few minutes later, lo and behold, they finally reached it. If it hadn’t been for Laurel pointing it out to him, he probably would have walked straight past it. Approaching the stand, he bought them both a hot chocolate each, customised to their contentment. Dougie, being Dougie, when posed with the difficult choice of deciding, he was stumped. Looking blankly from all the choices and endless combinations…To save time, he opted for everything. Which didn’t save time at all, considering that it took time for them to add all the toppings. They even asked him if he was sure which made him a tad uncertain, but with a bashful smile and an affirmed nod of his head, they obliged. His hot chocolate looked like a colourful, eclectic bundle of chaos. So much whipped cream, sauces of different flavours, ones he had no idea of what they were, topped with marshmallows and sprinkles and who knows what else. What can he say? He always had a sweet tooth. Besides, it was Christmas - there were no limitations at the most wonderful time of the year! There was probably more ‘everything else’ and probably less hot chocolate. To put it simply, his definitely looked more appealing in his head than in reality, and if he put a side by side view of expectations versus reality there probably would’ve been a biiiiiit of a difference, maybe he went a bit too far with everything else but he didn’t mind. Lesson learned, and he was going to drink his bloody hot chocolate! Paying for the drinks and offering a polite thanks, Dougie passed Laurel her hot chocolate with gleaming eyes and a bright smile and they found the perfect spot to sit and enjoy their drinks. Away from the hustle and bustle of it all but still in the vicinity, beautifully decorated with pretty lights and a massive, decorated outdoor Christmas tree in the centre of it all. A perfect view for them to sip away at. “Thanks for coming here with me, doing all… well, uh, this. It’s been great. Really lovely, and I’m hoping you had fun too,” he said, his eyes unable to contain the amount of love he still had for her. Lifting his cup up slightly, he added, “Cheers,” with a warm, lighthearted laugh, before clinking his cup against hers. Like the Cheshire cat, he could not wipe the smile off of his face if he tried. In an imperfect world and situation, this moment felt like the most perfect thing he’d experienced in years. He raised the cup to his lips, briefly blowing on it to cool it down - albeit what good would that do since the drink itself was covered by the various toppings - as he took a sip of his drink. A thoughtful hum left his lips.

“Huh. Better than I thought actually, bit sweet but not overly sweet, considering…” he mused before offering the drink to her whilst Laurel was in the middle of drinking hers. “Do you want to try? Go onnnnn, you know you wanna,” he persuaded, wiggling the cup in front of her face as if it would tempt her some more. Doug’s grin widened as she passed her cup to hold in the mean time, and he swapped it for his for her to try. He was transfixed on her, his eyes full of love and adoration. It was the happiest he’d been in a long time, and it felt relief knowing how they could simply…be. How despite their situation, this was the most normal he’d felt in a long while. Normal, but also not normal. It was too odd to explain, but either way. Here? Now? This moment? This moment was everything. “How was it? That taste alright?” Dougie laughed as Laurel returned his drink to him, handing over her drink back. She was just perfect. The smile she gave him, the sound of her laugh. She was truly mesmerising, he’d never been so in love. His gaze travelled down to her lips as he realised some of the cream had stuck to her. Chuckling softly, he gestured to his own face as an indicator. “You’ve got um,” he said, the doting smile etched across his face growing wider as she seemed to miss the spot every time. “It’s okay. Here, um, let me,” his voice was soft, gentle. Like part of him was unsure but he went anyway, leaning in a little closer to make sure he got it. His thumb gently swiping against her lips, his tongue darting out to wet his own lips as he resisted the temptation to replace his thumb with his mouth. Swallowing thickly, as if that would eliminate all thoughts he had, it only made the urge stronger. Dougie considered it as he retracted his thumb, his eyes meeting her then glancing down once again. If only, if only. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t kissed her before. But this was different, they were different. And they were doing good. This was going well. He was too much of a coward, but it was hard to think straight when his heart was pounding in his chest, his stomach filled with the flapping wings of butterflies driving him crazy. How was he able to focus on anything when she was so close to him? When his thoughts were suddenly swimming and his stomach doing flips? Why did it feel like falling in love with Laurel for the first time all over again? 

“Got it,” he simply said, trying to steady his breathing pattern, trying to conceal the fact that every thought swirling around in his mind was just about her. Only her. “All better.”

[overnightheartbeats]

headcanon generator — bold what applies to your muse

Laurel Thorn

laurel can hug you, but won't.

laurel sucks at saying tongue twisters.

laurel is oblivious to any and all romantic interest someone may show them.

laurel knocks people over by hugging them.

If someone they knew committed a crime, laurel would cover for them.

Isaac Phillips

isaac desperately needs a hug but doesn't know it and refuses to ask for one.

isaac gets into Twitter discourse.

isaac believes in ghosts and insists on trying to summon one at every sleepover.

isaac has a very low alcohol tolerance.

isaac wakes up on November 1st and starts decorating for Christmas.

Aaron Contreras

aaron can't sit in a chair properly.

aaron is very willing to eat inedible things.

aaron hates being alone.

aaron listens to 80s music.

aaron doesn't own a single pair of matching socks.

Danielle Anderson

danielle is a very good singer.

danielle tackles and wrestles people to show affection.

danielle stole a lollipop at the checkout when they were 5 and they still feel guilty about it.

danielle can play the piano.

danielle is smart but also very stupid.

Irvin Grey

irvin has an incredible short-term memory but an awful long-term memory.

irvin makes your mom jokes.

irvin cries while watching disney movies.

irvin has an incredible spice tolerance.

irvin bullies kids on roblox.

Ivette Martinez

ivette had an emo phase.

ivette cannot drive.

ivette sings in the shower.

ivette has chronic nightmares.

ivette can beat you up, but won't.

tagged by: @ruinedsoulsrp (as always, ty for the tag, and for the opportunity to expose my clowns!) tagging: @cursivebloodlines, @clubsmarties, @super-bl00m, @evcrlasting, @goxinsane + anyone else who sees this on the dash! :)

[laureljacobs]

ten songs for laurel reyes.

my mortal wound — lily talmers / tenenbaum — the paper kites / nobody gets what they want anymore — marlon williams & aldous harding / the body is a blade — japanese breakfast / i will always love you — dolly parton / bug like an angel — mitski / zombie girl — adrianne lenker / texas hold 'em — beyoncé / walkin' after midnight — patsy cline / that funny feeling — phoebe bridgers

listen.

[cupcraft]

i died in a mutuals dms today....imsobrave

[all-that-is-gold-is-now-gone]

Forgive My Trespasses

Mmm Serena/Lyn gets robbed and shot in the strip mall. Idk its just been in my head so I wrote part of it out Warning: blood, violence, all the things.

Laurel had gotten to the hotel late in the night. She and Alicia had gotten a call for help while the two of them were out on a run. Lyn and Troy and their group had run into the Clark they had long thought dead about two months ago, she had been out helping people in any way that she could. It was a cool summer day when Alicia had asked Lyn to assist her with a run, helping some people who had called out to her for help, and Lyn had agreed to help leaving little baby Tracy with her husband at the camp. It was supposed to be a quick trip but after the pair were done with their first stop another two calls came through the radio. Alicia said they should split up, she would take the first call and Lyn should head to the location of the second call which was an old strip-mall, the group called for medicine and aid for some children they had with them. Alicia promised she would meet Lyn at the mall when she was done with her drop. Before Lyn could think better of the plan Alicia took off in the MRAP and Laurel took the truck she was driving and headed off towards the mall. It was a ways away, so by the time she got there is was dark, and Alicia was nowhere to be found. Lyn really should have gone back, turned back and fled back to Troy. Her body screamed at her to go back, but she remembered the radio call, they called out for help for their children. Lyn knew if she ever needed someone to help Tracy she would want people to help and not turn away. So she took a deep breath and walked into the hotel with her medic bag of supplies slung over her shoulder, her machete at her waist, and her gun in her belt.

Although it was all a trap. Lyn knew that the moment she saw the group. There were no children, and the group was larger than was said. The doors she walked through were slammed shut behind her, and she knew deep down, she was screwed. First she tried to reason with them, keep them at bay and bide her time, maybe Alicia would show up. They took her bag, her machete, her gun and her walkie, the one thing she could use to get ahold of Troy. Of Russell, of anyone. She fought then, taking two of the people down with her, grabbing the walkie from one of their grips and quickly pressing the button.

"Troy!" She cried out painfully, in a panic, "Troy-help..." She took in a ragged breath, "I'm in the Strip Mall off of Jackson St. Help, I-" Before she could finish the call, or even hear Troy's reply she was sent to the ground with a rough hit and then kicked in the side repeatedly. The group beat her then. The last thing Laurel did was beg, pushing herself to stand up against the wall she took in a ragged breath and looked at the leader of the group and begged. Begged to be let go, to return to her home, to her husband and their infant child.

"Please...please..." Laurel said softly, begged. The wife of Troy Otto, the daughter of a man that only knew how to use his fists, the woman that had punched Jeremiah Otto without fear, was begging. Tears brimming in her eyes as for once, she actually felt scared, "please I have a daughter." The words left her lips in a soft cry, "she's only two." Laurel shook her head and sucked in a sharp breath, "she won't even remember me if I die now."

But her pleas fell on deaf ears. Then the leader raised his gun and shot two bullets into her torso. Laurel fell back with a painful cry, blood pooling around. Laurel laid on the ground, watching as she cried as the group left through the doors and took the truck she had brought and drove away.