#natural field stone wall

[gqutie-blog]

Traditional Patio - Brick Pavers Large traditional courtyard brick patio vertical garden idea in the form of a patio

[bitidragon]

Fire Pit - Patio Medium-sized, transitional backyard concrete paver patio image with a fire pit and no cover

[zeraiya]

Landscape - Mediterranean Landscape Ideas for a sizable, fully-shaded gravel garden path on a hillside in the Mediterranean during the summer.

[varlysuperfan]

Dallas Wine Cellar Example of a mid-sized tuscan terra-cotta tile wine cellar design with display racks

[rataccoon]

Patio - Stamped Concrete Image of a medium-sized stamped concrete patio in a mountain style featuring a fire pit and a gazebo

[rmarts]

Traditional Patio - Brick Pavers Large traditional courtyard brick patio vertical garden idea in the form of a patio

[bones-n-bookles]

Exploring Stone Walls: a Field Guide to New England's Stone Walls, by Robert M. Thorson, 2005

Tending the Wild: Native American Knowledge and the Management of California's Natural Resources, M. Kat Anderson, 2005

[teddy-bear-naps-and-random-snaps]

[erickavila]

Boston Retaining Walls Ideas for a sizable traditional front yard with full sun stone landscaping.

[sol-domino]

Natural Stone Pavers Front Yard Inspiration for a large modern full sun front yard stone retaining wall landscape.

[bluedoveyellowsun]

Stone Exterior in Philadelphia

[talesofesther]

something like love

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: Aemond finds a gentle love with you.

A/N: Let me know if you want to see more of Aemond here. :)

Masterlist

The feeling of a spring air still lingered in the garden, even if it was already the beginning of fall. A few flowers still bloomed, the trees still had green leaves that danced slowly with the wind.

It was a peaceful place, removed from the weight that lingered inside the walls of The Red Keep. As Aemond lazily walked the overgrown stone path, he decided he quite enjoyed the quiet.

He rubbed at the skin of his palm with his other thumb, his eye scanning the surroundings, searching. He's not sure why he volunteered to come, if he was simply looking for an excuse to get away for a moment, or something else.

You usually liked to hide away in the gardens. "It's beautiful and calm there." Aemond heard you telling Helaena the other day, as he'd been selfishly taken a liking to observe you more lately.

It was your fault, really. For having a voice that wasn't sharp to his ears and for looking at him as if the painful reminder of his past hadn't been forever carved onto his skin, as if he was still worthy of a pretty lady's attention.

It was farfetched to think he could ever gain your affection, Aemond knew this. Yet it didn't stop his heart from wishing, and he also knew, that if anyone were to give him a sweet demise, it would be you.

He found you after rounding a corner hidden away by a big willow tree that had its trunk crooked and bent in a weird way, as it had made its way around other trees to reach sunlight. You sat on the grass, tucked away in a secluded nook, and weaving together small flowers until they haphazardly formed a crown. Flowers bloomed in the bushes around you and it was as if nature itself bent its rules to match your beauty. There was a delicacy about you that was foreign to Aemond's world and he worried he was becoming addicted to it.

The way the prince's heart leaped in his chest was instant, his hands grew clammy, and he felt a prickling need to turn around and rush back to the castle; for he was suddenly a thorn in your field of flowers. He hesitated, feet unmoving while he watched you from afar.

It couldn't be. Aemond's lips hung open, mouth dry. He was nervous.

He'd never been alone with you before.

The wind carried your perfume to him, and eventually, your gaze. Your eyebrows raised softly in surprise upon catching him just standing there, watching you, with arms limp beside his body and hands closed in loose fists.

Aemond felt his cheeks warming up, his heart now beating faster in a manner he was all too used to. His mind raced when thinking of how pathetic he must look, like a scared boy cowering from a pretty girl, what must you think of him-

"My prince," you spoke, bringing him away from the darkest places of his mind, voice as sweet as the small smile you had on your lips; for him. You lay the flower crown you held in your hands back in the grass where it came from. "You've found me."

Aemond had trouble shaking the feeling that you seemed pleased to see him. It was almost as if you'd hoped he'd come find you. He cleared his throat, avoiding his eye from yours with the guise of bowing his head in a cordial nod. "My lady," he began, internally wincing when his voice came out just a little too breathless, "I've come to escort you back inside, dinner should be ready shortly."

Your smile shifted into a smirk that Aemond had trouble reading, there was an alluring glint to your eyes that called him in. "Oh, how kind of you."

He took the final steps to close the distance between you, mindful to avoid stepping on the pale pink flowers you seemed to like so much. He offered you his hand, yet worried, even if in the back of his mind, whether you'd actually take it or not.

You didn't hesitate for a moment before placing your palm in his, allowing his fingers to close around yours and pull you up effortlessly. Your hand lingered in his for just a moment, before you let go to brush off any grass that had stuck to your clothes.

When you looked back up at Aemond again, your stomach filled with the familiar feeling of butterflies and your heart swelled with the hints of affection you'd inevitably developed for him; for the way his eye softened with only a small ring of color around his blown pupil, for the way his long hair fell over relaxed shoulders and framed his handsome face, for the way his lips tilted just a tad up into a smile, features soft and free of any burden. Whether he realized it or not, Aemond seemed to let down his armor around you, if even a little.

You both walked the stone path that led back to the castle at a slow pace, side by side with your shoulders occasionally brushing against each other. A mutual silent understanding between you that neither you nor him were particularly eager for the moment to end.

Despite the time of year, many flowers remained in the grass and in between shrubs. Some of them had a lovely perfume, some of them housed eager bees and butterflies. One in particular caught your eye, however, and you approached it with a spring in your step.

It was a small little thing, with white petals and a yellowish middle; it wouldn't be missed in the big expanse of the garden. With a deft grip, you plucked out the flower. There was a hint of a smile on your lips as you looked at it, twirling the tiny thing between your index finger and thumb.

Aemond had gone quiet but you could feel the weight of his gaze on you. He did that a lot, you noticed; looked at you when you weren't looking at him.

With no words, you turned around and extended the small flower to him, the tilt of your head and the sway of your lips spoke enough, a silent; 'for you'.

Aemond concealed his surprise. Or he tried to. He had both hands clasped behind his back, but you could see his shoulders tensing as soon as your attention diverted back to him, as if waiting, expecting something unkind. His eyebrows furrowed softly, pinching together in curious confusion while his good eye drifted between you and the white flower held between your fingers.

He took his time. The soft breeze blowing through the garden made his hair flow, strands of it getting caught in his eyelashes and forcing him to push it behind his ear; you followed the motion with your gaze, wishing to be the one who brushed his hair and whispered comfort into his skin. You'd wait, for as long as he needed to understand you were not one of the unkind ones.

Delicate.

His touch was as delicate as the flower. With the same hand with which he wielded swords and commanded a dragon, he reached for yours. His fingers grazed yours when he took the flower from you, and he did so slowly, bordering on hesitant, as if the white petals would wither and die by his touch.

Part of you didn't expect his delicacy. Part of you has always known he was nothing but delicate. Not as fragile or weak as the white flower, no. But delicate, soft, something to be handled with care. Beneath the rough facade, hid a gentle heart after all.

Your smile widened when his own lips twitched upwards as he gazed down at the flower in his hand like it was the most precious gift he'd ever held. His other hand came up, fingertips grazing the white petals as if to confirm they were real. There was a soft pink hue to his cheeks, his eye shining with something foreign to you, yet that you already adored. You felt privileged. No one knew this Aemond but you.

When he finally looked up at you again, there was a newfound vulnerability to his gaze, his features, all of him. His lips hovered but no words came out, he blinked once, twice, and took a step toward you.

You understood the words stuck in his throat. Gratitude. Gratitude for loving him.

With more boldness than rational thought, you stood on your tip toes and lay a chaste yet lingering kiss on the corner of his lips. And Aemond leaned into you once you pulled away, chasing after your touch.

It was your turn to feel your cheeks heating up, as you raised an arm and hooked it around one of his own, tugging him along the overgrown path of the garden.

For a cherished moment, peace reigned. Aemond pulled you closer.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

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Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

[limarieb]

so high school

Pairing(s): Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: Growing up, you could never understand how people your age were so romantically interested in other people. You begin to understand for the first time, however, when you encounter a certain Sokovian during your first semester of university.

Warnings: mentions of underage drinking, college!au, friends (?) to lovers, college au, making out, slight angst (but not really)

Word Count: 4.0k

Author's Note: everyone say thank you taylor swift for the spontaneous new fic! also this is lightly proofread, so edits might be made later oops

Main Masterlist | ao3 | Wattpad

...

Growing up, you never truly dated anyone. Sure, you had crushes on fictional characters in the media you consumed, and you allotted arguably too much time to admiring celebrities online; but, you never saw anyone in your personal life in such a light. At various hangouts and sleepovers over the years, you noticed just how much your friends discussed their love lives. Hushed whispers and sighs of the same phrase, “I really like them,” flooded your ears in the hallways at school. You had originally tried to join in on the conversations, not wanting to be excluded, but you simply couldn't engage in them wholeheartedly; eventually, the inability to relate began to upset you. You naturally boiled it down to something that must have been wrong with you �� how could it possibly be normal to be like this when everyone else around you seemed to share these romantic sentiments?

Thankfully, you became completely preoccupied, both mentally and physically, by the prospect of university. By the time your junior year of high school had started, your love life — or lack thereof — no longer held too much importance to you. Instead of keeping whimsical love letters on your desk like others your age did, you opted to pile various books. From Camus to Aristotle, you discovered a deep fascination and affinity to the field of philosophy and the metaphysical discussions it posed. Therefore, when your senior year had arrived, you threw yourself head first into your studies, determined to build up your application in order to get into a top university.

After accepting your offer into one of the best philosophy programs in the nation, you anticipated your time at university, daydreaming about all of the things you would study and all of the people you would meet there.

But never could you have anticipated someone like Wanda Maximoff.

You had met her during one of your introductory courses in your first semester. Wanda was the type of person that, upon first glance, you would be scared. Not just because she was undeniably pretty, but she also had this stone cold exterior to her. Her lips were permanently etched into a slight frown, and she never really showed too much expression while she spoke during class. To put it simply, she intimidated you; so, you settled on admiring the brunette from afar (two seats up, one to the left — if you were to be specific).

Your plans changed, however, after the two of you got assigned to be partners for a class project. It was just a presentation, but it required you both to meet outside of class to work on it. You would be a liar if you said your heart didn't skip a beat at the thought of seeing Wanda outside of these four walls of your classroom, even if it was just to work on this assignment.

Seemingly unbothered by it all, she gave you her number for you to set up a date and time to meet. Her messages were all business, but they still made you feel like a dopey teenager every time her name showed up on your screen.

The day quickly came for you both to work on the presentation. Ultimately, you had settled on the two of you meeting in your dorm, which you made sure to deep clean before she came. You were not necessarily messy by any means, but the idea of Wanda, the most daunting person you could imagine, stepping into the safe space of your room made your blood run cold for some reason.

As Wanda knocked on your door, you rushed to open it. The two of you stood face to face for a moment, divided only by the doorframe. She still had her typical frown, but you noticed it shift into the slight uptick of a smirk. After a moment had passed, she finally broke the silence. "Are you gonna let me in, or...?" she asked, teasing you and your awkward nature.

Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment as you stepped aside for her to enter, "Oh, right... Sorry."

You led her to your side of the room, where she stood for a moment analyzing all of your possessions. You felt small as she did so, like a tiny insect under a bright, unsettling microscope.

She suddenly turned to face you, dropping her bag on the floor, "So, are we gonna work on this or not?"

That is how you found yourself on the floor, her laying on her back and you on your stomach. You had your computer in front of you, typing furiously as she provided you the words and ideas. You glanced over at her every now and then, especially if she was being awfully silent.

Most times, she would just be looking up at the ceiling in thought, her brown hair sprawled in random patterns underneath her; however, after a particularly long bought of silence, you looked over at her to find her gaze directly on you. You quickly returned your eyes to the screen of your computer and began typing whatever came to your mind. You hoped she did not notice the blush rise to your face.

She did.

She sighed, turning her body to lay completely facing you. "You're very quiet, you know," she stated, closely observing your reactions highlighted by the light of your screen.

Unsure of how to respond, you simply say, "So I've been told."

"Oh," she exclaimed, her smirk from earlier returns. "She has jokes."

You hum in agreement, "Just a few, unfortunately."

With the project now finished, the two of you abandoned it in favor of simply talking to each other. Never would you have guessed that Wanda could be this... warm. Unlike what you had witnessed in the classroom, she was very friendly and sarcastic in the privacy of your dorm.

You discovered a lot of information about the brunette during this conversation, such as how she loved coffee but only if its iced, how she never loved texting (preferring to call or talk in-person) but will do so if she must, how she immigrated with her twin brother from Sokovia when they were children. As she recounted her memories from Sokovia, you could hear the accent she once had poking through the surface; although, you did not point it out, afraid it was an insecurity of hers. Maybe you would tell her another time how nice it sounded, but for now, you bonded with her about collecting CDs and vinyl records from various artists.

While the two of you casually spoke, all you could think about was her — how pretty she was under the dimmed lighting of your dorm, how every joke she told was the epitome of humor, how much you wanted to stay in this moment with her. She was perfect.

Is this what people were talking about in high school?

As the night came to an inevitable end, you found yourself feeling quite sad, for you no longer had an excuse to hang out with Wanda. Though she had her number, you did not have the confidence to use it and ask if she wanted to meet up again.

You did not have to worry too much about it. As she packed her belongings back into her bag, swinging it over her shoulder, she spoke, "You know, you're pretty cool, Y/N."

You tried to hide the shock caused by her words, "Thank you, I think?"

She chuckled lowly, "My friends are having this thing at my place this weekend, if you wanted to join?"

Your head perked up, eyes blinking rapidly in shock. Unable to deny her offer, you nodded, "Yeah, sure... okay."

“Great,” she replied, walking toward your door. You followed behind her and reached around to open for her. She smiled at the gesture before speaking again, “I’ll text you later with the details and everything. See you in class.”

“Yeah, see you,” you returned. As you closed door behind her, you feel your mind finally catch up to reality: you, the stereotype of a nerd with very few friends, are going to hang out with Wanda and her friends.

You close your eyes, leaning your head onto the back of the door. “Oh, shit,” you whisper aloud into the open air. What have you just gotten yourself into?

Decoding your own thoughts and feelings about the Sokovian in the days leading up to your next class had revealed just how infatuated you had become; yet, you didn't even know how to act upon them. For years, you had only observed romantic behaviors from the outside looking in, whether it be through your friends' dating experiences or the words on a page from whichever sapphic novel you had picked to read. Now that you finally found yourself in the loop, what were you supposed to do?

Should you message her about whatever? No, that would come across as needy and overbearing.

What if you found her after class and ask to hang out again? No, that's even more overbearing than the text message.

The internal war waged on, resulting in your mind and body being paralyzed out of anxiety. For now, you have settled on simply waiting for her message regarding this weekend and presenting your assignment with her this week during class.

Days later, you walked into the class, practically shaking from your nerves about the presentation and the girl that you had to present with (who had just so happened to become your first teenage crush over the span of weeks).

You sat down in your unofficially assigned seat. Being so focused on the way your leg bounced repeatedly, you failed to notice the familiar brunette enter the classroom. Instead of sitting in her typical seat, however, she dropped her bag on the floor by the seat directly next to you.

Wanda instantly noted your nervous demeanor. While she had her own anxieties regarding the presentation and such, hers remained within her mind. She never showed such things outwardly, unless she was with someone with who she felt undeniably comfortable expressing those thoughts.

She slid into the seat and reached over to place her hand on your bouncing leg. Immediately, you noticed the feeling of someone's hand, breaking the chain of your anxious thoughts; upon glancing to your side, you discovered the culprit: Wanda.

"Hey," she started. "Everything is going to be fine, I promise."

Unable to find the words currently, you opted to remain silent, but you provide her with a uncertain nod in return. With a squeeze of her hand as a final attempt at reassurance, she placed her hand back within her lap and waited for the class to begin.

As always, Wanda was right. Your presentation went well; there were a few instances of stumbling words on your part, but otherwise it went great.

When the two of you returned to your seats, she leaned over and muttered under her breath for you to hear, "Told you so."

As you began to do your typical nighttime routine that evening, you heard your phone go off. Unsuspecting to who it was, you tapped on the screen under the assumption that it was just another email added to your overflowing inbox. You were wrong yet again.

Wanda: hey y/n !! are you still able to make it to the thing this weekend?? its gonna be on saturday at my place... lmk !!

You stared at the message for a moment before confirming you would still be in attendance, of course. Was it normal for your heart rate to speed up this much from mere words on a screen?

Saturday night rolled around quicker than you had anticipated. It was almost time to leave, yet you were currently standing still in your pajamas, surrounded by the miscellaneous clothing items you had thrown around. Ultimately, you had settled on the outfit you had first chosen, resulting in a bunch of unnecessary cleaning afterwards.

When you arrived to her place, you promptly knocked on the door. A moment passed before the door creaked open to reveal the Sokovian. Her outfit was considerably more casual than others you had seen her wear around campus. She stood in front of you, adorned with an oversized band tee and jeans; her fingers were still littered with her usual assortment of rings. However, the thing that surprised you the most was her lack of makeup. Not that she needed it, of course; in fact, it was quite the opposite. Tonight she seemed to have abandoned her typical heavy eyeliner and rose-colored shade of lipstick, choosing to only use her mascara and some chapstick.

"Sorry for the jumpscare," Wanda joked, her nose scrunched in amusement from your reaction. She continued to explain, "I know I'm dressed down compared to class. I just don't like putting in the effort to get ready sometimes, especially to just hang out with friends."

"No!" you exclaimed, quickly trying to backtrack the way she took your shocked expression. "No, you're fine. You're beautiful, actually, I just- I was just surprised to see you without the eyeliner and all."

Her cheeks became flushed at the compliment, but you seemed to miss it being overly concerned with your own response. She chuckled at your awkwardness, "Thanks. Oh, you can come in, by the way. I think everyone is here now."

She introduced you to each friend, after which you gave an insecure wave in return.

As the night progressed, you gradually loosened up. Whether it was time or the alcohol in your bloodstream, it frankly did not matter to you. You were not drunk by any means but definitely buzzed enough to not worry about every single decision you made. You even talked to one of Wanda's friends, Natasha, for awhile without the Sokovian present (given that she had left to use the restroom, but it still counts in your mind).

Suddenly, you were sat on the floor, playing childish party games with the others. It was fun, you couldn't lie... until it wasn't. You had already survived Truth or Dare, but someone (Tony) had suggested Spin the Bottle. With no romantic history, it was practically a given that you subsequently had not kissed anyone yet. For your first kiss to be during a stupid game of Spin the Bottle would be depressing; but, you didn't want to be the loser who said no to playing because the reason would be too humiliating to explain.

So, you elected to power through the hesitation, hoping the bottle just would not land on you.

At first, you were confident. The game was now three rounds in, and you remained lucky.

Eventually, the group had noted your lack of participation and had chosen to give you a "free spin." You silently prayed it would at least land on someone with whom you had become somewhat acquainted. With a shaky hand, you reached forward, spinning the emptied beer bottle. In the moment, it felt like the bottle would never stop spinning, but, once it did, it felt like time froze altogether.

It landed on Wanda.

Though you liked the brunette, you truly did not want your first kiss to be this way, especially with her.

She instantly noticed your apprehension. Turning to where Tony sat in the circle, she offered, "Hey, what if we did a hybrid of this and Seven Minutes in Heaven?"

Your eyes widened at the question, feeling unsure about all of this.

With a smirk on his face, Tony agreed, "I like the way you think, Maximoff. Alright, new girl, go follow Maximoff, and don't have too much fun while you're gone."

Before walking off with Wanda to the nearest bathroom, she briefly turned around to aim her middle finger at the boy. Though you were extremely overcome with anxiety about what was about to occur in the bathroom, you released a chuckle at her response.

She pulled you into the bathroom, flipping the lights on. As the door clicked shut, you faced her with your back against the wall.

"So, um, what are we supposed to do?" you asked.

"We don't have to do anything, Y/N," she replied, leaning against the bathroom counter. "I just noticed you weren't very comfortable with the idea of kissing me out there, so I improvised a little bit."

"Oh, okay," you breathed out. "Just for the record, it was not the idea of kissing you that made me uncomfortable. You- You're cool, so, it's fine."

Wanda tilted her head in curiosity, clearly not expecting that response. "Oh?" she questioned. "What was it then? Because I could clearly tell you were not very comfortable in there... I mean, you were visibly stiff."

"It's not you, I just..." you looked away, unable to meet her gaze.

"'It's not you, it's me'?" she joked, narrowing her eyes.

"Yes! No! I mean..." you exhaled. "It's not that the idea of kissing you makes me uncomfortable because, believe me, it very much doesn't. I just- I've never done this before."

The blood rushed to your cheeks during your admission. You felt utterly embarrassed, wishing you could just be back in your dorm in this moment.

"Y/N," she called softly. Despite every ounce of your body screaming at you to not do so, you returned your gaze to the Sokovian. "Do you want to kiss me?"

You couldn't read her tone. A part of you was nervous, maybe this was all some sick joke between her and her friends; yet, the other part of you was thrilled by the proposition alone.

"I wouldn't oppose," you muttered, automatically employing humor as your defense mechanism.

Wanda rolled her eyes at your antics, "Ok, then, let's play a new game." She looked down at her phone, checking the time. "We have less than four minutes in here."

Confused by the sudden change, you acquiesced in her request, "Okay?"

She stepped closer to you, standing a foot away.

Her tongue escaped her mouth, briefly licking her lips, before she proposed, "Are you going to marry, kiss, or kill me?"

Your eyes widened at the unexpected question, but you attempted to recover in order to return her playful energy, "Can I choose all three?"

Her eyebrow had risen, the infamous smirk forming on her lips. Slowly, she inched closer and closer to you until you could feel her breath on your skin. One hand found refuge on your hip, while the other she brought to the side of your face. She used her fingers to tuck a few loose strands of hair behind your ear then cradled your face. You licked your own lips and closed your eyes in anticipation.

Then, you felt it. Her lips brushed against yours, softly and slowly as if she were testing the waters. It was only a peck, but you swear your heart burst from the experience.

A moment passed before she pulled away enough for her to speak.

"Was that okay?" she inquired, ensuring you were still interested in this.

"More than," you affirmed.

She smiled, "Good, because we still have a few minutes left, and I intend to use them."

Without another second, she connected your lips once again. This time was different, however; there was a newfound fervor behind it. Her kisses started slow like the initial pace, gradually becoming quicker and deeper. Uncertain about what to exactly do, you continue to follow her lead. You felt her slide her tongue across your lips, asking for entrance. How could you ever deny her that? As her tongue began to clumsily caress with yours, a familiar feeling settled in the pit of your stomach, but you ignored it and kept kissing her.

A knock at the door pulled you both back into reality.

"Time's up, lovebirds," the voice called. "Clothes better be on and straightened when you leave."

Wanda chuckled at her friend's words and bit her lip. For the first time, you think you see her outwardly nervous. She swallowed as she shifted her gaze from your lips to meet your eyes, "Hey, I um- I hope this wasn't a one time thing."

You sighed in relief, "With you? Never."

She leaned forward once more, placing a final peck on your lips before grabbing your hand to return to the circle. Instead of your prior placements on the floor, in which she sat on the other end, Wanda refused to let go of your hand, instead pulling you to where she had been sitting.

Thankfully, no one mentioned how your cheeks were now incredibly plagued with a pink hue, allowing the game to continue onward.

After the group decided to finish playing games and turn on a movie, you followed Wanda to the couch in order to sit next to her. As soon as you found your place at the end of the sofa, she gravitated closer, leaning into your side. Her head rested on your shoulder as if you both had been close for years.

The movie American Pie started playing, all of her friends too engrossed in it to note how the two of you were cuddled up together. She picked her head up from its place on your shoulder. You didn't think too much of it, imagining her neck must have simply gotten uncomfortable in that position.

However, she turned her head to face you, taking in the sight of you and her friends all hanging out and watching a movie. Unable to resist herself any longer, she leaned in closer, her breath hitting your ear as she whispered to you, "I can't focus on the movie. All I can think about is kissing you right now."

You rotated your head to face her, biting your lip at her words. "Shush, your friends are here," you quietly argued, but you were secretly enjoying her antics. You peered over her shoulder, observing her friends who sat quietly with their attentions fully focused on the film.

Wanda pressed a soft kiss to the base of your neck prior to returning to its original position on your shoulder. You sighed at the feeling of her affection, wondering if it would linger forever.

Soon enough, the movie ended, and it was time to go home for the night. Her friends had left moments ago, but not without saying how you should "come around more often." Honestly, you were deeply excited that you received their approval, especially after the recent developments with Wanda.

You stayed behind for a little, attempting to garner as much alone time with Wanda as you could without being interrupted.

With the others now gone, you allowed Wanda to be more affectionate; or rather, you allowed her to give in to her desires and kiss you again, and again, and again.

After the final peck, you pulled away with the cheesiest smile and swollen lips. She loved seeing you this way: giddy and carefree.

"I really like you, Wanda," you proclaimed with a sigh, effectively breaking the comfortable silence between the two of you. "Like, a lot."

"I really like you, too," she replied. "You know, in case it got lost in translation with the kissing and everything."

You playfully slapped the side of her arm. "I'm serious," you started. "You make me feel so... high school."

She raised her brow, gesturing for you to continue.

You resumed, "I never felt like this, especially during high school. For a while, I actually thought something was wrong with me." Her lips formed a slight pout at your past conflict. "I was always so... jealous of others my age, having all of these teenage experiences with crushes and romance. Since I never did, I just assumed that it was my fault, that something was wrong with me. It was isolating; it felt like some inside joke that everyone else knew about except me. But, I'm happy I waited, truthfully, because now I can experience all of those high school feelings with you."

End.

[probablyasocialecologist]

A system of ancient ceramic water pipes, the oldest ever unearthed in China, shows that neolithic people were capable of complex engineering feats without the need for a centralized state authority, finds a new study by University College London researchers. In a study published in Nature Water, the archaeological team describe a network of ceramic water pipes and drainage ditches at the Chinese walled site of Pingliangtai dating back 4,000 years to a time known as the Longshan period. The network shows cooperation among the community to build and maintain the drainage system, though no evidence of a centralized power or authority. Dr. Yijie Zhuang (UCL Institute of Archaeology), senior and corresponding author on the paper, said, "The discovery of this ceramic water pipe network is remarkable because the people of Pingliangtai were able to build and maintain this advanced water management system with stone age tools and without the organization of a central power structure. This system would have required a significant level of community-wide planning and coordination, and it was all done communally." The ceramic water pipes make up a drainage system which is the oldest complete system ever discovered in China. Made by interconnecting individual segments, the water pipes run along roads and walls to divert rainwater and show an advanced level of central planning at the neolithic site. What's surprising to researchers is that the settlement of Pingliangtai shows little evidence of social hierarchy. Its houses were uniformly small and show no signs of social stratification or significant inequality among the population. Excavations at the town's cemetery likewise found no evidence of a social hierarchy in burials, a marked difference from excavations at other nearby towns of the same era. But, despite the apparent lack of a centralized authority, the town's population came together and undertook the careful coordination needed to produce the ceramic pipes, plan their layout, install and maintain them, a project which likely took a great deal of effort from much of the community. The level of complexity associated with these pipes refutes an earlier understanding in archaeological fields that holds that only a centralized state power with governing elites would be able to muster the organization and resources to build a complex water management system. While other ancient societies with advanced water systems tended to have a stronger, more centralized governance, or even despotism, Pingliangtai demonstrates that was not always needed, and more egalitarian and communal societies were capable of these kinds of engineering feats as well.

[letsgetbigger]

A Big Team

Part one

The university was gearing up for the start of a new football season. Their team hadn’t had good results in recent years, and the administration decided it was time for a drastic change. So, they invited Samuel Reeve, their most outstanding former star, to take the reins as the new coach. Samuel, 38, accepted the offer, leaving behind his monotonous office job and the small apartment he had rented for the past few years.

At 330 pounds, well distributed on a robust frame, Samuel was an imposing man. Despite having a round and prominent belly, his musculature was evident, reminding everyone of his glory days on the field. His attractive face didn’t go unnoticed either: piercing eyes, a chiseled jaw, and a confident smile. However, he harbored a very personal secret. He got turned on by making other men gain weight. And with his new role as coach, he saw the perfect opportunity to fulfill his most intimate desires without raising suspicion.

One Saturday morning, Samuel woke up in his new apartment on campus and dressed in his coaching uniform. He briefly admired his reflection in the mirror. The tight shirt accentuated his figure, giving him an unquestionable air of authority. It was a new beginning, and he was determined to make it memorable.

He left the apartment and took a deep breath. Walking confidently toward the stadium, he enjoyed the familiar atmosphere. The red brick buildings and wide tree-lined avenues reminded him of his days as a student and player, but now he was back with a different mission.

He arrived at the stadium and headed to his new office. He took a moment to observe the space. The walls were decorated with trophies and photos from his playing days, a clear testament to his legacy. The desk, though simple, was tidy and ready for the tasks ahead. But best of all, a door led directly to the locker room from his office, and if left open, he could even see the showers. The view from his chair gave him a strategic advantage. He would be able to observe the players without them noticing. Samuel smiled to himself, imagining the future. He didn’t just want to win games; he wanted to make his boys grow in a very particular way. He was eager to meet them and start implementing his plan.

Finally, the players started arriving at the locker room to change. The noise of conversations and laughter filled the room. There was a lively atmosphere. From his office, Samuel watched every detail with growing interest. The players undressed naturally, stripping off shirts, pants, and underwear before putting on their uniforms. Some were chubbier, and others were slimmer. However, three players caught his attention because they looked like Greek gods carved in stone.

The first one was Axel, a beefy blond with a beard. His muscles were impressive, each of them perfectly defined and visible even under the locker room’s dim lights. His nipples were large and pink. He wore boxers that comfortably hugged his glutes, enhancing his figure. As he undressed, his arms and torso tensed and relaxed with natural grace.

The second player was Marco, a Latino with dark skin and dazzling eyes. His thighs were wide and powerful, a clear display of his strength. Although what really stood out was the size of his penis, which seemed even larger when he took off his tight briefs to put on a jockstrap. Marco had an innate confidence, and moved with an ease and charisma that attracted all eyes.

The third one was Jamal, a young Black man with a perky butt that immediately drove Samuel crazy. Jamal also wore briefs. These accentuated his firm, rounded glutes. His body was a work of art, with defined muscles and shiny skin that reflected the light. When he bent over to pick something up or simply turned, his butt swayed provocatively. And he had a contagious laugh.

Samuel couldn’t take his eyes off them. Axel, Marco, and Jamal were the embodiment of physical perfection. He decided it was time to introduce himself. He got up from his chair, adjusted his uniform, and stepped out of the office.

As he entered the locker room, the noise quieted down, and all eyes turned to him. Samuel smiled, ready to get to work.

“Good morning, guys,” he said firmly. “I’m Mr Reeve, your new coach. I’m here to lead this team to victory. You need to gain strength, clearly, and to do that, you’ll need to put on some weight.”

A murmur ran through the room. Some players exchanged worried looks, while others frowned.

“Listen up,” he said, raising a hand to silence them. “You’ve lost nearly every game in recent years. I’m convinced that gaining weight and building muscle mass will change everything. To achieve this, you’ll not only continue training hard on the field and in the gym, but also follow a strict plan of meals and protein shakes I’ve prepared for you.”

Samuel handed out a sheet with detailed instructions. The protests began immediately. Some players looked at the papers in disbelief, others with evident annoyance.

“It’s too much,” Marco said, looking up from his sheet. “With all this, I’m going to get fat.”

Samuel looked at him intently, challenging him with his dark eyes.

“Do you know who I am?” he asked seriously, his voice echoing in the locker room. “I’m the best player this team has ever had. You shouldn’t question me. If you follow my instructions, we’ll win.”

The room fell silent. Marco, quiet, slowly nodded, accepting Samuel’s superiority and experience. The other players, seeing the determination in their new coach, began to review the plan with less resistance.

“And now, off to the field. Let’s see what you’ve got to offer.”

They stood up and left the locker room. As Samuel followed them outside, he couldn’t help but feel a spark of excitement. This was just the beginning, and he was determined to see his fantasies come true, pound by pound.

Part two

After a month of rigorous training and a high-calorie diet, the young athletes showed undeniable changes in their bodies. Without exception, they had each gained around 20 pounds. Samuel watched them from his office as they showered.

Marco stood with his back to the stream of water. His previously defined abdomen now had a slight layer of fat that softened his muscles. Marco’s long penis contrasted with the growing roundness of his belly. His already wide thighs had become even more imposing. And his pecs had grown as well.

Axel, meanwhile, was slowly lathering himself. His muscular torso had a bulkier appearance. His large pink nipples stood out even more on his firm chest, now slightly covered by a new layer of fat. His belly had begun to round, burying the lines of his abs. As he rinsed off the soap, his muscles and the added fat under his skin moved in harmony, giving him a chunky appearance.

Jamal, standing under one of the showers, was in profile, offering Samuel a privileged view of his perky butt, which had grown in size over the last month. His glutes remained firm but rounder, with an extra softness. His hips had widened slightly, and the definition of his muscles overall had mixed with the new fat.

Samuel couldn’t stop staring. The transformation of those physiques, the result of his meticulous plan, was exactly what he had hoped for. His cock hardened, an uncontrollable reaction to the spectacle before him. Sitting at his desk, he observed every detail, every new curve, every pound gained.

That week, they played their first game and, to everyone’s delight, won. The atmosphere in the stadium was of pure joy, and the players were ecstatic about their victory. After the game, Samuel was called to the dean’s office to discuss the team’s impressive performance. Following a brief conversation filled with praise, he returned to his own office with satisfaction.

Upon opening the door, he found a scene of wild celebration in the locker room. The players, freshly showered and in their underwear, were singing and jumping. The accumulated fat on their bodies over the last month bounced in increasingly tight underwear. Suddenly, one of the players grabbed Marco’s large package.

“Your girlfriend’s gonna be happy, huh?” he said with a mischievous grin.

Marco slapped the hand away, laughing along with the rest of the team. Another player approached Axel and, pinching his nipples playfully, exclaimed:

“Look at the tits this one’s got now!”

The laughter grew louder as Axel blushed slightly. Then the guy next to him poked his now-rounded belly.

“And what a gut!” he added.

Axel, maintaining his composure, replied:

“If I weren’t this big, I wouldn’t have tackled that aggressive player from the other team.”

The others nodded, acknowledging the truth in his words.

“Besides, what’s grown the most isn’t my gut, it’s this.”

He approached a distracted Jamal and slapped his butt. Jamal’s cheeks, squeezed into too-small briefs, jiggled like jelly. More players started doing the same, seeing the opportunity. They laughed non-stop. One of them even pulled down Jamal’s briefs, revealing his huge cheeks. The shouts and whistles were immediate.

Samuel, watching the scene from his office, felt a wave of desire he couldn’t control. He discreetly closed the door, ensuring no one saw him. The sight of his fattened players, their rippling flesh, and their uninhibited camaraderie turned him on. His hand slid into his briefs. The vision of Jamal’s perfect, exposed glutes, quickly brought him to climax. He felt an explosion of pleasure as he came inside his underwear, filling it with hot jizz.

The victories continued as his boys’ bodies expanded. After another couple of months, the changes in their physiques were even more pronounced. In the locker room, after another exhausting practice and shower, the players dried off with towels, showing the results of their special diet.

Jamal dried off slowly. His butt, always large, was now impressive. Its fat jiggled with each step. He still wore the same briefs, which stretched to their limit to contain his fat cheeks, leaving his butt crack exposed, a sight Samuel found irresistible. The elastic waistband dug into his flesh, highlighting his volume even more.

Axel dried his blonde beard. His torso had gained a noticeable amount of fat, softening the muscles beneath. His belly had rounded significantly, and his pecs, once hard and defined, now looked like small mounds of fat with pointy nipples that wiggled with every movement. As he tried to pull up his boxers, they struggled to contain his new size. The elastic waistband dug into his waist, and his glutes, though not as bulging as Jamal’s, were also partially exposed.

Marco stood in front of his locker, dropping his towel. His body showed a thick layer of fat. His round belly hung slightly, and his wide thighs rubbed together with each movement. His briefs were so tight they squeezed his big cock. And every time he moved, his butt bounced.

Samuel, watching from his office, noticed Marco’s head was down, an expression of sadness on his face. He decided to approach him to see what was wrong.

“Marco, what’s going on?” he asked.

Marco sighed and grabbed his large belly with both hands, shaking it. His tits and genitals moved with the jerks, a sight that made Samuel gulped.

“My girlfriend left me because of this,” Marco said, his voice filled with disappointment.

Samuel tried to maintain his composure as his heart raced.

“Listen, Marco. If she can’t see beyond the surface, then she doesn’t deserve you. You’re more than your appearance, and everyone here knows it.”

Marco nodded, but the sadness in his eyes didn’t entirely disappear. Samuel, feeling his control slipping, quickly retreated to his office. He closed the door behind him and looked down, confirming that pre-cum had stained his shorts.

At the next practice, Samuel watched proudly as his players wore the new, larger uniforms tailored to their new bodies. During a break, Jamal approached with a look of discomfort on his face.

“Coach, I’ve got a pain in my shoulder,” he said, rubbing the affected area.

Samuel, always ready to take care of his players, offered a physical therapy massage in his office, where he had a treatment table prepared. Jamal accepted, and they agreed to meet that afternoon.

When Jamal arrived at the office, he wore a tight t-shirt that highlighted the curve of his belly and jeans that fit snugly around his hips and thighs. The clothes emphasized his bulk and evidenced his size. Samuel welcomed him with a professional smile, though his mind was full of lustful thoughts.

“Let’s work on those tense muscles, Jamal. Take off your clothes and lie on the table.”

Jamal nodded and began to undress. First, he took off his t-shirt, revealing his rounded abdomen and large pecs with firm, dark nipples. Then he unbuttoned his jeans and slid them down his sturdy legs, revealing thick, powerful thighs. He was left in a pair of newly purchased XL gray briefs that hugged his hips and butt provocatively.

He lay face down on the table, and Samuel got closer with a bottle of oil in hand. He poured some of the liquid into his palms and began massaging the tense shoulders, working with skill and firmness. As his hands moved, he couldn’t help but notice how Jamal’s enormous glutes swayed with the movement. Samuel’s eagerness intensified as he continued massaging. The sight of those big buttocks moving under the thin fabric of the underwear was overwhelming.

“I’m going to relieve the tension in your glutes too, Jamal. Relax.”

With a steady hand, he pulled the elastic waistband of Jamal’s briefs, lowering them with some difficulty. The smooth skin of his cheeks was exposed. It shone under the light with the oil Samuel applied directly from the bottle. Feeling the fat under his fingers for the first time was an incredible sensation. It provided a combination of firmness and softness he found very tempting. Jamal began uttering involuntary moans as he was being touched. They resonated in the room and in Samuel’s mind. Without stopping to fondle the sexiest player on the team, Samuel noticed his own excitement growing, his breathing becoming heavy. Jamal seemed increasingly affected by the physical contact. His moans grew louder and more intense until he finally let out a long shout and came, his body trembling with pleasure. Samuel stopped abruptly. Embarrassed and blushing, Jamal quickly got up, muttered a thank you while dressing hastily, and left the office.

Samuel remained in the room, contemplating what had happened. His mind revolved around one question: Was Jamal gay? And if he was, were there other players like him on the team? He was confident that, in time, he would discover the answer.

Part three

Christmas arrived and most of the team left campus. Axel and Jamal stayed. Axel, because he was an orphan, and Jamal, because his family had decided to take a trip and visit him.

One afternoon in late December, the coach took the opportunity to catch up on paperwork. He was in his office, with the door closed, when he heard noise coming from the locker room. He recognized the voices of Axel and Jamal. Intrigued, he turned off the light and cracked the door open just enough to remain unseen. From his position, he could see them. They had entered the shower. Axel was lathering himself up with slow, deliberate movements. His round, prominent belly shook slightly with each motion. Jamal, next to him, was also covered in soap. His large, full buttocks swayed gently as he scrubbed. Samuel noticed that both of them were semi-erect.

Suddenly, Axel and Jamal started touching themselves while looking at each other. Axel rubbed his pink nipples with his thumbs, opening his mouth with pleasure. Then he lifted and dropped his belly, making it bounce up and down with its weight. Jamal, with a lascivious smile, grabbed his breasts with his palms and fondled them. Then he turned around and slapped one buttock with a hand. The sound echoed in the space. With the other hand, he began to masturbate, his hard, shiny cock in his grasp. He slapped again. Axel seized his own cock and started masturbating as well, eyes fixed on Jamal. They panted and laughed, enjoying the moment. Finally, Axel and Jamal climaxed and ejaculated. The streams of jizz were lost down the drain.

Samuel couldn't believe what he had just witnessed. He stayed still, waiting to see what else they would do. The pair, still breathing heavily, got dressed while chatting casually.

"Dude, the coach is so hot," said Axel, adjusting his shirt over his belly.

"Totally," said Jamal, struggling to pull up his pants, his rounded buttocks protruding. "I would love to be as big as him."

Axel nodded. His eyes shone with a mixture of admiration and desire.

"Imagine what it must feel like to have that body. Strong, sexy, and with such an impressive belly. It would be awesome."

Jamal smiled, visibly excited by the idea.

"Yeah, man. Well, with what we've been eating lately, I think we're on the right track."

They laughed together, complicit in their fantasy.

"Do you feel like having some pizza?" Axel suggested.

"Perfect. We need to keep growing, right?" Jamal responded.

They put on their shoes and left the locker room, discussing how much pizza they were going to eat. Samuel, who had heard every word, formed an idea in his head.

The next day, he took his phone and sent a message to Axel and Jamal, inviting them to spend New Year’s Eve at his apartment. Both accepted immediately. Beaming with enthusiasm, Samuel went to the supermarket and bought an entire cart of food. He wanted to make sure the evening was memorable.

He spent hours cooking, filling his apartment with the delicious aromas of his preparations. When Axel and Jamal arrived, Samuel greeted them with a smile and offered them a beer.

"To help you relax a bit," he said, sensing they were somewhat intimidated.

They grabbed the beers and settled on the couch. The three of them chatted for a while, laughter and anecdotes flowing easily as the alcohol took effect. The atmosphere became more relaxed. Samuel found them incredibly attractive. Axel, with his blond beard and bulk, looked like a true Viking. Jamal, with his dark skin and curves, was like an irresistible chocolate treat.

"Well, guys. Let’s go to the table," Samuel announced when he thought it was time.

Axel and Jamal followed him. They sat down. The coach served the starter: a huge plate of pasta. On the side, he put another plate with bread and a generous slab of butter for each of them.

"I want you to eat it all," he ordered, taking a seat next to them.

They exchanged a knowing look and started eating obediently. The coach led by example, eating heartily as well. The pasta was delicious. The players ate quickly at first but soon began to slow down.

"Come on, you can’t leave anything," he insisted. "And spread all the butter on the bread."

After finishing the pasta and the rest, Samuel got up to serve the second course. The roast turkey arrived at the table surrounded by a bunch of golden, greasy potatoes. And he gave them more bread and more butter.

"Here you go," he said, inwardly enjoying their perplexed faces.

With each new bite, Axel and Jamal felt their stomachs filling up. After finishing the turkey and potatoes, they were all stuffed.

"Well, we’ll have dessert on the couch," Samuel announced.

"Dessert?" they protested.

They headed to the couch with difficulty, their bellies swollen and heavy after the feast. Samuel followed, carrying an enormous chocolate cake.

"Unbutton your pants and get comfortable," he told them.

They obeyed. Samuel watched as their bellies expanded once freed from the pressure of their clothes. The two young men felt a mix of anticipation and nervousness as Samuel placed the cake in front of them.

"Axel, I want you to take a piece of cake and give it to Jamal. Tell him how fat he's going to get."

Axel cut a large piece of cake. He held it out to Jamal and, in a provocative voice, said:

"Jamal, you're going to get so fat with this... Eat it."

Jamal, whose eyes gleamed with desire, opened his mouth and let Axel feed him the piece of cake. He chewed slowly, relishing both the food and Axel's words.

"Now you, Jamal," Samuel said. "Give Axel a piece and tell him how fat he's going to get."

Jamal cut a generous piece of cake and brought it to Axel. Looking at him, he said:

"Axel, you're going to get so fat today... Open up."

Axel took the piece of cake with a mix of lust and delight, savoring not only the dessert, but also Jamal's words.

"I'm going to step out to give you more privacy," Samuel said with a wink. "When I come back, I don't want to see a single crumb."

He put on his coat and exited the apartment, leaving them alone with the cake.

He walked around the campus, enjoying the fresh air and the tranquility of the night. His thoughts wandered to what Axel and Jamal might be doing in his absence. Fantasy sometimes turned him on more than reality. After an hour of walking, he returned to his apartment, eager to see the result.

When he opened the door, he found a scene that exceeded his expectations. Axel and Jamal were reclined on the couch, naked. Their bodies seemed even more bloated, with chocolate-stained mouths and bellies about to burst. What fascinated him the most was seeing jizz on their chests. They had fallen deeply asleep, exhausted from the excess of food and pleasure.

Final part

The season was coming to an end and the university football team, under Samuel's supervision, had undergone a radical transformation. All the players had gained weight dramatically, ranging between 270 and 330 pounds. For Samuel, watching them on the field was an endless source of pride. Their bodies had become imposing masses of muscle and fat.

Marco, with his now more robust build, dominated the center of the field. His jersey stretched over his belly, and his butt, tightly packed into his uniform pants, seemed almost to overflow. Every time he ran, Samuel could see how his fat oscillated with the movement and how his thighs rubbed together.

Axel, whose transformation was perhaps the most noticeable, played with renewed ferocity. His wider and heavier body gave him an advantage in body-to-body clashes. His pecs, turned into true masses of flesh, shook with every impact. His enormous, round belly moved hypnotically under his jersey. Every time Axel hit the ground, Samuel beheld how the fat in his abdomen flattened and spread, showing the weight he had gained with Jamal's help.

Jamal, with the roundest and most prominent buttocks Samuel had ever seen, was a sight to behold on the field. His butt, miraculously covered by the tight uniform, moved like an independent mass from his body with each step. His thighs combined muscle and fat. When Jamal ran, Samuel couldn't help but stare at how his buttocks swayed from side to side, a true spectacle. Axel had also done a good job of feeding him.

As the players moved on the field, Samuel felt a surge of excitement. Although victory was important, for him, the true satisfaction lay in witnessing how they had transformed. Seeing those previously athletic young men become powerful masses of obesity under his tutelage was the culmination of his deepest fantasies. The team, which previously lost almost every game, now played with renewed strength and determination.

The final whistle blew and the team erupted in joy. Samuel joined them on the field, his heart pounding. He knew he had achieved something extraordinary.

The celebration after the victory was something else. The players, full of adrenaline and euphoria, headed straight to the locker room, where the showers awaited them. The atmosphere was electric, with shouts of happiness and laughter echoing off the walls.

Samuel stood at the entrance, watching as the players stripped off their sweat-soaked uniforms. Their heavy, robust bodies moved with contagious energy. Axel was the first to get completely naked, revealing his impressive figure, with his round belly and prominent pecs. He headed to the showers, closely followed by Jamal, whose buttocks swayed sensually with each step. Marco, with his hanging belly and voluminous butt, wasn't far behind.

The shower started with streams of hot water and uproar. The players pushed and splashed each other. Samuel, from a corner, watched them quietly. However, his serenity didn’t last long. Axel, with a mischievous smile, approached him.

"Come on, coach, it's time to join the celebration," Axel said.

And before Samuel could protest, Axel and Marco grabbed him by the arms.

"Hey, guys, what are you doing?" Samuel exclaimed as he tried to resist in vain.

The players, still laughing, began to undress the coach. Samuel let himself be carried away by them. First, they removed his shirt, revealing his impressive torso. His large pecs and round belly were exposed, prompting jokes among the players.

"Look at those muscles, coach!" Marco said, laughing.

Then, they took off his pants, lowered his boxers, and pushed him under the hot water.

Being completely naked, the coach found himself surrounded by his players in the shower. The hot water cascaded over their bodies, creating an atmosphere charged with arousal. Axel and Jamal took turns touching Samuel's belly, their hands sliding over his wet skin. Samuel felt completely liberated. The obese bodies of the players moved around him, bumping and rubbing against each other in a choreography of flesh and desire under the water.

[girlkisser13]

aphrodite cabin headcanons

a/n: i know that the cabins are in order based on where each olympian sits on the olympian council but i find it funny that aphrodite is #10. get it? because she's a 10. i'll stop. 😔

children of aphrodite

• they're the most diverse cabin at camp.

• they're kind of like a cult.

• mean girls quotes. all day. everyday.

• they have loads of spare clothes that they lend out to new campers that arrive with nothing.

• they actually wear the least amount of makeup out of all the campers because they have the gift of natural beauty.

• they help kids work out their sexualities and make sure they're confident and okay with them.

• they are physically incapable of misgendering people.

• trans aphrodite kids can change their appearance at will.

• they know the basics of every romance language.

• they do couples counseling.

• camp matchmakers.

• they're the camp hairdressers and they also run a secret piercing parlor.

• sucker for romance movies.

• they have the most creative ways of swearing ("you impractical second hand prada bag").

• aphrodite gives them charmed bags that can hold ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING.

• they're particularly fond of sweet foods. like they need a little sweet treat after every meal.

• they keep a running list of the best make out and date spots at camp.

• they're always that person that has a tampon or pad if you need one.

• they're the type of people that will chop off their hair if it doesn't match their outfit.

• the cabin hosts regular beauty and self-care nights, where campers can relax and pamper themselves with facials, manicures, and other treatments.

• they are huge advocates of self love and self care. they do everything in their power to teach every single camper to love themselves.

• they are the most lgbtqia+ supportive cabin, as they are also very diverse in the terms of sexuality: imagine a ton of pansexuals, demisexuals, bisexuals, flirty gays/lesbians, a few aro/ace chilling in the background- everyone is represented.

cabin exterior

• instead of being a life size barbie dreamhouse like it's described in the books, its very subtle, and natural, and soft.

• the outside is pink, but such a pale pink that it looks white unless the right light is hitting it.

• there is natural ivy growing on each wall and onto the roof. It wraps around shutters and the frames of the doors.

• it almost looks like a small manor and like it should have been built on some far off hill that is surrounded by flower fields for miles.

cabin interior

• the inside is very warm and welcoming.

• there are so many pictures, posters, mirrors, and shelves that you can barely see the paint.

• lowkey feels like you're walking into a bath & body works.

• their cabin is filled with scented candles.

• pop music constantly plays in the background and everything in there is expensive as hell.

• their beds are tailored to each camper's exact taste. so it's a bizarre mix of furniture from a fluffy bed with 16 pillows to a bed that looks like it belongs in a prison.

• aphrodite charmed it so that it is bigger on the inside.

• there is a walk-in, expanding, closet where you put old clothes you don't want anymore and other siblings can come and get some new clothes if they need them (other campers are welcome whenever invited. it happens more often than it should).

cabin traditions

• at the beginning of every summer, everyone (if they feel comfortable) gets in front of the rest of the cabin and gives names, pronouns, and sexuality.

• there is an item from every sibling that has lived in the cabin somewhere on the walls. all of the pictures, posters, things on the shelves are placed there by a past sibling.

• there's a hook where, if your jewelry breaks in the cabin, you tie it off and hang it there. there is a necklace made of leather with a hundred year old stone heart on the hook.

divider by @chilumitos