rubys-things23-blog

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I'm Demi-bisexual 💙💙

Reblog if you're gay, lesbian, bisexual, pansexual, asexual, transgender or a supporter.

This should be reblogged by everyone. Even if you’re straight, you should be a supporter.

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Inspired by the song Mercury by Sleeping at Last

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Science Teacher

Their science teacher, Ms Blake, was a miserable old bat whose last dregs of passion for teaching died along with the dinosaurs. Her hair was the colour of fog in the summertime and cut into a bob that brushed her jawline and was made inexplicably neat with the help of strong hairspray, the smell of which clung to her scrawny body. The frames of her glasses were a dusty rose pink, and they were so large that they almost touched the tips of the scraggly micro-bangs that pathetically shadowed her forehead. Today, she was wearing a deep green sweater paired with a long grey skirt that reached the tops of her polished black shoes. She was always dressed in greys, greens and browns, like some kind of overgrown toad. She finally reached the front of the room and placed both hands on the desk in front of her, taking a deep, rattling breath to prepare herself for the day. Her many rings glinted in the florescent light as she rapped her knuckles on the desk, so hard it must have hurt, to get the attention of the class. Without bothering to wait for everyone to be quiet, she spoke in a monotone and told the class to open their textbooks. The many flaps of skin that dangled from her face wobbled like jelly as she talked. She pushed her glasses further up her nose and licked her lips. There was some scarlet lipstick she wore had smudged onto her front teeth. He had always been fascinated by the way her lipstick bled into the lines of her face, like water slowly working its way through a desert. It made her look like a very old, very drab vampire who had just emerged from the shadows of her latest killing spree. Ms Blake ran through the instructions briefly, gesturing vaguely around the room to where the equipment would be, and then left them to get on with it. There was a loud scraping of chairs as everyone stood up, instantly followed by a spattering of voices like rain on an old tin roof. Ms Blake, who apparently deemed that her job was done, collapsed into the rickety office chair next to her and stared at the ceiling, unblinking.

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Inspired by Sun: Sleeping At Last

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Drinking

He watched as people slugged back shots of vodka that glistened like tears, or held glasses of champagne that sparkled like they were was toasting the stars. One exquisitely pale woman dressed in black sat in a corner alone, watching the proceedings with eyes that Alex swore held a tinge of purple, sipping from a glass of crimson liquid that Alex momentarily entertained himself with by imagining that it was blood, and she a vampire come to the best place in town to select her next victim. But thinking of blood made him think of Nick’s crimson corpse, and he felt his stomach heave as he looked away, catching the eyes of woman leaning against the counter. Her face was plastered with makeup, and the foundation she chose didn’t quite match her neck. A miniskirt hugged tight around her waist, giving way to black lace stockings ending in stiletto heels. The spaghetti straps of her fluorescent pink singlet did nothing to hide her sun-damaged shoulders, relics from a past life. She popped a strawberry-flavoured lollipop out from her glossed lips and smiled enticingly at him, able to whisper a million promises with just a single glance, and positioned herself against the counter so her skirt rode up just a little more. For a moment, Alex was tempted. He had time to kill and he felt like he deserved some fun. However, when he looked a little closer, he saw that her smile didn’t reach her deadened eyes, that the bracelets jingling from her thin wrists were not a fashion accessory but an attempt to hide the bruises that circled both of them like a warning. 

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Character Description #3

The bell rang, signalling the start of their lunch break, and James was dying to get outside. He could almost feel his lungs withering from lack of fresh air. He stood up and started to gather his things when he caught sight of Georgia, standing on the opposite side of the room, dressed in a crimson turtleneck that clung to her skin like static. She was mouthing along to the lyrics of the music playing through her earphones. The movements of her glossed lips were barely noticeable, but every now and then she would sway her hips with a snakelike grace or tap her fingers against the table in a miniature rhythm. Flashes of intense emotion crossed her face, inspired by songs that echoed her soul, but they were quickly smothered. She was clearly very conscious of the fact that other people could see her, but it was as if the electrified music was fighting the confines of her body in its mission to be heard and understood, stopped only by the idea that it generally wasn’t appropriate to stand on a table and burst into song during school hours.

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Character Description #2

It was unusual for their English teacher to be late. Although he couldn’t have been older than his mid-forties, he had a range of mannerisms that seemed to have been plucked from the Victorian era, such as the gold pocket watch he carried everywhere and his carefully curled moustache that he was clearly very proud of, though it did nothing to hide the permanent frown he wore. He was very tall and thin, like someone had grabbed both ends of him and pulled, stopping just before he snapped. To Jason’s  knowledge, no-one had seen him wear anything other than a carefully pressed, pale brown tailcoat that was done up with tarnished gold buttons. Underneath the tailcoat, he always wore a cream vest and white shirt, topped off with a dull red tie. The hems of his grey trousers brushed his deep brown shoes, polished to a high shine, and to complete the look he had a black cane with gold caps on either ends. He claimed that he needed the cane for his back problems, but Jason strongly suspected that he just liked the aesthetic and wanted to look cool. He was also a strong believer in doing things the ‘old-fashioned’ way and forbid the use of laptops in his class, which was more than enough to make most of the students hate him. Neither Jason nor Charlie disliked him though. They just thought he was eccentric, and desperately wanted to know why he seemed to have only one outfit, but they thought it rude to ask. When the teacher finally blustered into the classroom in a flurry of dropped papers, he was apologising profusely for the delay. He certainly seemed very distracted as he started picking up the sheets he had dropped, muttering incoherently to himself and running his fingers through his gelled black hair. No one got up to help him.

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Journals and stationary, whispers, feeling sleepy, browsing wikipedia for two hours, streets in foreign cities, sculptures

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Character Description #1

There was silence for a moment, and then the door opened and Grace emerged, standing on tiptoe in her eagerness. “A new friend! How exciting,” she said. If anyone else had said those words, it would have been incredibly disingenuous, but she seemed genuinely thrilled by the prospect of new companionship, her mind already brimming with the adventures she planned to have with this strange, magical human. As soon as he saw her, Jonas had the strangest urge to talk to her, to spill his guts right in front of her and reveal what he kept hidden in the crevices of his soul. But when her eyes  flickered up and down his skinny frame with a look that was as quick and sharp as the candle flame on her windowsill, Harry realised that talking to her would be pointless. With that single look, he felt as though she knew everything about his past, present, and future. She looked at him like he was a puzzle, and she had just slipped the final piece into its rightful place. When she smiled, she did it quietly, just a slight upturn at the corner of her red lips that bared the faintest shadow of crooked teeth. Her eyes were soft and cool, like half-melted chocolate ice cream, but they swirled with flecks of gold that sparkled magnificently against the darkness of her long lashes. Her right eye seemed to be bigger than her left, although that might be the angle she created when she held her head in a curious tilt, as if everything in the entire world fascinated her and she wouldn’t stop until she had pulled secrets straight from the earth’s core. The uneven bangs that hovered just above her eyebrows made it obvious that she cut her hair herself, and the rest of it tumbled to her shoulders in thick, dark, messy layers that seemed to roil and heave like the ocean.

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Hogwarts House Aesthetics 

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Desert Driving

After what felt like an eternity, he finally got to the last day of driving before he reached the coast. He woke up and drew the first dregs of morning air into his lungs before the realisation of how little distance between him and Caleb remained hit him. He flung open the door and whistled for Ravi to hop in, which it did eagerly. With adrenaline thrumming in his veins, Jonas put his foot on the accelerator and sped off, heart swelling with the thrill of the chase as the engine roared and the scenery whipped past the windows, a blur of greys and reds and greens that spun and swirled like a kaleidoscope. His fingers tightened on the steering wheel, paper skin stretched white over iron bones. He counted every second, knowing that each one brought him that much closer to the edge of the unknown. The thought made him nervous and he felt his palms starting to sweat, the liquid pooling in the crevices of his skin and making his grip uncomfortably damp and warm.

He watched as the blazing sun sank towards the horizon until it was nothing but a golden sliver setting the sky on fire. When indigo edges crept in to calm the blaze, Jonas counted the stars one by one as they appeared, wishing on every single one of them that everything would be okay. The stars rode the tides of the incoming night and gathered in clusters brimming with light, almost like they were an audience bearing witness to the madness his life had become. Jonas had never seen so many stars before. The sky seemed to bow with their weight, as if at any moment it would simply fall in and litter the earth with diamonds. Jonas rolled down the window and let the cold air sting his face to keep himself awake. He couldn’t stop now. They were so close. At this pace, they would be at the coast by daybreak, and if luck was on his side Jonas might even be on Eden’s island by this time tomorrow. He could feel every muscle in his body pulling him forwards, screaming with impatience. The adrenaline made him powerful. He was invincible. Nothing was going to stop him.

Except maybe an empty gas tank.

The car lurched underneath him, taking him completely by surprise. The engine started to sound like the cough of an eighty year old grandma who had taken up smoking at twelve, and the whole vehicle started to slow down. Before Jonas was even fully aware of what was happening, the car gently rolled to a halt and became a lifeless hunk of metal in the middle of a dusty desert. Jonas sat perfectly still for a second, hands clenched so tightly he wouldn’t be surprised if the steering wheel broke. Jonas took a deep breath and tried to relax, counting each inhale and exhale as he turned the key in the ignition over and over and over. It was no use. The car had stopped, and he had no idea how to fix it.

The world had stopped, and he had no idea how to fix it.

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A comission I did for a wonderful beautiful friend of mine based off of characters they created :)

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The Girl with Crimson Hair

There is a girl with crimson hair, azure eyes and a smattering of freckles across her face which highlights her arched cheekbones. There is a girl with crimson hair and crooked teeth that she used to hide by covering her mouth with her hand when she smiled or laughed. She doesn’t do that anymore. I like to think I had at least a small part to play in that.

There is a girl with crimson hair and random bruises on her legs that she laughs off with a slightly frantic look in her eyes. There is a girl with crimson hair and a past so checked you could play chess on the shattered fragments of what her soul once was. There is a girl with crimson hair and thoughts I could never understand. There is a girl with crimson hair and a heart that is quick to love, even though she hasn’t quite figured out what that means yet.

There is a girl with crimson hair and parts of herself hidden in shadows, facets of which are shown only to a select few. If you catch her off guard with a question, or hang around her long enough so that she trusts you to hold her when she’s broken, you might catch a glimpse of the ghosts behind her eyes and get the feeling that there are parts of her labyrinth of a mind that are diseased and decaying. Just a glimpse, though. You could spend years around the girl with the crimson hair and you would never fully see the full picture. You could ask her about it, but all you’ll get is a monotone, monochrome response.

The girl with the crimson hair is like an abstract painting, open to interpretation and questions, but no one really has the answers except for her, the artist, and every answer comes with a price you don’t realise you’re not prepared to pay until you give her what she wants. The girl with the crimson hair is a hero and a villain all at once. She will make you feel everything so you wish you could feel nothing, and the worst part of it is you can tell there is no evil in her intentions. She will rip out your heart and stomp on it right in front of you, leaving her hands and hair the same hue, and be completely unaware that she’d doing it. Not because she doesn’t care, but because the girl with the crimson hair has a very narrowed vision and will only see what helps her convince herself that she’s a good person. The moment you try to convince her otherwise, she falls apart like paper in water, and you find yourself desperately apologising and trying to put her back together and you hate yourself for ruining something so beautiful.

You will wish that you could siphon away the bad in the girl with the crimson hair, to protect her as much as yourself, but you can’t. You can take her smiles and her laughter and her casual jokes and innocence, but then you have to take the broken parts and her tears and her anger and carelessness. You wish you could be a good person and love her the way she is, but there are some things you will never be sure of, and one of them is how you feel about the girl with the crimson hair.

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Ice Girls: always too cold, would die for you, rumpled bedsheets, coloured hair, soft skin, leggings, coupon game strong, secret love for violets, doesn’t really care about school, marble, sarcasm, late nights, architecture, silver rings, lying in fields, probably pansexual, spare chane, road trips, usually has a pack of wintergreen gum on hand