#the smoke ring in the shape of a heart lmao

[hauntingblue]

Franky entertaining the children... I know that's right...

[penny-anna]

for the writing prompts game thing, 19

if you want input for the fandom, maybe lord of the rings/the hobbit. if not just disregard this part lmao

hello!! i am very late w this!! u get surprise daemon au.

(on ao3!)

They’d been running for over a day. It felt like a hundred years. The air smelled like damp and unwashed bodies. The mud squished beneath his feet. Everything hurt – his legs, head, lungs, wrists –

Worst of all, the lingering ache around his heart.

When they’d seen Boromir struck with the first arrows, he’d felt Windflower bristling beside him. Ready, he’d known instinctively, to turn into something big with teeth and fangs and pounce and damn the consequences. He’d taken a step forward –

Then a feeling had gone through him.

A cold sick feeling that ran down his spine and back up to his skull and settled in his stomach as a hideous nauseous wrongness and he’d frozen and choked and staggered. It felt like a hand rummaging around inside his guts. It felt like the heavy choking smell of smoke and the taste of blood in his mouth and a thousand voices shouting and his legs gave out under him as he retched.

He’d forced himself to look over his shoulder, already knowing what he’d see. Windflower, stoat-shaped and writing in orcish hands, writhing and biting and spitting and too terrified to change. Nearby he heard a voice yelling her name; then he heard nothing more.

Windflower was a beetle now, hidden safely in his hood. It was a fragile shape, but one too small to put a hand on. She could go smaller still if she had to. It was safer to look as if he didn’t have a dæmon.

Merry wasn’t so lucky. Grumpy was running alongside him, struggling to keep up. She was usually faster than him with her injured leg she was starting to flag. With his hands bound Merry couldn’t try to carry her. It was only a matter of time.

She went down. She must have tripped on a rock or a root because she went down hard, snout first into the mud and the shock of it knocked Merry down too. Pippin skidded to a halt in the mud, heart hammering. He felt a tickle of insect legs as Windflower curled in still closer against his neck.

“What’s happened?” barked a voice. It was Uglúk.

“The fox won’t run,” called back one of his orcs.

Merry was getting up, or trying to. Grumpy was struggling, unable to put her weight on a front leg. Merry’s eyes widened at the side of Uglúk pushing his way roughly through the mob. Then his face set, and he stepped in front of his dæmon.

“What’s wrong with your animal? Huh?” Uglúk said. “Can’t keep pace?”

Grim-faced, Merry said nothing. Grumpy was on her feet, just about. Pippin looked from one to the other, growing frantic. He didn’t know what an orc would do, with a dæmon that couldn’t run – if they might try to hurt her, or worse leave her behind –

“She’s hurt,” he blurted out.

Around them, orcs snickered. And Merry looked at him, eyes bleak, and belatedly he understood why they’d been hiding the injury.

“Hurt, is it?” Uglúk shoved Merry aside, ignoring his cry of protest, and Pippin’s heart sank as he brought out his orcish healing salve.

“No.” Merry made a move towards her, but an orc grabbed his arm. “No –”

Pippin saw what was coming and he knew raw and recent how it felt, and he braced himself – and then Merry yelled.

Orcs didn’t have dæmons. Once upon a time it would have been easy to think that meant they didn’t care. But he’d spent enough time with elves and dwarves and wizards to know it wasn’t so.

It wasn’t that they didn’t feel. It could be that they didn’t know. It was hard to say, as Merry went quiet and Grumpy went limp and unresisting in Uglúk’s grip, if this was an act of wilful cruelty. To any man or the decent thing to do – even for one’s worse enemy – would have been to hand over the healing salve and let them do it themselves. But how would an orc learn a thing like that?

At last, Uglúk dropped Grumpy to the ground. She climbed, shakily but more steadily, to her feet. Her injured leg was taking her weight. The orc let go of Merry’s arm and he stumbled to her side. They stood together, hurting, but whole.

Uglúk barked, “Move out.”

[cdroloisms]

more of the ghost!dream au!! still no good names for it, sorry (feel free to give me recs? maybe?) - picking off right where we left off here [x]. i’ve gotten quite a bit of this pre-written already as well as quite a bit planned - it’s definitely one of my favorite universes at the minute and something im really excited to show yall !! 

tw: death, memory loss (?), grief, unhealthy coping mechanisms, unhealthy relationship, grief, emotional distress, implied torture/abuse, aftermath of prison arc/pandora’s vault, dark(ish?) portrayal of c!sam (he’s one of the main figures of this au lmao but it grapples quite a bit w/ what he did in pandora)

Sam had only met Ghostbur once.

He never knew the former president well, had been busy with his own base during the Revolution and came back to the server in chaos after an ill-fated election and the man exiled. It hadn’t mattered, much, at the time; Wilbur was an imposing man, even in others’ recollections of him, and their words left very very little to the imagination. From what he knew, Wilbur was a smart man, cunning and silver-tongued, brimming with an unending fountain of belief that he could change the world with his words and his words alone; the server, overrun with memories of scuffles and battles and wars and countries Sam had not been around to remember, only seemed to serve as proof that he could. The few glimpses of the man that he managed to catch showed dark, tired eyes, a figure that stood almost as tall as he did, lips twisted in a perpetual tight-lipped smile.

Even as he spiraled, unexplainably, whispers of madness chasing the wind and landing in choppy fragments in the Badlands meetings held over Skeppy and Bad’s dinner table, those eyes never became less piercing, never failed to seem like they were burning through whatever and whoever they looked at. Sam hadn’t been the subject of that stare many times, but he remembers the bone-deep anxiety from having those eyes on him, even now.

Ghostbur, somehow, was the complete opposite; where his eyes had once been all-too knowing, belying their owners’ intelligence, a ruthless penchant for analysis that would split bone from marrow with a single sharp-edged glance, the phantom’s eyes were completely vacant. Instead of the glossy whites and rings of brown that would flicker warm to cool and warm again without warning, there was only an empty, all-encompassing blue.

He had floated over to Sam following a particularly difficult- session, with the prisoner, greeting him with an airy call of his name as Sam set off to his base for the night. He’d startled, then, still fresh off the adrenaline that was sent coursing through his veins each time he entered those blackstone walls, and started a sort of easy, unfocused conversation as they went along the path to the nether portal.

Ghostbur was - off, for the lack of a better word, even with Sam’s lack of familiarity of either side of the man - who he’d been before and what he’d become. His memories slipped through his mind like water seeping through fingers, and his attention span didn’t seem much better. Still, Sam listened to that echoing, otherworldly voice, nodded along as he eagerly recounted his day - or what he could recall from it, at least, until his feet had brought him along the same well-worn path to the nether portal, spitting purple sparks into the night.

“I’ll have to be going, Ghostbur,” he’d said through a thin smile, muscles aching under netherite as he pulled his shoulders back. The ghost’s head had cocked to the side, watching him with empty eyes, hands outstretched in front of him, palms up.

“Sam-” the ghost blinked slowly, “Are you sad?”

Sam froze. Ghostbur stared at him, face still kept in that same blank expression, eyes still an endless blanket of blue, but something - in his stance, perhaps, in the echoes of his words as they reverberated off of nothing, felt familiar, felt like looking up expecting a window and coming face to face with a shattered mirror - before the phantom’s face broke out in a weightless smile.

“Have some blue!”

The blue was dropped unceremoniously into his hands as he fumbled the catch and nearly let it fall to the ground; the clear, glassy surface of it tainted blue by his fingertips, the color swirling and darkening in his hands. He watched it, mesmerized, as blossoms of blue bloomed beneath his skin; his feelings, sharp-edged, became sea glass tossed in its shifting waves, smoothed, numbed, slowly sucked away in a pulsing chorus of blue blue blue-

“That’s quite a lot of blue,” Ghostbur chirped, and Sam blinked at the thing in his hands - navy, the same color as the sky above their heads clinging to the last remnants of twilight - “Would you like some more?”

“...no thanks, Ghostbur,” Sam looked back up, feeling through the new, blue-tinged fog in his brain, memories blurred at the edges but lacking the same burning sting of regret, “Good night.”

“Good night, Sam!” Wilbur smiled, blank blue eyes trained on his face even as Sam stepped into the portal and the world swirled away. “See you soon!”

---

“Sammy,” Dream walked - no, floated, forwards as Sam took a step back, unresponsive, “is there something wrong?”

Sam swallowed, mouth suddenly dry.

He was a spitting image to Dream as he first knew him; the same tousled hair, freckled face, down to the ratty old jacket that he’d insisted on wearing at all times, made of a garish shade of lime-green and covered in customized patches that Bad - unable to resist his puppy eyes - had always ended up fixing the thing with. He had a gap in his teeth that had left him with a lisp for weeks back then, prompting Sapnap’s teasing much to Dream’s annoyance; his head tipped to the side, curious, familiar, and something deep inside Sam’s chest ached.

“Dream-” he tried, chest tightening further when the ghost’s face broke out into a brilliant smile, “why are you here?”

Why do you remember me?

He hadn’t talked to Ghostbur much, but he’d heard, to some degree, about how the ghost operated, how his memories were inconsistent at best, seemingly dependent on the emotions he’d attached to them while alive. How he went through the world in a state of unshakable bliss at the cost of his mind. Dream’s memories of him should’ve been anything but happy; why was he here?

“What do you mean?” Dream blinked at him, eyebrows scrunched, lips set in a small frown. His eyes, black and vacant, seemed to swallow all light, even with the sun streaming through the branches. “Where am I suppos’d to go?”

“Don’t you want to be with George and Sapnap?”

Dream’s face was blank, and the pit in Sam’s gut grew deeper. “Who’s that?”

“George?” Sam could feel his voice begin to tremble, eyes widening. “Sapnap? You know them, right?”

“No?” Dream drew out the word, looking at him like he’d grown another head. “Should I know them?”

“Should you- Dream, this isn’t funny- they’re your best friends! They were your best friends- Pandas? Do you know Pandas?”

“You mean like in the jungles? I haven’t been in a jungle before, Sam, d’you think we could visit one?”

“No- Pandas, do you-” Dream only looked at him with the same confused, uncomprehending expression, not even a flicker of recognition in his face; Sam could hear his heart thudding in his ears, a distant horror growing and wrapping around his throat, “How about Ponk? Alyssa? Calla? Bad?”

Each name did nothing to change the blankness on Dream’s face, the screaming thoughts in Sam’s head growing to a fever pitch when the ghost in front of him shook his head, hair whipping back and forth.

“Nope!” His hands tugged at his hoodie sleeves, the movement familiar in a way that had echoes of long-forgotten memories drifting to the surface, holding his heart in a chokehold and squeezing tight. “Are they your friends?”

“Dream,” he stepped forward - felt a shadow of a pickaxe held in his fists, the shape of the name in his mouth bringing forth the taste of iron and smoke and painting the inside of his eyelids red - and stopped in his tracks. The images melted away, left just a kid standing in front of him, rocking back and forth on nothing, and Sam was going to be sick.

“Who do you remember?”

Dream smiled as the question registered, directing a look of such open, unadulterated adoration his way that it stole all of the air from Sam’s lungs.

“You, dummy!” He laughed, airy and light. “Who else?”

---

He brought him to his base, because what else was he supposed to do?

Dream skipped behind him, entirely enamoured with Fran; he watched as she melted under his enthusiastic scratches at the tufts of fur at her neck. He’d always been a soft touch with animals, had brought home stray mobs more than a few times as a kid; Sam swallowed around his unease and trudged forward.

“Puppy!” He nearly screeched with laughter, and Sam looked back to see Dream with his arms wrapped around Fran’s neck, face buried in her fur as giggles made his shoulders shake. Fran gave him a sloppy lick on the cheek, making him break out into a new round of high-pitched wheezes, “Good girl! Good puppy!”

“Hurry up, Dream,” Sam turned away. “We don’t have all day.”

“Oh- m’sorry,” Dream’s voice quieted, almost seemed to wobble, and Sam bit down on his tongue as they continued to walk back. He- didn’t know what to do, not with this version of Dream, not the little kid he’d half-forgotten instead of the masked monster he’d become so accustomed to. It was so much easier to slip into the mask, let his voice drop cold and deep and empty, the role of the Warden heavy and comfortable like a set of netherite armor. He pointedly kept his eyes staring forward, looking for the edge of the forest they’d ended up stuck in so he could finally see.

A sudden, yipping bark came from behind, thoroughly startling him and sending a sword appearing in a flash of white. He huffed at Fran, looking at him with faux innocent eyes, really?

Unfortunately, both she and Dream had somehow fallen ridiculously behind, the ghost having lowered to the ground at some point as Fran sat and wagged her tail. He rolled his eyes, making his way back towards the duo, feeling irritation press in the form of a headache against the front of his skull.

“Come on,” he muttered, wincing at how clipped his words sounded, even in his own ears. Not the same Dream, Sam. You’re not in the prison anymore. He shoved his hands into his pockets, eyes narrowing as he came closer; Dream hadn’t just stopped because of some distraction, as he first assumed. The kid was leaning against Fran, hands twisted loosely in her fur, head tipped forward and leaning against her body.

“Dream?”

The ghost looked up at his voice, one hand going to rub at his eye. His hair seemed to be moving around less than earlier, lips twisted in a small frown.

“M’sleepy, Sammy,” he mumbled around a yawn, bottom lip jutting out in a pout. He reached both hands up, palms facing the sky, as he stared expectantly. “Up.”

Aren’t you a little big to be carried? The retort came to mind as easily as breathing, echoed in his own head by his own voice, younger, exasperated but fond. His arms shook with the memory of a kid wrapping his arms around his neck and fumbling with his crown, with the feeling of a dead weight resting against the crook of his elbows, tall and lanky and far too light for its size, held in his arms one final time-

“Please?”

Sam shook his head.

“We’re walking to my base. Come on.”

[ethereal-jule]

The Basics ––– –

Name: Julian ‘Jules’ Salvez

Age: 28

Birthday: 29th Sun of the 1st Astral Moon

Race: Veena Viera

Gender: Male (He/They)

Sexuality: Demiromantic Gay

Marital Status: Single

Physical Appearance ––– –

Hair: White, ever so slightly pink on the tips

Eyes: ice blue

Height: 6′1

Build: Lithe

Distinguishing Marks: beauty mark on left cheek, x shaped scar across throat

Common Accessories: several rings he’s had for years, always worn together.

Personal ––– –

Profession: Healer, Sell sword

Hobbies: Reading and writing, alchemy, exploring, jewelry crafting, astrology, playing music

Languages: Eorzean common,

Residence: Ishgard, though travels enough that it hardly matters

Birthplace: Skatay Range

Religion: The Twelve

Patron Deity: Halone, the Fury

Fears: loss of free will, blindness, not being good enough

Relationships ––– -

Spouse: None

Children: None

Parents:  Menra Salvez (step-mother) Eris Salvez (mother) Unknown (father)

Siblings: Linna Salvez (twin sister) Frel Salvez (half-brother) Elaine Salvez (half-sister)

Other Relatives:  Carla Salvez (Aunt)

Pets: None

Traits ––– -

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized

Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between / Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard-working / In Between / Lazy

Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

Loyal  / In Between / Disloyal

Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful  

Additional information ––– –

Smoking Habit: No, thinks its gross Drugs: hard pass. Alcohol: a little socially, a lot when depressed, no any other time.

RP Hooks ––– –

Astrologian: Have ties in Ishgard or to the Astrologian guild? you might have seen him around a couple times- alternatively, if you need a healer or a traveling companion-! uh, well, he might be hard to recruit- but i’m sure its worth it?

Quite the critic: Jules takes his hobbies and professions quite seriously, and is not shy about acting aggressively towards anyone who shares them and takes them in a ‘less serious’ manner. however if you ARE better then him, he’ll take it as a challenge- so theres really not a lot of winning with this guy initially.

Not totally heartless: Despite his prickly and cold nature, he’s not one to just stand by and watch someone die. are you a little reckless? maybe get in over your head, or lost out in a storm? if he’s around, odds are he’ll feel compelled to assist.

4: Avid reader: Being a collector of books, Jules spends a lot of time in libraries or bookstores in places around his travels- its quite possible to run into him there.

5: Bard at heart: Before moving to ishgard, Jules’ was a bard- he still loves playing music, and is well versed in things such as archery as a result. though he focuses more on healing then combat himself now, he’s still quite capable. He has a few acquaintances in the archers guild for such reasons.

6: Can’t resist a pretty face: While not much of a flirt, he often finds himself rather disgruntled and thrown off by pretty men. Wanna see a socially awkward asshole puff himself up like a frustrated bird in front of your flirty male muse? hmu lmao

Contact Information  ––– –

hey hey, i’m cobalt! this is my second RP blog for FFXIV, and im mainly looking for interactions here on tumblr or on discord <3 This blog is still being set up for the time being~

Tumblr: you are here. follows from @azure-seadragon!~ Steam: The_Vampires_Wife   Discord: given on request!!!

[ayyyez]

Omg last call!! Can I request Genma or Kakashi (or both🤔🤔) having a close friend but everyone thinks that they are kind of a thing? You can turn it to whatever you feel right

Tagging @shiranuigenma for obvious reasons lmao hope I do you proud <3

Genma Shiranui 

Genma had always believed that true attraction came from good conversation.

It was the meaning behind such an idea that changed and morphed throughout the years.

When Genma was a child, growing up alongside you at the academy, he thought it meant that crushes came from people he could talk to. And by talk to he meant people he could get a couple sentences in with and they would acknowledge them. 

It was as simple as that.

His crushes tended to change with the weather. But even he had to admit that dating back then was just sitting with different people during breaks. It was just something to pass the time.

The one person that he always sat with no matter what was you.

When he became of age the meaning behind those words changed again. It took on a new meaning as new desires overcame him. 

Genma struggled to find where he belonged so he moved from bed to bed. His words started to taste bitter. Their meaning became hollow as he twirled his senbon, recanting his usual lines and wearing his flirtatious mask. 

You would always be there to keep him company when he lucked out. 

‘You still haven’t asked them out?’ 

The words are small in length but the meaning behind them spread deep inside Genma. They unrooted the deepest desires inside his heart. Desires once hidden long ago.

Now the meaning behind such a conviction changed again. 

He finds himself taking the familiar route to your place. The moon seems to shine more brightly than usual. His heart beats a little too fast. Adrenaline pumps through his veins. 

What is this feeling? 

‘You still haven’t asked them out?’ The words ring in his mind.

When he is with you his gaze keeps drawing to your lips. 

A urge builds within him. He wants to ask you for everything. Wishes for you to open your heart to him; to tell him every little thing on your mind and trust in him. 

He wants to kiss you.

But Genma doesn’t trust himself.

You’re laughing at a memory the two of you share. Your head is thrown back, your hand clutching his thigh for support. He feels hot. The feelings inside of him are unlike anything he has felt before. 

He stands upright, rigid and awkward. 

You ask what’s wrong.

Genma mumbles something about the bathroom and locks himself inside. 

His hands are shaking as they clutch the sink basin. The running water helps drown out your concerns on the other side of the door. He blinks as he can barely recognise his own reflection in the mirror.  

Genma had always believed that true attraction came from good conversation. But love, he realises standing in your bathroom, came from a thousand good conversations. Conversations he never wants to end. 

You have been the one constant in his life.

The hinges squeak as he pulls the door open with the full force of his new found conviction. 

You’re standing a few feet from him. Your lips part. You’re about to say something when he realises that he can’t stand you not knowing anymore.

He’s suffocating and he needs it out in the open in order to breathe. 

‘I love you.’ 

He says it with a breathless quality, like he has been holding it in for a lifetime. 

You snort.

It’s not rejection but it feels unsettling. 

‘I know.’ You reply, finally. ‘I love you too...minus the existential crisis.’ 

It is Genma’s turn to laugh, taking his senbon between his fingers as he approaches you. You look up at him with expectation in your eyes. One that has built up for many years. 

When he kisses you he finally realises that this is where he belongs. 

Kakashi Hatake

There is something unusual between you and Kakashi. 

There always has been. The way the two of you met, became friends and everything since then. 

The two of you met during the anbu when you fell on top of him during a mission. The two of you were given missions that led to the same lead. You knew right away that it was fate.

The universe had planned for you two. 

Kakashi was indifferent to you at first. It wasn’t anything special since he was indifferent to everyone but something about you stuck in his mind. 

Years of missions together during saw the two of you become friends. 

Even in the foggiest of days Kakashi could recognise the red markings of your anbu mask. He memorised the contours and the shape. Knowing always which animal hid your face away. 

He longed to see your face. You longed to make him smile.

The two of you were carved from the same earth to fit into one mould. 

Whenever he was feeling particularly dejected you came to give him the world. At first it was merely light words that disappeared like smoke evaporating in the air. But then they began to sink into his skin and pump into his heart like drops of blood. 

Your touch soon followed. 

At first your fingertips felt like sharp needles against his skin.

It wasn’t that your hands were rough, quite the opposite really. It’s that your touch scared him. But very quickly it changed and stars seemed to burst from your fingertips every time you caressed him. 

The two of you were a star system all on your own. 

The feelings Kakashi had kept bottled began to bubble. It wasn’t long before they burst open and overflowed into his every thought and feeling.

He held you dear and he couldn’t bear to lose you. 

The friendship between the two of you blossomed into something new. The flowers continued to grow. Kakashi softened his harsh outlook on the world and you seemed to find new meaning in life.

It didn’t occur to Kakashi that it could be something more.

You knew the universe had plans but you also knew Kakashi. Pulling him closer usually resulted in pushing him away. So you guided him slowly and carefully, letting him come to terms with gravity on his own. 

It’s an offhanded comment from a friend that plants the idea in Kakashi’s mind. 

‘The two of you aren’t dating?’

How could someone with such a dark interior like him date? 

But now he can’t get the idea out of his mind. Every time the two of you are together and darkness overcomes him, you point out the stars as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. 

He falls for you effortlessly—like it was the most natural thing in the world.

The feeling is so overwhelming he can’t take it anymore. He needs closure. He needs something. Anything. 

He goes to you and tells you ‘This is who I am.’

And you curl yourself around him, the perfect fit—you are cut from the same earth after all. 

He finally realises that the universe really did plan for you two as soon as the words ‘I love who you are.’ leave your lips. 

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

water fountains

and we have my fave lil pairing jasabeth ugh i adore these two so much okay they just make me so happy!

also this fic was based entirely off the song “Water Fountain” by Alec Benjamin. like i changed the song into a fic lmao. (it’s linked below)

[all images have alt text]

Five years ago

The cold wraps around his lungs, makes his skin a burnished red, makes his breath puff dragon smoke, makes him huddle further into himself. But he has to be here, has to sit at this exact park bench, watching the water in the water fountain slosh around and hear the distinct lack of animals that usually scurry and squawk about. Because this is where she will be, this is where they will meet.

The night is fast creeping up on them and the cold only gets colder, becomes malicious instead of refreshing. He dreams of the fireplace, of steaming tea, of warm hands on his neck, in his hair. He dreams of comfort. When he blinks it is too dark to see clearly, too light to be hidden. And walking towards him, blonde curls lifting in the icy wind is Annabeth Chase. The white bobble beanie looks snug over her unruly hair, her always cold ears. She's bundled in more layers than onions. He gets up from the bench already moving to reach her.

They meet in slow motion. They collide like light. Her hands in his coat, seeking his warmth, his arms wrapped around her completely, little hat-bobble tickling his cheek. She fits against him, he moulds around her. They are artist and clay. Strong hands and smooth surface. Determined, some would call it. Love, the whisper too close.

She says something into his chest, and it rumbles across his skin, muffled and breathy.

“Again?” He laughs.

“How are you so warm?”

Fun thing about Annabeth, she hates the cold. She’d rather sit on the sun than feel the dark side of the moon. He is her personal heater. He is her fire and her scarf and her tea and the regulator of her cold. He is her warmth.

“My body senses you’re coming and turns up the heat.” He teases into her head, leaving soft kisses on the wooly material of her beanie.

They don’t say anything. The world gets darker, dark enough that the streetlights are more effective than the dying sun. He feels the wind bite his ankles. He feels Annabeth’s heart smack against his ribcage.

“Why did you want to meet me?”

She finally unglues herself from him, barely. Her head tilts back, he tilts down. They’re sunflowers leaning towards each other. Shaky breaths leave her. He knows because the condensation is stuttered, falling and rising.

“I love you.”

His entire body collapses from within. Concaves so drastically he stumbles forward. She goes with him, still caught between his arms. The fountain presses against her legs and she shivers at the cold.

“I love you, not them.”

Present

Jason Grace walks down the cobbled street, barely glancing up as he hurries to the cafe where his friends await. He passes a fountain, old and rusted, and in great need of some maintenance. He hears the water swirling, the pipes creaking. There are no ducks wading in it. It is far too cold, winter setting in like a practiced tenant.

He sees a couple swishing past him, laughing as they collapse onto a bench, hands reaching reaching reaching.

There’s a flicker of something beneath his ribcage, awakening and dying. A phoenix too weak to rise. A fire too dead to rekindle.

His hands, numb from the cold, twitch as he remembers what he shouldn’t. The jagged edge of hips, the soft curve of a spine, always cold ears.

His phone rings, and he realises he’s slowed to a crawl as his memory takes him down another road, far removed from this one.

“Jason,” He mutters.

“Where are you dude?”

“On my way.”

Too young, he thinks, with one final glance at the fountain. They fell in love too young, and couldn’t find their way back.

He walks into the coffee shop. There are his friends, huddled in a booth. He sees golden blonde curls under a white bobbled beanie. His heart constricts. Blood races. Mouth dry like he’s drank bucketfuls of ocean water. 

She turns around. He wants to cry. He walks to his friends.

It isn’t her. It never is.

He’ll build a water fountain in his house, name it Athena. Maybe it’ll be enough to call her back. He’ll throw a coin in and wish her safe returns. Returns to him, to his arms, to his warmth. He’s been so cold for so long.

He wonders if she has a new heater, in a different shape, different set of eyes, different clay moulding to her. He wonders if they’re as warm.

“Did you hear Annabeth is back in town?”

He's an inferno.

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

[domesticmail]

scrapes

pairing: jj maybank x reader

word count: fuck if i know lmao

requested: nope!

summary: idk how i’d explain this one. reader is frustrated that the pogues keep treating her like a baby, so she takes things into her own hands, and when she gets hurt, things come to a head in the kitchen of The Chateau

warnings: ANGST. cursing, blood, and ANGST BABY ANGST

a/n: starts quick, gets sad/angry, ends content and kinda happy! also for reference the Pogues are all 17 and the reader is 16 here!! might make this a multiple part fic, who knows !!

Your feet hit the ground, rubber soles slamming against pavement. Broken pieces of road and rubble crunch under your feet. The sound of pebbles cracking under your weight is lost in the commotion of noises, your heart throwing itself against your ribcage, the friction of your hand sliding against a wall, cold air blowing in and out of your lungs.

Splinters embed in your skin as you scramble up the fence, wood cutting into the meat of your thigh. As your body hits the dirt, you swear you can feel the wound opening, blood painting the ground. A ringing fills your ears, but there’s not room in your schedule today to worry about that - you’re on a bit of a time constraint here, if you hadn’t noticed. With that in your mind, the panic of falling behind floods your veins, and you’re up again, sneakers throwing dirt and rocks in your wake as you high-tail it away from your bad decision.

Shouts come from behind you, telling you to stop, but clearly they haven’t gotten the message: you’re not sticking around. You round the corner and haul ass down a few twists and turns before finding your final destination, a friend’s house. You burst through the front entrance and slam it shut, leaning back against the front door, chest heaving.

John B. raises an eyebrow at you. “Woah. Hey, Y/N.”

You don’t respond - you’re busy doing that mental-checklist thing you always do.

Shoes? Ratty old converse, several years old, scuffed on the sides - but they were like that before. Check.

Cut on your leg? Not too big, hurts like a bitch, though. Can be fixed with a towel, rubbing alcohol, and some pressure. Check.

Any other cuts? Some splinters in your palms, yes, but nothing else major. Thank fuck.

A pat of your back pocket reveals that your wallet is still there, secure. Your earrings - still there. Phew. Necklace didn’t break or fall off when you hopped the fence? It’s still dangling around your neck, holy shit. Check. 

Aside from the cut and some flecks of dirt dug into the arm you landed on, you’re in remarkably good shape for someone running from hired security.

You shoot a grin at John B., who’s now been joined in his confusion by the rest of the group: Kie and Sarah looking worried, Pope looking exasperated and mildly concerned, and JJ looking very, very confused. Walking past them to the kitchen, you start rooting around for supplies to clean up your leg. Nobody’s said anything yet, and you know why. It’s not common for you to come home like this, out of breath, roughed up a little, bleeding. You can feel them holding their tongues, waiting for you to explain.

The silence stretches into uncomfortable territory. You’re too busy trying to fix your cut to care, really. You know what comes next, anyway - you’ve seen them do it to JJ about a thousand times. The quiet, palpable tension of concern, and then the inevitable eruption.

Just as you expect, as soon as you hop up on the counter and begin your at-home wound treatment, showing no signs of speaking first, everyone explodes at once.

John B. “So no explanation? You’re just gonna walk in here like this is normal?”

Kie. “What the hell, Y/N? We didn’t know where you were! You could’ve died!”

Pope. “That’s a huge cut, what is wrong with you? What were you doing that was so stupid you got a cut like that?”

Sarah. “We were so worried! You weren’t picking up! Are you okay?”

And, of course, JJ. “Who did this to you?”

You’re applying pressure to your leg (fuck, fuck, ow, fuck, shit, bitch, motherfucker no thank you, ow), listening to your friends voice their concerns, when something hits you - JJ thinks someone hurt you?

More importantly, why is JJ so angry about it?

You’d been expecting him to be the least concerned, to give you a high five or a compliment or at least a proud grin, but no, you’re facing anger, frustration, radiating off of him. This is unprecedented - you never thought you guys were close like that.

Don’t get it wrong, you’re close with all the Pogues, just as family as the rest of them - JJ just isn’t really your person. You tend to be glued to Sarah and Kie at the hips, tagging along with them when it’s not a whole-group outing, so their worry makes sense. (You usually tell them everything, like sisters, but a two-day long excursion to do some very reckless shit hadn’t felt like something you should tell them. They’d just try to convince you not to go, and you were having none of that, two mornings ago.) But JJ? If anything, you were each other’s least favorite Pogues. The youngest and maybe the most reckless of the group (excluding Pope), you’re typically the one who reminds JJ of all the stuff that can go wrong with his ideas and schemes. You would think he’d be glad to see you get into a bit of trouble.

But there he is, jaw clenched, those eyes fixed directly on yours. His neck’s gone all tight (you’ve been around him long enough to know that only happens when he’s angry; it’s a little endearing, actually, a little cute), the hand not placed protectively on your knee clenching into a fist laid on the counter. And there’s something in that touch, the way he’s got his hand on your knee - there’s affection there, emotion, something you’ve never felt from JJ before.

All of a sudden, it’s like the greatest hyperfixation in the world is JJ’s hands. They’re not soft, necessarily, not the type of hand you want to hold just because it feels like it’s gentle and kind. Maybe that’s why you’re so drawn to this weird, unexpected touch. You can feel the callouses on his palm pressing into the pink, scraped (oh, you missed a spot in your checklist, your knees look wrecked from that fall over the fence; probably shouldn’t do that again) flesh of your knee, the pads of his fingertips pulling your attention away from the group and to him.

To put it lightly: it’s a very intimate three seconds.

You want to disappear for a second, want to vanish in a puff of smoke and not exist, because the intensity with which he’s looking at you is scary. Not like you’ve done something wrong, but like whoever he thinks did this to you is going to pay, and pay a hefty fee at that.

You don’t like it. Not at all. You would do anything - anything - for him to never look at you like that. Like he’s going to kill someone.

“What - Nobody did this to me, JJ,” you scoff, matching his intense gaze with an annoyed look. “If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine.”

He doesn’t look convinced. “You’re covering up for them. What did they say they’d do to you? I’ll do worse to them, Y/N, I swear, just tell me who did it.”

You scowl at him, scooting over to move your knee from his hand. This isn’t about you and JJ - this is about you wanting to prove yourself. This is about you showing them you’re not a baby. That you can handle yourself. Not that you need JJ to get all weird and protective over you. “I did this, JJ, back off. I don’t need you to be weird about it.”

The rest of the group has been quiet, but John B. pipes up. “He’s not being weird about anything. We were all worried.”

“I don’t need you guys to be worried about me. I’m fine.”

“You’re not fucking fine, you have a fucking cut on your leg - “

“I’m fine, JJ - “

“If you were okay you wouldn’t be fucking bleeding, Y/N - “

“Will you stop acting like I’m a child for two seconds? Nobody did this, it wasn’t Topper or Rafe or - “

It’s like a lightbulb goes on in JJ’s head. “It was Rafe, wasn’t it? I’ll fucking kill him, he has no right to put his hands on you - “

“JJ, shut the fuck up!”

He looks at you in stunned silence, leaning back a little as though your words had physically struck him. 

You’re fuming now, blood running hot. This is exactly why you didn’t tell them your plan - they’d start with this shit. The constant babying. You understand, they’re seventeen, you’re sixteen, you’re younger and they want to protect you, but jesus christ, it’s not like they had some worldly experience - they’re seventeen years old, for fuck’s sake. “Don’t use my actions as a reason for you to go beat up Rafe, JJ. I’m not a fucking excuse for you to get in a fight. I did this for a reason, so how about you leave me alone and let me get to it instead of acting like I’m a fucking child?”

Everyone is silent.

The group looks actually stunned, like they’ve all been sucker-punched. Where the hell did this come from? You’ve never yelled like that. You’ve never yelled, period. You’re never the angry one - you’re the quiet one, the one who would rather be helping at The Wreck or on the HMS Pogue than be at the Boneyard at a kegger. 

JJ, after the initial shock, looks even angrier now. He pulls away from you and storms off, running a hand through his blond hair. The sound of his shoes on the hardwood floor echoes through The Chateau, and you sit on the counter quietly, tears filling your eyes.

Not tears of sadness, though. You’re not sad.

You’re fucking angry. At all of them. For bringing you here. For pushing you to this point. For making you feel like a child. 

“You treat me like a kid,” you say quietly, but with force, scowling at your tears.

Sarah’s the first to approach, wrapping her arms around you softly. You want to push her away, to refuse the affection, but you don’t. You just accept the distance, reluctantly hugging her, resting your head on her shoulder and just breathing, breathing, breathing. Maybe the tears’ll go away if you just breathe.

Pope is the next, not Kie. (She’s still surprised that you yelled. The indignation of being yelled at is fading, her initial annoyance becoming gentle concern.) He envelops you and Sarah.

Kie joins next, and then John B., and it’s when you feel his hand on your back that your breathing, breathing, breathing, becomes choked sob after choked sob, cries wracking your body into Sarah’s shoulder. You feel like you’re breaking down into them all, like the anger is pouring out of you like a waterfall, just gushing and gushing and gushing. It’s so frustrating, so difficult, so annoying, you just can’t deal with it anymore.

You don’t know how long you’ve been crying when your sobs recede their way to gentle hiccups. Your face is dry from the tears, and when everyone pulls away, you see tears in Sarah’s eyes. She offers you a weak smile, one you return.

There’s a conversation then, right there in the kitchen. It’s not one full of anger, or sadness, or anything especially negative. It’s just tired. The words float out of your mouth - “I’m sorry” - and it’s like you’re disconnected from yourself. It lasts maybe twenty minutes, apologizing from all ends, promises to do better, and at the end, you feel so full of love that you’re nearly bursting at the seams. We’re family, we love each other, you could’ve just told us if we were being frustrating, reassurances floating their way through your head like water, pushing out all the anger. 

You don’t know how you ended up on the hammock with the rest of the group - excluding JJ - one arm thrown across John B., snuggled in with Pope, legs resting on Sarah and Kie’s, who are laying together the opposite way. The warmth of the sun on your arms and your friends around you is lulling you to sleep slowly, the hammock swinging gently from side to side.

You know you’re going to have to talk to JJ.

But you’re falling asleep now, and you’re losing your train of thought quickly, words floating into oblivion.

You’ll talk to JJ tomorrow.

For now, you’re going to sleep.

[bugaboosandbees]

The Unintended Consequences of a Desperate Wish ~ Part 1

So. I have to take a polymer chemistry final tomorrow and I should really be studying as it's my hardest exam this semester, but this plot bunny would not let me CONCENTRATE lmao. I blame everyone for writing awesome mlb x dc crossovers and maribat stuff for this. Now, have a freaking gigantic prolouge to a maribat story of my own. Fair warning, this starts with the final battle between Hawkmoth and our heroes and will invlove a fair amount of blood and danger. Please tell me what you think!

After five years of fighting, five years of lying to her friends and her family, of sacrificing her dreams, her time, her grades and her sleep, the final battle had come. It wasn’t planned -- despite their best efforts, she and Chat hadn’t managed to determine the identities of Hawkmoth and Mayura. No -- it had been a seemingly random day when the two villains and the ever-loyal Volpina come out in force, raining havoc down upon the city and leaving Marinette no time to get away from the battle to call for their allies. Blood from a gash to her forehead dripped into her eyes as she curled her arms protectively around her partner.

Her heart had stopped when she’d heard his scream. She’d been grappling with Mayura, close to grasping the older woman’s miraculous when she’d turned to see Hawkmoth withdrawing his weapon from her partner’s chest with a wet squelching sound. Nonononononono. Her lucky charm had given her some strange red and black spheres -- when she’d broken them against the ground, they’d filled the gardens at the Trocadero with enough noxious smoke that she’d been able to force her body to move, snatching up Chat who had fallen to his knees and was making the most awful wet gasping sounds. She sprung away from the fight as fast as she could -- the only thought in her mind to get her Chaton, her faithful partner somewhere safe. She couldn’t bring him to a hospital -- without detransforming doctors wouldn’t be able to treat him and if he detransformed Plagg wouldn’t be able to stabilize him. And she couldn’t just leave him somewhere -- it was one on three now, and no matter how hard she fought she couldn’t possibly keep an eye on Hawkmoth, Mayura AND Volpina at the same time -- if one of them were to find him when he couldn’t defend himself -- No. There was only one option.

She glanced back over her shoulder as she changed directions to make sure she hadn’t been followed. Thank Kwami that Tikki had managed to give her enough time to get away. Several minutes and too few of her partner’s gasping breaths later, she dropped down through the trap door of her room. She laid Chat down on her bed as gently as she could, seeing his eyes widen as he realized where he was. “M….M’lady?”

She had already jumped down from the loft, tearing apart a pile of boxes by her sewing machine and pressing the code into the lockbox she’d designed to free the miraculous box within. Pressing two spots on the egg-shaped box, she grabbed the jewelry that they revealed, racing back to her partner as the kwamis materialized. She could feel the two small being’s confusion at being summoned turn to worry and spiking fear as they saw her own wounds and Chat’s. Her bloody fingers fumbled to secure Orikko’s necklace around Chat’s neck and then Wayzz’s bracelet around her own wrist.

“Guardian --”

“Orikko.” She cut Wayzz off. “Can you stabilize him while I finish the fight?”

The motherly kwami looked shaken but nodded, and Ladybug returned her focus to her partner.

“Kitty? Can you hear me?” Her hands were shaking.

“Marinette?” He questioned, face contorted in pain and confusion.

“That doesn’t matter right now. I just need to make sure that you’re okay. I need you to merge Orikko with Plagg, can you do that? She’s the kwami of restoration and she’s going to help you.” She tried to make her voice as soothing as possible.

He nodded, grasping her hand like a lifeline. “Orikko, Plagg, merge!” An orange light covered him and faded to reveal orange accents running up and down his suit.

Ladybug nodded and began to stand. “Good. I’m going to go take care of things. You just stay here until I can cast the cure, okay? You’re going to be okay Chaton.” She didn’t know if she was trying to reassure him or herself. Before she could move, he grabbed her hand with surprising strength.

“Wait,” he gasped. “Plagg, divide.” Green light faded to leave her partner in an orange and red jumpsuit that looked almost like a sunrise if it wasn’t for the blood still staining his torso and her sheets. “If… if they were to find me… I couldn’t protect him. Just in case… you were followed… you need to take him, Bug.”

Tears blurred her eyes as she looked at the perfect trust in her partner’s face. Plagg himself was crying, quiet tears running down his small cheeks as he hugged Chat’s chin as best as he was able. “He’s right Bug.”  Her hand trembled as she slipped the ring onto her middle finger.

“I’ll be back soon, okay? Stay safe Kitty.” She leaped for the balcony before he could see her own tears. She ran away from her home, focused only on gaining as much distance as she could as fast as possible. The three villains likely hadn’t stayed at the Trocadero and they could jump out at her from anywhere. Pausing on a rooftop halfway across the city, she took a deep breath and looked down at the green kwami on her shoulder.

“I’m… I’m going to need to be my own shield this time. Can I rely on you Wayzz?” Her voice was soft, knowing that she was asking him to effectively relive the battle where they’d lost Fu nearly three years ago.

His eyes firmed with resolve despite a wet sheen. “You can count on me, Master.”

She nodded. “Tikki, Wayzz, merge!” When the light of the transformation left her, her suit felt much sturdier. She looked down to see interlocking armored plates extending across her body. She bent, testing her movement, and was relieved when the plates appeared to be as flexible as they were sturdy. Reaching for a new weight on her back revealed a shield patterned like the carapace of a ladybug.

“Milady!”

She heard the shout from behind her and stiffened, whipping around as Plagg darted to hide in one of her pigtails. An illusion of Chat Noir limped towards her across the roof, bloody and battered, clutching a hand to his chest.

“I’m so glad that I found you! I --” She didn’t wait for it to finish, sending her yoyo shooting through it with more force than strictly necessary, leaving a cloud of orange smoke drifting in the air.

“How dare you?!” She shrieked, voice vibrating with barely contained rage. “Why don’t you come out here and fight me yourself you coward?!” A high pitched whistling sound was her only warning, and she twirled to block the strike that Volpina had aimed at her head.

“Did I touch a nerve?” The fox villainess smirked. “I have to wonder, how did you know it was an illusion so quickly? Is your mangy sidekick already dead?” She punctuated her words with a sharp blow on her flute, conjuring a large orange beacon above them.

Ladybug flew at her with a roar, knocking the flute out of Volpina’s hands and tackling her to the ground. She could hear the breath whoosh out of the other girl and drew back her right fist to punch the akuma in the face. The blow connected with more force than she was used to -- she normally relied on her agility to fight as Ladybug -- adding Wayzz to the equation had given her more strength than she usually had.

Volpina dazedly lifted a hand to her face, her glove coming away red against her newly split lip. Her eyes focused on Ladybug’s hand and the bloody silver ring glinting in the sunlight. “Hmm,” she smirked around red teeth, “Looks like I wasn’t wrong. Poor Ladybug, can’t even save the life of your dumb partner. What a failure.”

Marinette had barely registered the words when she felt a sharp pain in her ear. Plagg. She closed her eyes and took a second to breathe, grateful for the kwami’s interference. Opening her eyes, she reached down and was about to snap the foxtail pendant on the akuma’s chest when something slammed into her from the side, knocking her across the roof. She pushed herself to her feet. Hawkmoth and Mayura had arrived.

“Hawkmoth!” Volpina shouted as she jumped to her feet. “She’s wearing the ring!”

An ugly smirk twisted the supervillain’s face as he leaped towards her, alongside the sentimonster moth that Mayura had summoned for him. “Your miraculous will be mine!”

Marinette dodged and twisted desperately, fending off attacks from three sides. She managed to score a lucky hit on Mayura, knocking the older woman back, but not a second later she felt the blade of Hawkmoth’s cane pierce her side. She faltered, looking down at the purple blade protruding from her side. No. She would not give up now. Steeling herself, she moved backward, forcing the blade out of her and threw herself towards an empty area of the rooftop, calling for Shellter. She sunk to her knees inside the green shield, hand pressed against her side and breath coming in quick pants.

“--Bug! Bug!” She looked up to see Plagg hovering in front of her.

She gave him a shaky smile and winced as she threw her yoyo into the air. “Lucky Charm!” The object fell into her hands and she prayed that somehow it would be able to fix everything. Fix her mistakes, her failures, her inability to protect Chat -- to protect herself -- her city. She very nearly broke into tears when she looked down at her hands and found only a simple hand mirror, showing her battered and blood-stained reflection.  “What can I do with this?!” She cried in despair.

Plagg looked with her, appearing first confused, and then resigned. “Think about it Bug,” he said softly, gesturing at the three supervillains battering her weakening shield. “There’s only one way to get out of this.”

It took her a moment to figure out what he was implying. “I can’t!” Her shout was semi-hysteric. “No one can be trusted with that power! If I think the wrong thing I could start world war three, or another plague, or --”

Plagg lightly scratched her cheek with one claw, bringing her back to herself. “Look, Bug. I’m not going to pretend that this is an ideal situation. Heck, I’m not ecstatic about this either. But… there really isn’t another way out. And…” He paused. “Tikki wouldn’t have told you to do this if she didn’t trust you Bug. And that’s enough for me. You know the words.”

She stared at him a moment longer, eyes swirling with indecision. Then, as her shield collapsed, she gave a shaky nod and shouted -- “Wayzz, divide. Tikki, Plagg, MERGE!”

___________________________________________________

Everything was white. Hawkmoth, Mayura, Volpina, Paris, all gone. Marinette looked down at herself. She wasn’t wearing her Ladybug suit -- just the normal clothes she’d had on that morning when she’d gone out to sketch in the gardens. She pressed a hand against her side, exhaling in relief when there was no pain, before inhaling in panic. “Am I dead?” She wondered aloud. She’d been injured, maybe combining the miraculous had killed her, and even now Hawkmoth was making his wish --

“You are not dead, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Ladybug Warrior and Great Guardian of the Miraculous.”

Marinette looked up to see what appeared to be a kwami floating in the void in front of her. It was black in color, somehow darker than Plagg as if it was a pocket of negative space. Three white eyes stared at her in unison. “Tikki? Plagg?”

“Yes, and no. We are Null, the kwami of reality.”

“So you’re…” “We are here to grant your wish.”

Marinette took an unconscious step backward as the being regarded her impassively. Her mind was racing. It was one thing to know what the Ladybug and Black Cat miraculouses could do, but this… this was something else entirely. A wish. Anything she desired, regardless of its effect on the reality which she knew. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t immediately thought of Chat. Except, wishes had brought about the sinking of Atlantis, the black plague, drought and famine, and unknown suffering. If she wished for Chat’s life, someone else could die and there would be no miraculous cure to bring them back. No -- she had to trust her partner, and she had to trust her ability to somehow make it out of this and cast the cure.

She wished Tikki was there. Tikki. The kwamis. For thousands of years, they’d suffered in a world that battled over them, causing them pain as they fought evil and lost those they cared about over and over. That was it -- she could do this for them. She looked up at Null who hadn’t moved, seemingly content to wait for her to make up her mind.

“I…” She started. “I wish that the kwamis of the miracle box under my protection could have the power of the wish and that any price exacted would affect me alone.”

Null gave her a considering look. Although the kwami had no mouth that she could see, she somehow got the impression that Null was smirking. “You are an interesting one Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Very Well. Your wish is granted.”

And Marinette saw white again.

___________________________________________________

Within Marinette’s transformation and the kwami Null, Tikki and Plagg stirred, realizing what she had done. Using one paw to shield his eyes from the blinding light emanating from Ladybug, Wayzz felt a sense of power fill him and connect him to the other kwamis. Orikko paused in her single-minded focus on healing the boy that her Master had left with her. The kwamis that had remained in the miracle box felt the compassion of their Guardian surround them as they too realized what had happened. Even trapped within the transformations of Hawkmoth and Mayura, Noroo and Dusuu felt a strange and alien kindness, both shocked at what the Ladybug holder was willing to do for the kwamis -- for them. Across their different locations, their minds reached together. Each felt as though this was a decision meant to be discussed, but the magic of the wish latched onto one common desire that had lanced through every single one of them when Marinette had made her wish.

“We wish to have a Guardian as kind as you always.”

___________________________________________________

When Marinette came to, she was back on the rooftop, Hawkmoth, Mayura, and Volpina leaping at her in what seemed to be slow motion. She held out a hand and they stopped.

“Wayzz, are you alright?” Her voice sounded strange -- it echoed in on itself and reminded her of baying hounds. The small green kwami nodded, seemingly shocked speechless. “I’m glad,” she smiled and turned her attention back to the three villains floating in the air in front of her. “Your crimes against this world, and against the kwamis of transmission and emotion will not go unpunished.” She walked forward, first crushing the foxtail pendant that hung around Volpina’s neck, grabbing the freed akuma in one hand. Her fist shone, and a purified butterfly was released. “Miraculous Cure!” A swarm of golden ladybugs trailing purple energy swept through the city, reversing the damage of the battle that had taken place. Lila Rossi dropped to the ground as Marinette stepped forward, one hand grasping Mayura’s pin and the other Hawkmoth’s broach. In one quick motion, she ripped off both miraculouses, leaving Gabriel Agreste and Nathalie Sancouer standing frozen on the roof. She reached into thin air and pulled out a rope, tying the immobile and powerless villains together. She looked for her yoyo to call the police, but couldn’t find it anywhere amidst the purple and gold swirls of the ethereal dress this transformation had given her. “Ah.” Her lips quirked in a smile. “Plagg, divide.”

She nearly collapsed herself when the powerful energy rush of being… whatever she had been for a few short moments there left her.

“Bug.” Plagg was staring at her. “When we told you to make a wish, we never thought…”

Marinette, back in her familiar red and black spots drew the kwami of destruction close, hugging him against her cheek. “I know.” Then, she straightened and called 112 from her yoyo.

“What is your emergency?” The voice on the other end of the line asked.

“This is Ladybug. Code Polyphemus. I have apprehended Hawkmoth, Mayura, and their willing accomplice Volpina.” She looked down at the street sign below her and choked back a sardonic laugh. “I’m on the Rue des Martyrs, near Sacre Coeur. I’ll hold them until you arrive.”

There was a pause before the woman on the other end of the line let out a loud cheer. “We’ll have people there as soon as we can Ladybug. Congratulations, and thank you. Thank you so much.”

No sooner than Marinette had smiled and ended the call did her yoyo begin shaking again. She flipped open the screen to reveal a call notification from Orikko’s mirror. Her heart stopped as she picked up. “Chat?” She questioned, voice shaking.

“Ladybug! The cure -- it worked! Where are you? Do you need help?!”

She blinked back tears and let out a joyful whoop. “It’s okay Chaton. It’s… it’s going to be a long story, but it’s okay now. I have Hawkmoth and Mayura here. I have their miraculouses Chat. They’re not going to hurt anyone ever again.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line as her partner processed what she’d said before he let out a whoop of his own. “I’m on my way Milady! I’ll be there as fast as the rooster flies.”

She rolled her eyes but laughed. “Good Kitty. I’m going to need some help to get these three down to the street. I could carry them all at once, but it wouldn’t look incredibly heroic if I jostled them too much.” Pausing, she continued, voice softer. “Besides, you should be here too. This bug is nothing without her partner.” She could tell that she’d made him blush from halfway across the city.

Just as she began to hear sirens approaching, she saw her partner gliding over the rooftops on wings like sunlight, smiling brightly at her. Then his eyes traveled to the three people bound at her feet and widened, his smile cracking like broken glass. He lost altitude, hitting the roof faster than he must have planned, rolling to arrest his momentum.

“Ladybug,” His voice shook more than when he’d been dying in her arms. “Please tell me that isn’t Hawkmoth.”

For the first time since she’d come back to herself, she looked down, really registering the fact that it was Gabriel Agreste -- Adrien’s father -- angrily bound at her feet. Her eyes hardened. “I’m sorry Chaton, this is him.” She knelt down, forcing him to look into her eyes. “For what you did to this city I will make sure that you are prosecuted to the full extent of the law. What I really can’t forgive you for is what this is going to do to your son. Did you think about him at all when you decided to throw your life away like this? Despite the crumbs of attention that you give him and the multitude of things you force him to do, he loves you. And you just threw that away. You are the worst type of human being that I have ever seen.”

Gabriel had begun to look angrier the more she spoke. “I was doing this all for him!” He shouted. “For our family!”

“Bullshit!”

Marinette looked behind her at her partner’s shout, eyes widening as she saw the tears streaming down his face.

“What would you know?” Gabriel scoffed.

“More than you think. Orikko, sundown.” And a flash of golden light revealed Adrien Agreste standing where her partner had been. Gabriel looked like he had been poleaxed, but Marinette was already moving, slipping Adrien’s ring back on his finger and wrapping him in her arms. She pulled back, kissing his cheek before turning to face his father with him, their hands entwined.

“Claws out.” The hand in hers was wrapped in familiar black leather.

“Adrien.” Gabriel gasped. Nathalie was crying.

“You tried to kill me.” Adrien looked like he almost didn’t believe what he was saying. “If Ladybug hadn’t won, I would have died.” “I didn’t know!” Gabriel screamed in anguish. Then he looked up at Adrien, desperation on his face. “Now that you know, you can help me! I was going to use the wish to bring back your mother Adrien, to reunite our family!”

Marinette tightened her grip on her partner’s hand as he recoiled.

“What?” The word was filled with empty horror. “Mother is dead. She died years ago. And instead of moving on, of spending time with the FAMILY THAT YOU HAD LEFT you became a terrorist that killed countless people and made an entire city afraid of feeling. You… I can’t believe you.” He stepped forward, looking at Gabriel with deadly intent. “You are NOT my father.” He spat.

Fortunately, none of the rooftop confrontations had been witnessed by the police. Ladybug carried Gabriel and Nathalie to the waiting squad cars while Chat Noir handled Lila. The two heroes gave their statements, establishing Adrien as an unknowing and innocent victim of Gabriel’s plans and ensuring that the elder Agreste, as well as Nathalie and Lila, would all be in prison for a very long time. By the time they were able to get away, the city had begun to realize what had happened, and they swung across the rooftops to the sounds of cheering and laughing and crying below. Without even discussing it, they ended up back at Marinette’s house, dropping through the skylight and into her room. Adrien called for his detransformation as soon as they landed on her bed, collapsing into her arms with a wail.

“Shh, Chaton.” She soothed. “You were so, SO strong out there. You don’t have to be strong anymore.” Gently stroking his hair, she continued. “You’ll stay here. With Ladybug throwing her weight around, we should be able to get the custody papers drawn up soon. You’ll never have to go back there again Chaton. I’m your family now, and no one is ever going to hurt you again.”

He looked up at her in awe. “R-- Really?”

She smiled. “Of course. It’s you and me against the world, remember? Now, we should probably go talk to my parents. Tikki spots off!”

No sooner than she had released her transformation than a searing pain arched across her entire body. She heard herself screaming, and Adrien’s panicked shouts and her world went black.

[jemej3m]

Please please keep writing that radio host Andreil fic. It was so amazing already thank you

you demand and i supply lmao (slight nswfish warning? lol its just mentioned in passing yall know my ace ass is no good with that)

here’s p.1

*

Andrew didn’t want to come across as eager, but -

Talking with Neil had felt natural. Too natural. And thrilling. God, Andrew didn’t realise his heart could still go that fast. The idea of the music accidentally being cut and his voice being projected out into the world created a false sense of enthrallment that had his pulse stuttering.

Andrew’s fingers itched for his phone as he drove home the next day. How old was Neil? What did he look like? How’d he find himself hosting a midnight show on a shitty Colombian radio station? He seemed like such an enigma, too big for this awfully tiny place.

The way Andrew was waxing about him was foreign and disturbing. He’d never met this man: He had no clue what he looked like, who he was outside of his work, what kind of morals he had.

Maybe it was the music. Maybe it was just his damned voice.

Either way, Andrew found himself calling the same number, all over again. The phone balanced on his knee as he drove.

“It’s Neil from Mid-Nights, what are your thoughts on the rise in crime in Columbia?”

“Any interesting opinions, as of yet?” Andrew inquired, both genuinely curious (something he wasn’t familiar with) and superficially bored.

“None, as of yet.” The presenter answered.

“Shame.” Andrew drawled.

“I recognise this voice.” Neil answered. “You called me last night, didn’t you? Andrew. I remember.”

“Well done.” Andrew said, letting his tone fall flat. “Would you like an award?”

Neil snorted. “I’d like for callers to remain on topic whilst using up a line, but we can’t all get what we want. We can talk for another two minutes, but it’ll cost you a genuine opinion.”

“Fine.” Andrew grunted. “An ideal government would strive for balanced reputation in order to achieve equitable living standards for its citizens. When everything is balanced, there’s no need for crime.”

“Well - ” Neil coughed. “Theoretically.”

“Theoretically.” Andrew echoed.

“What, was that your thesis?”

“I have a doctorate in communications and criminology, so, pretty much.”

“The hell you doing, driving home at this hour every night with qualifications like that?” Neil asked, almost gentle.

Andrew hated the idea that this stranger pitied him. It made his skin feel too tight, made his body pull taut with tension as his teeth ground together. That was none of Neil’s business, and Andrew thought he should know. “You should get off your fucking high horse, Midnighter. You’re no better than me.” Hanging up was satisfying, but Andrew still felt a little hollow.

He didn’t need random radio presenters reminding him of his shortcomings. He had his family for that.

Neil’s music continued to play softly in the background. Another playlist worthy track. Petty and bitter, Andrew ignored it and shoved his fist into the radio’s controls, turning off the station entirely.

*

Neil leant into the microphone and hoped Andrew could hear his grin.

“To the man who hung up on me last night, fuck you too.” Neil’s voice was too playful to be interpreted as serious. Or so he hoped. “My high-horse had its legs chopped off years ago. I was complimenting you, asshole.”

No one would understand him, but it was alright. He was known for angering people.

Half an hour later, as though Andrew had remained in the driveway listening to the show and deciding whether or not to call up, the phone began to rang. Neil picked it up - too enthusiastically, really - and brought it to his ear.

“It’s Neil from Mid-Nights, how are you?”

“Jack-ass.” Andrew answered. “I don’t need no compliments. Stick to what you’re good at: Being an asshole.”

The dial-tone of being hung-up on (again) made Neil grin.

*

It’d been two weeks. Andrew had run through most of his call credit, seeing as he rarely used it in the first place. The conversations were never longer than a few minutes, but the fragmented moments strung together and formed something so rare, so niche, that Andrew had to wonder at himself: What in fuck’s name did he think he was doing?

“I hope this’ll help wake you all from your long-drive stupors.” Neil’s voice, deceptively sweet, laughed into the microphone. “Nothing like some solid distortion solos to get you feeling alive. Oh, and I’m expecting a call. You know who you are.”

“Asshole.” Andrew grunted, cocking his head to the side as he pulled up at a red light. 

Black in Black started blasting from his speakers, unintentionally. Andrew scoffed, squashing down the remnants of his grin, and rolled down the windows. 

He didn’t call Neil till the song had faded into something along the lines of Elton John, not wanting to give Neil the satisfaction of being at his beck and call. 

Neil paid him back the favour, almost letting the call ring out before snatching up the line on its last breath. 

“You’re getting stingy.” Neil complained. “I figured out you get off shift at three. Why the half an hour of time wasted?”

“Making you wait is half the fun.” Andrew rolled his eyes. “Don’t be a creep and go working out my schedule with too little knowledge and too good perceptions. It’s weird.”

“Observations keep me alive and kicking. You like my song choice?”

Neil queued another two songs after Bennie and the Jets so they could talk and Andrew didn’t even mind. He was sure he’d never willingly spent this much time with even his own family.

“You know,” Neil offered, a hint of hesitation in his voice that Andrew’d never heard before. “I could - uh, I could give you my -”

“Spit it out, Josten.”

He could hear Neil’s scowl. “I can’t if you keep interrupting me!” He let out a disgruntled huff. “Well, I just thought - maybe I could give you my personal number.” 

Andrew hummed. “For what purpose?”

“To get to know you better.” Neil said, the blunt confidence returning to his voice. “If that was something you’d be interesting. Or am I just a welcomed blip in the routine?” 

“Do whatever you want. I couldn’t care less.” Andrew lied. 

Neil laughed softly. “Goodnight, Andrew.”

“Night.” 

*

Andrew stood outside the staff entrance letting the smoke curl in his mouth before letting it seep out from between his lips. He’d always broken his breaks up into ten-minute chunks to keep up the flow of nicotine. No one usually spoke to him or acknowledged him. 

Usually. 

Roland, his consistent hook-up over the past six months, leaned against the door to keep it closed. Andrew could appreciate the low-cut sleeveless shirt and the arms folded across the man’s chest. Andrew had left bruises in the shape of his chain necklace when Roland asked him to: He knew Roland wanted something more permanent than what he was willing to give. 

“You’ve been distant.” Roland supplied. 

Andrew flicked ash in his direction, a warning in and of itself. Roland merely rolled his eyes and dropped his arms, opening his palms as an offer. 

That was how it always happened: They had five, ten minutes to spare. There was nothing better to do. Andrew was going through the motions: Going to work, serving drunk fuckwits, smoking in silence, giving Roland head to shut him up, repeat. 

When the other man gasped “We should go out to dinner some time,” Andrew pinched the skin of his thigh. Roland’s hand flew out to stabilise himself against the table-top, effectively hitting the small radio player that worked constantly. 

He must have knocked the frequencies, because Neil’s pearlescent laughter filled the room and Andrew had never felt more disgusted: In himself, in this, in everything. The visceral hatred for his existence was only a glimmer, a fragmented moment, but it was enough to have him stumbling away, shoving his hands through his hair and digging his fingers into his temples. 

“Andrew?” Roland managed. 

“I’m going home.” He snapped, shoving his hands into his pockets. He found his phone and his keys, slamming the staff-entrance door behind him. 

Sitting in the driver’s seat, he looked at his phone again. Looked at the text from an unknown number that he’d read but not answered. 

hey this is neils number. 

He swallowed against the cotton wad in his throat and typed out an answer. when do you finish? 

neil was quick to respond. four am every morning. aren’t you still on shift? 

Andrew rested his forehead against the steering-wheel and tried to ignore the way his heart raced. left early. 

Neil took over five minutes to answer. Andrew didn’t want to turn on the radio and hear his voice, so he waited. His patience was rewarded a little while later. 

bring me coffee? black, no sugar, no milk. itd be nice to finally see you. 

Andrew shoved down the desire to smile instinctively, hating the unfamiliar twitch to his lips. with a coffee order like that, i’d rather run for the hills. 

shame. Neil answered. see you soon? 

Andrew was a goner, shoving his keys into the ignition as he typed out a hasty reply. 

yeah. see you soon.

*

:DDD

[jelly-pies]

Aesthetic Tag Game

Thanks for tagging me @an-odd-idea!

Rules: Bold the aesthetics you relate to and add twenty of your own aesthetic qualities for others to bold

(soft!) baby pink | iridescent | glitter is always a good option | no bra | minimalistic tattoos | cherry patterns | sweet scented perfumes | wearing generous amounts of blush | doodling hearts | getting excited to pet an animal | fun nails | rewatching old barbie movies | hair sticking to glossed lips | heart shaped sunglasses | taking pictures of the sunset or sunrise | stuffed animals | protecting nature | stickers everywhere | teen movies | the light rain that falls from a clear sky at the beginning of the night |

(dark academia!) neutral tones | masculine outfits | studying languages | worn down copy of books | grey skies | turtleneck sweaters | loose fitting pants | hair tied with a silk ribbon | trying to remember a cool difficult word you read somewhere to use in a convo | thick belts | minimal makeup | windows fogged by rain | vintage jewelry | blouses with cuffed sleeves | reading a murder mystery and trying to solve it | oxford style shoes | sweater vests | subtitled old movies in a language you don’t speak | leaves crackling as you walk | annotating books to express your emotions about the story |

(edgy!) closet full of dark clothes | fishnet tights | makeup sweating off | neon signs | searching for unknown songs | chokers | band tees | doodling on old converses | finding smoking aesthetically pleasing but not doing it | weird humor | accidentally very dramatic | dim lights | layered outfits | chain belts | chipped nail polish | messy hair | low quality pics | piercings | combat boots | scribbling on desks |

(seventies!) colorful wardrobe | doodling flowers | wearing short shorts | using a bikini top or bra as a normal top | listening to ABBA | flowers in your hair | DIYing everything | jamming to songs alone in your room | drunkenly telling your friends you love them | patterned bandanas | mid heeled shoes | messy braids | flared sleeves | walking barefoot on grass or sand | bold sunglasses | the good kind of tired you get after doing something you enjoy for hours | feeding stray animals | fun patterned socks | room decorated with succulents and other plants | likes to go roller skating or skateboarding |

(preppy casual!) collared clothes | drinking juice out of a champagne glass | getting excited to see the met gala looks | thick headbands | small pastel cardigans | making your friends take your ootd pics | plaid mini skirts | tweed two pieces | watching reality tv to pass time | frilly tops | watching old hollywood movies | academically driven | long manicured nails | new year’s eve fireworks | colorful tights | layered golden jewelry | yearns for luxury brand items | decorating your room with fairy-lights | cursive and neat handwriting | lace details

(@masterninjacow) rainy mornings | sweet steaming tea | cats’ purrs | daydreaming about fantasies | back hugs | glinting necklaces | loud video games | grumbling thunder | constantly chewing gum | wearing nothing but a t-shirt and underwear to bed | watching horror movies at night | nibbling on chocolates | talking to yourself | short hair | sad lofi music | messy sketches | sweet-scented body wash | spicy noodles at midnight | hating physical affection but craving it at the same time | ending all texts with lmao or rip

(@cherriigguk) | dried flowers | painting at 2 am in oversized sweater| up until sunrise | abundance of blankets and plushies | minimalistic colours | writing when you can’t sleep | warm banana bread on a winters day | stroking a sleepy dog | big eyeliner | butterfly clips | lo-fi hip hop | glossy lips and rose tinted cheeks | afternoon tea with old friends | oversized cardigans | herbal tea | dainty jewellery | self-care evenings | messy low bun or ponytails | dark hair | too many sketchbooks

(@bisoo) Fairy lights | Walking in the woods | night city | waves sound | drinking hot chocolate or tea during raining days | being wrapped in a blanket | polaroids | pastel stuff | mint tea | cats’ furr | baked brownies or cookies | French toast/pancakes for breakfast | drinking tea at 3 am with friends | café | doing braids on your friend’s hair | lots of plushies | doing old drawings again | boxes full of doodles | iced coffee

(@midnightlunaandinnerfangirl) having tons of plushies | wearing black | knitting | making your own clothes | napping in the sun | dancing in your bedroom | reading books in your bed | oversized hoodies | combat boots | flowy dresses | lots of piercings | wearing multiple rings on your fingers | gardening | ripped black jeans | chokers | wearing tights | oversized sweaters | black nail polish | holding babies | coffee

(@superherotiger) Posters on your bedroom walls | Marvel/Star Wars shirts | hot chocolate at night | platonic cuddling | family jewellery | ocean breeze | sand on your feet | reading books in the sunlight | stuffed toys | big jackets | black hair | playing games | night owl | clean and orderly | blues and greens | trinkets from travels | LEGO | unfinished sketch books | sunny days | starry nights

(@an-odd-idea) constant daydreaming | full notes app | studying maps | staying up late | meaningful jewelry | searching for music to match what you’re writing | loving deeply | always cold | cuddling cats | no makeup | long hair | camp t-shirts | songs on repeat | singing in the car | fuzzy blanket | chamomile tea | midnight snacks | summer nostalgia | bad at hugs but really wanting them anyway | holding hands |

(@jelly-pies) ink on your hands | doodling random quotes/song lyrics | t-shirts and denim shorts | keeping mints in your purse | lip balm | talking to inanimate objects | half-full journals | backpacks | fandom trinkets | flip-flops | board games | songs from original movie soundtracks | holding conversations with kids | fanarts saved to your phone | lying on the grass | floating on your back in the water | full hearty breakfasts | casual side-hugs | dozing off anywhere | fruit shakes |

So this was really fun, I especially liked the adding-aesthetics-of-your-own thing! I’m tagging: @letscatchyoulater @anxious---soul @imalivebecauseirondad @just-the-daydreamer @probablyprocrastinatingrightnow @vintervittran @kitkatwinchester @wh0doyouthinkyouareiam @loneswagger if you guys want, and anyone else who wants to participate :D

[littlemissagrafina]

Thanks for the tag @wh0doyouthinkyouareiam

Rules: Bold the aesthetics you relate to and add twenty of your own aesthetic qualities for others to bold

(soft!) baby pink | iridescent | glitter is always a good option | no bra | minimalistic tattoos | cherry patterns | sweet scented perfumes | wearing generous amounts of blush | doodling hearts | getting excited to pet an animal | fun nails | rewatching old barbie movies | hair sticking to glossed lips | heart shaped sunglasses | taking pictures of the sunset or sunrise | stuffed animals | protecting nature | stickers everywhere | teen movies | the light rain that falls from a clear sky at the beginning of the night |

(dark academia!) neutral tones | masculine outfits | studying languages | worn down copy of books | grey skies | turtleneck sweaters | loose fitting pants | hair tied with a silk ribbon | trying to remember a cool difficult word you read somewhere to use in a convo | thick belts | minimal makeup | windows fogged by rain | vintage jewelry | blouses with cuffed sleeves | reading a murder mystery and trying to solve it | oxford style shoes | sweater vests | subtitled old movies in a language you don’t speak | leaves crackling as you walk | annotating books to express your emotions about the story |

(edgy!) closet full of dark clothes | fishnet tights | makeup sweating off | neon signs | searching for unknown songs | chokers | band tees | doodling on old converses | finding smoking aesthetically pleasing but not doing it | weird humor | accidentally very dramatic | dim lights | layered outfits | chain belts | chipped nail polish | messy hair | low quality pics | piercings | combat boots | scribbling on desks |

(seventies!) colorful wardrobe | doodling flowers | wearing short shorts | using a bikini top or bra as a normal top | listening to ABBA | flowers in your hair | DIYing everything | jamming to songs alone in your room | drunkenly telling your friends you love them | patterned bandanas | mid heeled shoes | messy braids | flared sleeves | walking barefoot on grass or sand | bold sunglasses | the good kind of tired you get after doing something you enjoy for hours | feeding stray animals | fun patterned socks | room decorated with succulents and other plants | likes to go roller skating or skateboarding |

(preppy casual!) collared clothes | drinking juice out of a champagne glass | getting excited to see the met gala looks | thick headbands | small pastel cardigans | making your friends take your ootd pics | plaid mini skirts | tweed two pieces | watching reality tv to pass time | frilly tops | watching old hollywood movies | academically driven | long manicured nails | new year’s eve fireworks | colorful tights | layered golden jewelry | yearns for luxury brand items | decorating your room with fairy-lights | cursive and neat handwriting | lace details

(@masterninjacow) rainy mornings | sweet steaming tea | cats’ purrs| daydreaming about fantasies | back hugs | glinting necklaces | loud video games | grumbling thunder | constantly chewing gum | wearing nothing but a t-shirt and underwear to bed | watching horror movies at night | nibbling on chocolates | talking to yourself | short hair | sad lofi music | messy sketches | sweet-scented body wash | spicy noodles at midnight | hating physical affection but craving it at the same time | ending all texts with lmao or rip

(@cherriigguk) | dried flowers | painting at 2 am in oversized sweater| up until sunrise | abundance of blankets and plushies | minimalistic colours | writing when you can’t sleep | warm banana bread on a winters day | stroking a sleepy dog | big eyeliner | butterfly clips | lo-fi hip hop | glossy lips and rose tinted cheeks | afternoon tea with old friends | oversized cardigans | herbal tea | dainty jewellery | self-care evenings | messy low bun or ponytails | dark hair | too many sketchbooks

(@bisoo) Fairy lights | Walking in the woods | night city | waves sound | drinking hot chocolate or tea during raining days | being wrapped in a blanket | polaroids | pastel stuff | mint tea | cats’ furr | baked brownies or cookies | French toast/pancakes for breakfast | drinking tea at 3 am with friends | café | doing braids on your friend’s hair | lots of plushies | doing old drawings again | boxes full of doodles | iced coffee

(@midnightlunaandinnerfangirl) having tons of plushies | wearing black | knitting | making your own clothes | napping in the sun | dancing in your bedroom | reading books in your bed | oversized hoodies | combat boots | flowy dresses | lots of piercings | wearing multiple rings on your fingers | gardening | ripped black jeans | chokers | wearing tights | oversized sweaters | black nail polish | holding babies | coffee

(@superherotiger) Posters on your bedroom walls | Marvel/Star Wars shirts | hot chocolate at night | platonic cuddling | family jewellery | ocean breeze | sand on your feet | reading books in the sunlight | stuffed toys | big jackets | black hair | playing games | night owl | clean and orderly | blues and greens | trinkets from travels | LEGO | unfinished sketch books | sunny days | starry nights

(@an-odd-idea) constant daydreaming | full notes app | studying maps | staying up late | meaningful jewelry | searching for music to match what you’re writing | loving deeply | always cold | cuddling cats | no makeup | long hair | camp t-shirts | songs on repeat | singing in the car | fuzzy blanket | chamomile tea | midnight snacks | summer nostalgia | bad at hugs but really wanting them anyway | holding hands |

(@jelly-pies) ink on your hands | doodling random quotes/song lyrics | t-shirts and denim shorts | keeping mints in your purse | lip balm | talking to inanimate objects | half-full journals | backpacks | fandom trinkets | flip-flops | board games | songs from original movie soundtracks | holding conversations with kids | fanarts saved to your phone | lying on the grass | floating on your back in the water | full hearty breakfasts | casual side-hugs | dozing off anywhere | fruit shakes |

(@imalivebecauseirondad) daydreaming | platonic hugs | staying up late reading fanfiction | casually telling people you love them | writing when you feel sad | going online when you can’t sleep | messy room | closet filled with all kinds of clothes | stressing about work but still procrastinating | cats | wanting an animal but knowing you can’t take care of one | taking photos of your friends/family at random moments unexpectedly | nostalgia fro something you don’t recognize | doodling in the margins of books | singing alone | karoake | video games | binging shows | comics | wishing for something impossible

(@dredfulhapiness) crowded libraries | naps | chronically cracked phone screen | CD collections | musical theater | Every Kurt Vonnegut book | bookends | patterned button-ups | magical realism | scream-singing Taylor Swift | winter nights | nails bit to the quick | jigsaw puzzles | black coffee | drive-in movie theaters | driving at night | thunderstorms | horror novels | owning multiple sets of dice

(@wh0doyouthinkyouareiam) unmade beds | soft blankets | iced coffee | lightning shows at night | hair tangled with sea salt | rain gear | red lipstick | gold hoop earrings | light summer dresses | messy embroidery | pressed flowers | leather notebooks | black gel pens | books in languages you can hardly understand | glasses slipping down your nose | painted toenails | smiling underneath a mask | foggy October mornings | sneaking out to go stargazing | mint-chocolate candy

(@littlemissagrafina) too many notebooks or sketchbooks | the smell of the ocean | sunsets in summer | painted nails | natural hair | too many WIPS in your docs | musical soundtracks | talking to friends until after midnight | fandom merchandise | high waisted jeans | coffee cups sitting empty next to you long after you finish them | fluffy socks | fairy lights | paint/ink/graphite stained fingers after art | the soft glow of candles | day dreaming | more than one piercing | unedited/unchecked writing | the still silence when the world is meant to be asleep but you're still awake | being open and affection with your friends |

I'll tag: @scooter3scooter @itstimeforachange01 @joyful-soul-collector @justt-ppeachy @canonismybitch @blondsak @vintervittran

[fvlminare]

✗✗✗   you see [ camille rivas ] around lately? yeah i heard that the [ cis female ] is up to no good. [ she / her ] has been here for [ three years ] now but they’re still pretty [ calculating ] which is fine because they’re also [ ardent ] so it balances out. the [ twenty-six ] year old [ dancer at mayhem ] actually looks like a lot like [ sofia carson ], don’t you think? it’s best to watch out, though, because it’s been said that they’re really into [ the rush of cocaine in her veins & a vice grip on her throat ]. 

henlo it me again! i hope u guys aren’t sick of me yet bc here’s my other bb! say hello to my boss-ass bish gal camile! she’s sassy, classy and a lil badassy. she’s a rather feisty, fiery, ball of rage and anger who cba with ur bullshit tbh n she’ll tell u this too if u piss her off enough! she’s lowkey cutthroat and always out for number one, aka: herself. but, i mean, she does have some redeeming qualities and her hair is bomb af so that makes up for it all really, doesn’t it? basically that meme: ‘ she’s beauty, she’s grace, she’ll punch you in the face. ’ anywho, you know the drill, slap a lil luv on this n i’ll come pester u for all the good stuff : - ) 

fundamentals.

CAMILLE ALARA RIVAS     —     twenty-six, dancer at mayhem,   +   an honest-to-god vixen   /   hellcat   /   lil demoness ! 

aesthetics   ➤   dresses of black lace and red velvet, the scent of chanel perfume lingering in the air as she floats past, blood-red fingertips coiled around the pistol grip of a gun, red-bottomed heels clicking against marble floors, rose gold highlighter shimmering along the height of prominent cheekbones, satin dresses draped over a svelte frame that is shrouded in an air of mystery and intrigue, baby pink roses in a vase on the window sill, deft fingers stained with charcoal and oil paint, the melodic chime of piano keys, delicate digits adorned with moonstone gem rings, a coy smile spread across full crimson lips, long raven locks blowing in the cool breeze of a summer’s evening, battered books with dog-eared pages, a sense of freedom and carelessness when dancing for fun, & a sense of allurement and captivation when dancing for work.

nicknames. cam, cami, mil, millie, spawn of satan >:~)

date of birth. april tenth.

gender. cis female.

pronouns. she + her.

birthplace. manhattan, new york.

orientation. pansexual + demiromantic.

education. bachelor of dance degree obtained from nyu tisch school of the arts.

spoken languages. can speak fluent english, spanish, & latin.

negative traits. capricious, ornery, impulsive, guileful, caustic, brusque, obstinate, destructive, deceptive, & promiscuous.

positive traits. ardent, whimsical, intrepid, graceful, poised, elegant, headstrong, observant, independent, & confident.

strengths. optimistic, energetic, creative, practical, spontaneous, rational, knows how to prioritise, great in a crisis, & relaxed.

weaknesses. stubborn, insensitive, private, reserved, easily bored, dislikes commitment, & has a rather risky behaviour.

talents. ballet, knife throwing, hand-to-hand combat, horse riding, figure skating, piano, violin, painting, singing, & dancing.

physiology. hazel eyes. dark brown hair. five feet, four inches tall. of a petite, slender stature with subtle curves and long hair. has a long silvery scar on her back. her skin is clean of any tattoos. has both earlobes pierced. requires glasses but wears contacts most days. is right-handed.

psychology. aries zodiac. fire element. ravenclaw house. istp-a. true neutral. type seven enneagram. choleric temperament. intra-personal intelligence type. addicted to alcohol, tobacco, and cannabis. suffers from addiction and abandonment issues. her vices are lust, greed and wrath. her virtues are ... ( again ) honestly, probably just diligence tbh.

background.

possible triggers   :   child abandonment, abandonment issues, foster homes, alcohol, drugs, violence, gore, blood, murder, & death.

a synopsis.   ok so for this gal, let’s all give a big, warm welcome to sadness ( no, i was in no way at all inspired by salem from sabrina for that line ) bc boy oh boy, her life has been constant grief and pain, tbh. strap in for the bumpy ride, i’ll give u cookies for compensation. OK SO, camille was abandoned as a baby, never did—and still doesn't—know her biological parents and she doesn’t want to either, tbh. she bounced around from foster home to foster home, never sticking in one place for too long. given her turbulent upbringing, she was somewhat of a difficult child. too boisterous, too unruly, too stubborn, too inquisitive. too much of everything but never enough of anything. never enough for anybody to want her. it didn’t take the girl too long to figure out that it was just her alone, against the big bad world. from the age that she was old enough to realise it, camille knew that she had to fend for herself—that she could never truly rely on a single soul but herself. the hollowness inside her chest never quite satiated, leaving her empty and only too well aware of the lack of her real parental figures. as a young adolescent, this started to crawl under her skin and mess with her mind. it rendered her void of affection and unable to form genuine bonds with others—filling her with deep-rooted resentment that festered beneath the surface of the indifferent demeanour she plastered over herself every day. she always felt starved of love: as if some integral part of her heart was missing, leaving a gaping void that nobody could ever fill. anywho, she fell in with the wrong crowd which did little to aid her foster families hostility toward her. truthfully, most of her experiences in various homes were ... not pleasant. she’d encountered abusive ‘parents,’ horrible ‘siblings,’ and even worse schooling days. pressing the self-destruct button is this gal’s speciality thus she found herself gravitating towards her vices: things and people she knew were no good for her. drink, drugs, people, you name it. quickly, she realised that these things were no longer any good at keeping her dark side at bay: she needed something more, something deeper. thus, she began going down the road of petty crimes—stealing cars, smashing windows, theft, setting fires both metaphorically and literally. due to this lifestyle, she wound up entangled with some real shady folk who did … even shadier things. most specifically, she started dating a real jackass who was violent and truthfully, a horrible person, really. stupidly, she decided to run off into the metaphorical sunset with him * insert eye roll emoji here. * so, fast forward a year or so and things took a swift nosedive when her lowlife boyfriend’s hands were round her throat and not in the kinky way. while she’d clawed at him and tried to fight him off, she struggled against his weight and strength until, eventually, she lifted the first makeshift weapon she felt: a rusted pair of scissors. [ TRIGGER FOR VIOLENCE, GORE, BLOOD, MURDER, DEATH ] and, in a blind state of panic, she jammed them right into his jugular vein, his blood squirting out and decorating her face in crimson splatters. he’d stumbled backwards, clutched onto his neck, blood spurting from the webs between his fingers. naturally, camille was shook about this but somehow managed to flee the scene with less guilt rattling her soul than she’d imagined. [ TRIGGER OVER ] in her mind, it was an act of self defence. it wasn’t too long after the incident that she found herself in a rather perilous situation that resulted in her sudden realisation that she needed to get her damn life on track. therefore, she done the responsible adult thing and got herself a decent education. somehow, she managed to get into university where her life started to shape into a positive one—the kind she’d always dreamed of. once she graduated, camille decided that she wanted to see the world. following a couple of years travelling, she wound up in santa ysabel where she quickly fell into the employment of mayhem. admittedly, this was a far cry from the future she’d envisioned when she was just a sweet, innocent lil child. still, all in all, she kind of digs who she is and what she is: after everything she’s been through, she loves herself. it’s been a long and winding road but camille finally believes that she’s settled in her life now. tho she still refuses to let people in, her abandonment issues terrifying her to the degree that she feels that anybody she’d ever let into her life would eventually leave her in the end. * insert sad face emoji here. *

random extras.

her tell? playing with her hair: when she’s lying, nervous, flirting—you name it!

can drink any man under the table. 

she loves art in every form: paintings, sculptures, music, dance, people, etc. she loves the freedom that expressing herself through these mediums gives her.

she’s ... experimental. she’s experimented with just about everything: hairstyles, clothing, drink, drugs, people ...

can be hella calculating and vindictive so do not cross her.

quite power-hungry tbh.

she does have a shot at redemption but she doesn’t want it lmao. she’s already been to hell so why bother trying to right her wrongs?

and boy, are her wrongs a century-long list shkjsh.

high key is not above killing people who don’t do things her way.

doesn’t believe she’s capable of loving anyone.

she’s lowkey a perfectionist to the point of being ruthless, also cutthroat and egotistical.

if ya ain’t of use to her, then what the heck is ur purpose???

she’s v ambitious, v morally ambiguous, v self-serving and v self-involved.

she can be ... aggressive sometimes and most definitely has anger issues.

dry sense of humour one million per cent.

her signature look is her blood-red lips.

extremely skilled with knives and blades. and always carries one on her person at all times.

her most prized possession is her brushed chrome zippo lighter. it has her initials engraved into it and where she got it from, or who is something she’ll never tell.

always says she needs to quit smoking but never does and probably never will either.

did someone say ... resting bitch face???

tho when she smiles it’s like sunshine uwu

high key will sleep with anyone.

first place is the ONLY acceptable place, ok??? 

one of those people who just excels at everything she tries her hand at.

absolutely adores animals. much prefers them to humans.

she’s quite adventurous and loves to feel the adrenaline in her blood.

doesn’t take herself or her life too seriously.

always up for a good time and is usually the life of the party.

outspoken and quick-witted with a sharp tongue.

much too sassy and sarcastic for her own good.

really, she does what she wants to, when she wants to, without seeking the approval of others.

truthfully? she’s a bit of a spitfire if you really irk her. so, watch out.

you can find a pinterest board for her by clicking anywhere here.

[thatmultifandomhoe]

Aesthetics Tag Game

Another tag game! This one’s an aesthetics tag game! I was tagged by @sweetae-tae @iniquitouspoppy that you sweet peas!

Rules: bold the aesthetics you relate to and add twenty of your own aesthetic qualities for others to bold. (I’m gonna bold and italicize cause I’ve noticed that on the app, it doesn’t show up if it’s just bold)

(Soft!) baby pink | iridescent | glitter is always a good option | no bra | minimalistic tattoos | cherry patterns | sweet scented perfumes | wearing generous amounts of blush | doodling hearts | getting excited to pet an animal | fun nails | rewatching old barbie movies | hair sticking to glossed lips | heart shaped sunglasses | taking pictures of the sunset or sunrise | stuffed animals | protecting nature | stickers everywhere | teen movies | the light rain that falls from a clear sky at the beginning of the night |

(Dark academia!) neutral tones | masculine outfits | studying languages | worn down copy of books | grey skies | turtleneck sweaters | loose fitting pants | hair tied with a silk ribbon | trying to remember a cool difficult word you read somewhere to use in a convo | thick belts | minimal makeup | windows fogged by rain | vintage jewelry | blouses with cuffed sleeves | reading a murder mystery and trying to solve it | oxford style shoes | sweater vests | subtitled old movies in a language you don’t speak | leaves crackling as you walk | annotating books to express your emotions about the story |

(Edgy!) closet full of dark clothes | fishnet tights | makeup sweating off | neon signs | searching for unknown songs | chokers | band tees | doodling on old converses | finding smoking aesthetically pleasing but not doing it | weird humour | accidentally very dramatic | dim lights | layered outfits | chain belts | chipped nail polish | messy hair | low quality pics | piercings | combat boots | scribbling on desks |

(Seventies!) colourful wardrobe | doodling flowers | wearing short shorts | using a bikini top or bra as a normal top | listening to ABBA | flowers in your hair | DIYing everything | jamming to songs alone in your room | drunkenly telling your friends you love them | patterned bandanas | mid heeled shoes | messy braids | flared sleeves | walking barefoot on grass or sand | bold sunglasses | the good kind of tired you get after doing something you enjoy for hours | feeding stray animals | fun patterned socks | room decorated with succulents and other plants | likes to go roller skating or skateboarding |

(Preppy casual!) collared clothes | drinking juice out of a champagne glass | getting excited to see the met gala looks | thick headbands | small pastel cardigans | making your friends take your ootd pics | plaid mini skirts | tweed two pieces | watching reality tv to pass time | frilly tops | watching old hollywood movies | academically driven | long manicured nails | new year’s eve fireworks | colorful tights | layered golden jewelry | yearns for luxury brand items | decorating your room with fairy-lights | cursive and neat handwriting | lace details

(by @masterninjacow!) rainy mornings | sweet steaming tea | cats’ purrs | daydreaming about fantasies | back hugs | glinting necklaces | loud video games | grumbling thunder | constantly chewing gum | wearing nothing but a t-shirt and underwear to bed | watching horror movies at night | nibbling on chocolates | talking to yourself | short hair | sad lofi music | messy sketches | sweet-scented body wash | spicy noodles at midnight | hating physical affection but craving it at the same time | ending all texts with lmao or rip

(by @cherriigguk!) dried flowers | painting at 2 am in oversized sweater | up until sunrise | abundance of blankets and plushies | minimalistic colours | writing when you can’t sleep | warm banana bread on a winters day | stroking a sleepy dog | big eyeliner | butterfly clips | lo-fi hip hop | glossy lips and rose tinted cheeks | afternoon tea with old friends | oversized cardigans | herbal tea | dainty jewellery | self-care evenings | messy low bun or ponytails | dark hair | too many sketchbooks |

(by @bisoo!) fairy lights | walking in the woods | night city | waves sound | drinking hot chocolate or tea during raining days   | being wrapped in a blanket | polaroids | pastel stuff | mint tea | cats’ furr | baked brownies or cookies | French toast/pancakes for breakfast | drinking tea at 3 am with friends | café | doing braids on your friend’s hair | lots of plushies | doing old drawings again | boxes full of doodles | iced coffee

(by @iniquitouspoppy!) cuddling with pets | collecting art | journaling at night | flower dresses | raccoon eyes | thunderstorms | listening to music in bed | gaming | anything (pastel) rainbow | jumpsuits | taking pictures with an old camera | pictures everywhere | spending time with friends until the sun goes down | being alone and loving it | being alone and hating it | reading in the train or bus | just reading all the time | biking everywhere | buying flowers | biting your lip | blue skies, white clouds | big tattoos | piercings | stargazing |

(by @hauntedlilies!) the smell of petrichor | dancing | strong coffee | laughing with your whole body | morning sex | re-reading books from your childhood | being touchy with everyone | art history | travelling alone | sweaty bodies in the club | red wine | trying out new dishes (cooking) | marzipan | elaborate daydreams | spicy food | multiple earrings | city sounds | boardgames with friends | empty museums | shooting stars |

(by @sweetae-tae) zoning out when talking to someone | travelling with friends | concerts and music festivals | doing something just because it makes others happy | being happy when loved ones are happy | mom-friending everyone | buying new flowers you know nothing about | baking for others | trying out new things | listening to one song on repeat for hours | not being able to find one specific song to listen to | doing things to keep your ming busy | a cool breeze during warm days | staying up for “just one more episode” | wishing on dandelions | collecting four-leaf-clovers | dimples | contagious laughter | decorating your room with photos and postcards and posters | winter nights when it snows heavily

(by @thatmultifandomhoe) dyed/fading colored hair | maxi skirts and tank tops | books everywhere | gardening | giving items a new purpose | finding joy in doing you makeup | getting sad after doing your makeup | dressing up just to stay at home | silver jewelry | multiple piercings | losing rings | coffee stains on desk | pen pals | touch starved | leather jackets | always cold even in the summer | clinging to that one stuffed animal that’s seen better days | notebooks half filled |  messy handwriting |  sticking pens/pencils in hair |  easily forgetting things | blue eyes that are more grey |  sentimental | cries easily |  clinging to memories |  feathered earrings |  always playing music

Tagging: @mygsii @myforeverforlife  @peonybane  @hobicomeholla29  @loser-dot-com @jeonsdear @namsjoon  @kpopcinnamonswirlroll @eashmo201 @1997jk @soulofatiny @cherryeoo @minniepetals @minniesmarshmallow @yoongi-sugaglider  @crystaljins @taestfully  @hyyunjins​ @i-am-delaney @worldwidebt7 @flurrys-creativity  @apurpledheart @holyfluffly @yunception @boymeetsweevil @chans-chair @brokecollegenerd @jinyoungsir @writersrealmbts @kpophoneybunny​ @actuallythatwaspromise​  @ladyartemesia​ @haylo4ever​ @ggukcangetit​ @kpopfanfictrash​ @wwilloww​ @jingabitch​ @kigurumu​ @jamaiskook​ @thatlongspringnight​ @ot7always-main​ @dreamystuffers​ @hauntedlilies​ @koophoriia​ @lorealchanelll​ @sweetheart--sannie​

[infinitebookwrms]

Aesthetic Tag Game

Thank you so much for the tag @letscatchyoulater !! this was fun 😃

Rules: Bold the aesthetics you relate to and add twenty of your own aesthetic qualities for others to bold

(soft!) baby pink | iridescent | glitter is always a good option | no bra | minimalistic tattoos | cherry patterns | sweet scented perfumes | wearing generous amounts of blush | doodling hearts | getting excited to pet an animal | fun nails | rewatching old barbie movies | hair sticking to glossed lips | heart shaped sunglasses | taking pictures of the sunset or sunrise | stuffed animals | protecting nature | stickers everywhere | teen movies | the light rain that falls from a clear sky at the beginning of the night |

(dark academia!) neutral tones | masculine outfits | studying languages | worn down copy of books | grey skies | turtleneck sweaters | loose fitting pants | hair tied with a silk ribbon | trying to remember a cool difficult word you read somewhere to use in a convo | thick belts | minimal makeup | windows fogged by rain | vintage jewelry | blouses with cuffed sleeves | reading a murder mystery and trying to solve it | oxford style shoes | sweater vests | subtitled old movies in a language you don’t speak | leaves crackling as you walk | annotating books to express your emotions about the story |

(edgy!) closet full of dark clothes | fishnet tights | makeup sweating off | neon signs | searching for unknown songs | chokers | band tees | doodling on old converses | finding smoking aesthetically pleasing but not doing it | weird humor | accidentally very dramatic | dim lights | layered outfits | chain belts | chipped nail polish | messy hair | low quality pics | piercings | combat boots | scribbling on desks |

(seventies!) colorful wardrobe | doodling flowers | wearing short shorts | using a bikini top or bra as a normal top | listening to ABBA | flowers in your hair | DIYing everything | jamming to songs alone in your room | drunkenly telling your friends you love them | patterned bandanas | mid heeled shoes | messy braids | flared sleeves | walking barefoot on grass or sand | bold sunglasses | the good kind of tired you get after doing something you enjoy for hours | feeding stray animals | fun patterned socks | room decorated with succulents and other plants | likes to go roller skating or skateboarding |

(preppy casual!) collared clothes | drinking juice out of a champagne glass | getting excited to see the met gala looks | thick headbands | small pastel cardigans | making your friends take your ootd pics | plaid mini skirts | tweed two pieces | watching reality tv to pass time | frilly tops | watching old hollywood movies | academically driven | long manicured nails | new year’s eve fireworks | colorful tights | layered golden jewelry | yearns for luxury brand items | decorating your room with fairy-lights | cursive and neat handwriting | lace details

(@masterninjacow) rainy mornings | sweet steaming tea | cats’ purrs | daydreaming about fantasies | back hugs | glinting necklaces | loud video games | grumbling thunder | constantly chewing gum | wearing nothing but a t-shirt and underwear to bed | watching horror movies at night | nibbling on chocolates | talking to yourself | short hair | sad lofi music | messy sketches | sweet-scented body wash | spicy noodles at midnight | hating physical affection but craving it at the same time | ending all texts with lmao or rip

(@cherriigguk) | dried flowers | painting at 2 am in oversized sweater| up until sunrise | abundance of blankets and plushies | minimalistic colours | writing when you can’t sleep | warm banana bread on a winters day | stroking a sleepy dog | big eyeliner | butterfly clips | lo-fi hip hop | glossy lips and rose tinted cheeks | afternoon tea with old friends | oversized cardigans | herbal tea | dainty jewellery | self-care evenings | messy low bun or ponytails | dark hair | too many sketchbooks

(@bisoo) Fairy lights | Walking in the woods | night city | waves sound | drinking hot chocolate or tea during raining days | being wrapped in a blanket | polaroids | pastel stuff | mint tea | cats’ furr | baked brownies or cookies | French toast/pancakes for breakfast | drinking tea at 3 am with friends | café | doing braids on your friend’s hair | lots of plushies | doing old drawings again | boxes full of doodles | iced coffee

(@midnightlunaandinnerfangirl) having tons of plushies | wearing black | knitting | making your own clothes | napping in the sun | dancing in your bedroom | reading books in your bed | oversized hoodies | combat boots | flowy dresses | lots of piercings | wearing multiple rings on your fingers | gardening | ripped black jeans | chokers | wearing tights | oversized sweaters | black nail polish | holding babies | coffee

(@superherotiger) Posters on your bedroom walls | Marvel/Star Wars shirts | hot chocolate at night | platonic cuddling | family jewellery | ocean breeze | sand on your feet | reading books in the sunlight | stuffed toys | big jackets | black hair | playing games | night owl | clean and orderly | blues and greens | trinkets from travels | LEGO | unfinished sketch books | sunny days | starry nights

(@an-odd-idea) constant daydreaming | full notes app | studying maps | staying up late | meaningful jewelry | searching for music to match what you’re writing | loving deeply | always cold | cuddling cats | no makeup | long hair | camp t-shirts | songs on repeat | singing in the car | fuzzy blanket | chamomile tea | midnight snacks | summer nostalgia | bad at hugs but really wanting them anyway | holding hands |

(@jelly-pies) ink on your hands | doodling random quotes/song lyrics | t-shirts and denim shorts | keeping mints in your purse | lip balm | talking to inanimate objects | half-full journals | backpacks | fandom trinkets | flip-flops | board games | songs from original movie soundtracks | holding conversations with kids | fanarts saved to your phone | lying on the grass | floating on your back in the water | full hearty breakfasts | casual side-hugs | dozing off anywhere | fruit shakes |

(@letscatchyoulater) misty sunrises | peppermint tea with milk and honey | sunlight filtering down between trees | lots of warm, squeezing hugs | vanilla scented candles  | found family fics | watching raindrops fall down the window pane | drinking hot chocolate alone at a cafe | different playlists for different moods and activities | subtle fandom pun shirts and stuff | hurt/comfort | wireless headphones for care-free dancing | crisp autumn days | shadowy forest trails | calm seas and stormy lakes | reading just one more chapter before going to sleep | cocooning oneself in a blanket burrito | chocolate biscuits | platonic cuddle piles | randomly singing and humming everywhere

(@infinitebookwrms) long road trips | singing off-key at the top of your lungs | dancing in the kitchen | baking at midnight | walking on the beach | thunderstorms | brunch with friends | unfinished stories | various rings on multiple fingers | dangly earrings | spontaneous photoshoots | dying your hair fun colors | combat boots | strappy sandals | short dresses | baseball caps | panama hats | night skies | watching waves crash against the shore | exploring new places | bold lipstick

I’m tagging @astaircaseofbooks @thebookfangirlstuff @thgbookprincess @spiegelgold-reads @thelivebookproject and anyone who wants to do it!

[hobicomeholla29]

Aesthetics Tag Game

Tag game! This one’s an aesthetics tag game! I was tagged by @thatmultifandomhoe Lindsay 💖

Rules: bold the aesthetics you relate to and add twenty of your own aesthetic qualities for others to bold. (I’m gonna bold and italicize cause I’ve noticed that on the app, it doesn’t show up if it’s just bold)

(Soft!) baby pink | iridescent | glitter is always a good option | no bra | minimalistic tattoos | cherry patterns | sweet scented perfumes | wearing generous amounts of blush | doodling hearts | getting excited to pet an animal | fun nails | rewatching old barbie movies | hair sticking to glossed lips | heart shaped sunglasses | taking pictures of the sunset or sunrise | stuffed animals | protecting nature | stickers everywhere | teen movies | the light rain that falls from a clear sky at the beginning of the night |

(Dark academia!) neutral tones | masculine outfits | studying languages | worn down copy of books | grey skies | turtleneck sweaters | loose fitting pants | hair tied with a silk ribbon | trying to remember a cool difficult word you read somewhere to use in a convo | thick belts | minimal makeup | windows fogged by rain | vintage jewelry | blouses with cuffed sleeves | reading a murder mystery and trying to solve it | oxford style shoes | sweater vests | subtitled old movies in a language you don’t speak | leaves crackling as you walk | annotating books to express your emotions about the story |

(Edgy!) closet full of dark clothes | fishnet tights | makeup sweating off | neon signs | searching for unknown songs | chokers | band tees | doodling on old converses | finding smoking aesthetically pleasing but not doing it | weird humour | accidentally very dramatic | dim lights | layered outfits | chain belts | chipped nail polish | messy hair | low quality pics | piercings | combat boots | scribbling on desks |

(Seventies!) colourful wardrobe | doodling flowers | wearing short shorts | using a bikini top or bra as a normal top | listening to ABBA | flowers in your hair | DIYing everything | jamming to songs alone in your room | drunkenly telling your friends you love them | patterned bandanas | mid heeled shoes | messy braids | flared sleeves | walking barefoot on grass or sand | bold sunglasses | the good kind of tired you get after doing something you enjoy for hours | feeding stray animals | fun patterned socks | room decorated with succulents and other plants | likes to go roller skating or skateboarding |

(Preppy casual!) collared clothes | drinking juice out of a champagne glass | getting excited to see the met gala looks | thick headbands | small pastel cardigans | making your friends take your ootd pics | plaid mini skirts | tweed two pieces | watching reality tv to pass time | frilly tops | watching old hollywood movies | academically driven | long manicured nails | new year’s eve fireworks | colorful tights | layered golden jewelry | yearns for luxury brand items | decorating your room with fairy-lights | cursive and neat handwriting | lace details

(by @masterninjacow!) rainy mornings | sweet steaming tea | cats’ purrs | daydreaming about fantasies | back hugs | glinting necklaces | loud video games | grumbling thunder | constantly chewing gum | wearing nothing but a t-shirt and underwear to bed | watching horror movies at night | nibbling on chocolates | talking to yourself | short hair | sad lofi music | messy sketches | sweet-scented body wash | spicy noodles at midnight | hating physical affection but craving it at the same time | ending all texts with lmao or rip

(by @cherriigguk!)  dried flowers | painting at 2 am in oversized sweater | up until sunrise | abundance of blankets and plushies | minimalistic colours | writing when you can’t sleep | warm banana bread on a winters day | stroking a sleepy dog | big eyeliner | butterfly clips | lo-fi hip hop | glossy lips and rose tinted cheeks | afternoon tea with old friends | oversized cardigans | herbal tea | dainty jewellery | self-care evenings | messy low bun or ponytails | dark hair | too many sketchbooks |

(by @bisoo!)  fairy lights | walking in the woods | night city | waves sound | drinking hot chocolate or tea during raining days   | being wrapped in a blanket | polaroids | pastel stuff | mint tea | cats’ furr | baked brownies or cookies | French toast/pancakes for breakfast | drinking tea at 3 am with friends | café | doing braids on your friend’s hair | lots of plushies | doing old drawings again | boxes full of doodles | iced coffee

(by @iniquitouspoppy!)  cuddling with pets | collecting art | journaling at night | flower dresses | raccoon eyes | thunderstorms | listening to music in bed | gaming | anything (pastel) rainbow | jumpsuits | taking pictures with an old camera | pictures everywhere | spending time with friends until the sun goes down | being alone and loving it | being alone and hating it | reading in the train or bus | just reading all the time | biking everywhere | buying flowers | biting your lip | blue skies, white clouds | big tattoos | piercings | stargazing |

(by @hauntedlilies!)  the smell of petrichor | dancing | strong coffee | laughing with your whole body | morning sex | re-reading books from your childhood | being touchy with everyone | art history | travelling alone | sweaty bodies in the club | red wine | trying out new dishes (cooking) | marzipan | elaborate daydreams | spicy food | multiple earrings | city sounds | boardgames with friends | empty museums | shooting stars |

(by @sweetae-tae)  zoning out when talking to someone | travelling with friends | concerts and music festivals | doing something just because it makes others happy | being happy when loved ones are happy | mom-friending everyone | buying new flowers you know nothing about | baking for others | trying out new things | listening to one song on repeat for hours | not being able to find one specific song to listen to | doing things to keep your ming busy | a cool breeze during warm days | staying up for “just one more episode” | wishing on dandelions | collecting four-leaf-clovers | dimples | contagious laughter | decorating your room with photos and postcards and posters | winter nights when it snows heavily

(by @thatmultifandomhoe) dyed/fading colored hair | maxi skirts and tank tops | books everywhere | gardening | giving items a new purpose | finding joy in doing you makeup | getting sad after doing your makeup | dressing up just to stay at home | silver jewelry | multiple piercings | losing rings | coffee stains on desk | pen pals | touch starved | leather jackets | always cold even in the summer | clinging to that one stuffed animal that’s seen better days | notebooks half filled |  messy handwriting |  sticking pens/pencils in hair |  easily forgetting things | blue eyes that are more grey |  sentimental | cries easily |  clinging to memories |  feathered earrings |  always playing music  

(by @hobicomeholla29) oversized t-shirts | thick rimmed glasses | sneakers | lo-fi beats in the background | singing out loud when home alone | messy bun | extensive Pinterest boards | bare feet at home | day dreaming | camping | lots of pillows | boots | different playlists for different occasions | dancing everywhere | thinking about random scenarios | online friends | cooking | sleeping late |scarfs | traveling |

Tagging: @foxybread @bangtanloverboys @dawndrms @crazy4myself @minniepetals @yoongi-sugaglider @moccahobi @hyyunjins

[kitkatwinchester]

Aesthetic Tag Game

Thanks for tagging me @jelly-pies and @letscatchyoulater! I know you guys tagged me a while ago, but it took me a bit to come up with my own aesthetics lol. It was super fun though!! 

Rules: Bold the aesthetics you relate to and add twenty of your own aesthetic qualities for others to bold

(soft!) baby pink | iridescent | glitter is always a good option | no bra | minimalistic tattoos | cherry patterns | sweet scented perfumes | wearing generous amounts of blush | doodling hearts | getting excited to pet an animal | fun nails | rewatching old barbie movies | hair sticking to glossed lips | heart shaped sunglasses | taking pictures of the sunset or sunrise | stuffed animals | protecting nature | stickers everywhere | teen movies | the light rain that falls from a clear sky at the beginning of the night | 

(dark academia!) neutral tones | masculine outfits | studying languages | worn down copy of books | grey skies | turtleneck sweaters | loose fitting pants | hair tied with a silk ribbon | trying to remember a cool difficult word you read somewhere to use in a convo | thick belts | minimal makeup | windows fogged by rain | vintage jewelry | blouses with cuffed sleeves | reading a murder mystery and trying to solve it | oxford style shoes | sweater vests | subtitled old movies in a language you don’t speak | leaves crackling as you walk | annotating books to express your emotions about the story |

(edgy!) closet full of dark clothes | fishnet tights | makeup sweating off | neon signs | searching for unknown songs | chokers | band tees | doodling on old converses | finding smoking aesthetically pleasing but not doing it | weird humor | accidentally very dramatic | dim lights | layered outfits | chain belts | chipped nail polish | messy hair | low quality pics | piercings | combat boots | scribbling on desks |

(seventies!) colorful wardrobe | doodling flowers | wearing short shorts | using a bikini top or bra as a normal top | listening to ABBA | flowers in your hair | DIYing everything | jamming to songs alone in your room | drunkenly telling your friends you love them | patterned bandanas | mid heeled shoes | messy braids | flared sleeves | walking barefoot on grass or sand | bold sunglasses | the good kind of tired you get after doing something you enjoy for hours | feeding stray animals | fun patterned socks | room decorated with succulents and other plants | likes to go roller skating or skateboarding |

(preppy casual!) collared clothes | drinking juice out of a champagne glass | getting excited to see the met gala looks | thick headbands | small pastel cardigans | making your friends take your ootd pics | plaid mini skirts | tweed two pieces | watching reality tv to pass time | frilly tops | watching old hollywood movies | academically driven | long manicured nails | new year’s eve fireworks | colorful tights | layered golden jewelry | yearns for luxury brand items | decorating your room with fairy-lights | cursive and neat handwriting | lace details

(@masterninjacow) rainy mornings | sweet steaming tea | cats’ purrs | daydreaming about fantasies | back hugs | glinting necklaces | loud video games | grumbling thunder | constantly chewing gum | wearing nothing but a t-shirt and underwear to bed | watching horror movies at night | nibbling on chocolates | talking to yourself | short hair | sad lofi music | messy sketches | sweet-scented body wash | spicy noodles at midnight | hating physical affection but craving it at the same time | ending all texts with lmao or rip

(@cherriigguk) | dried flowers | painting at 2 am in oversized sweater| up until sunrise | abundance of blankets and plushies | minimalistic colours | writing when you can’t sleep | warm banana bread on a winters day | stroking a sleepy dog | big eyeliner | butterfly clips | lo-fi hip hop | glossy lips and rose tinted cheeks | afternoon tea with old friends | oversized cardigans | herbal tea | dainty jewellery | self-care evenings | messy low bun or ponytails | dark hair | too many sketchbooks

(@bisoo) Fairy lights | Walking in the woods | night city | waves sound | drinking hot chocolate or tea during raining days | being wrapped in a blanket | polaroids | pastel stuff | mint tea | cats��� furr | baked brownies or cookies | French toast/pancakes for breakfast | drinking tea at 3 am with friends | café | doing braids on your friend’s hair | lots of plushies | doing old drawings again | boxes full of doodles | iced coffee

(@midnightlunaandinnerfangirl) having tons of plushies | wearing black | knitting | making your own clothes | napping in the sun | dancing in your bedroom | reading books in your bed | oversized hoodies | combat boots | flowy dresses | lots of piercings | wearing multiple rings on your fingers | gardening | ripped black jeans | chokers | wearing tights | oversized sweaters | black nail polish | holding babies | coffee

(@superherotiger) Posters on your bedroom walls | Marvel/Star Wars shirts | hot chocolate at night | platonic cuddling | family jewellery | ocean breeze | sand on your feet | reading books in the sunlight | stuffed toys | big jackets | black hair | playing games | night owl | clean and orderly | blues and greens | trinkets from travels | LEGO | unfinished sketch books | sunny days | starry nights

(@an-odd-idea) constant daydreaming | full notes app | studying maps | staying up late | meaningful jewelry | searching for music to match what you’re writing | loving deeply | always cold | cuddling cats | no makeup | long hair | camp t-shirts | songs on repeat | singing in the car | fuzzy blanket | chamomile tea | midnight snacks | summer nostalgia | bad at hugs but really wanting them anyway | holding hands |

(@jelly-pies) ink on your hands | doodling random quotes/song lyrics | t-shirts and denim shorts | keeping mints in your purse | lip balm | talking to inanimate objects | half-full journals | backpacks | fandom trinkets | flip-flops | board games | songs from original movie soundtracks | holding conversations with kids | fanarts saved to your phone | lying on the grass | floating on your back in the water | full hearty breakfasts | casual side-hugs | dozing off anywhere | fruit shakes |

(@letscatchyoulater) misty sunrises | peppermint tea with milk and honey | sunlight filtering down between trees | lots of warm, squeezing hugs | vanilla scented candles  | found family fics | watching raindrops fall down the window pane | drinking hot chocolate alone at a cafe | different playlists for different moods and activities | subtle fandom pun shirts and stuff | hurt/comfort | wireless headphones for care-free dancing | crisp autumn days | shadowy forest trails | calm seas and stormy lakes | reading just one more chapter before going to sleep | cocooning oneself in a blanket burrito | chocolate biscuits | platonic cuddle piles | randomly singing and humming everywhere

(@kitkatwinchester) constantly listening to music | ruffling siblings’ hair | dancing like nobody’s watching | head in someone’s lap| reading in a corner with a desk lamp | always saying “I love you” to friends and family | long bike rides | sunsets by the lake | late night phone calls | writing when emotional | playing random instruments when you walk by them | family doesn’t end with blood | always having something to talk about | nocturnal | organized chaos in your room | easily losing track of time | really long hugs from the people you love | always wearing fandom gear| organizing things into folders/albums | taking lots of fall photos

I’m tagging @baloobird, @jen27ny, @crowleyellestair, @howdoistopthetrain, @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover, @ironfamjam, @jolinarjackson, @irondad-not-ironsad, @joyful-soul-collector, @justme--emily, and @annieshurley.