#unreal bone structure

[seoksoonwoo]

DK ☆ Let me hear you say @ Caratland 2025 D-2

[maximura]

[faithinlouisfuture]

literally face of all time

[astrowrld300]

Astro Observations

Pt 2

It's so unreal how well Taurus placements can cook. Especially if there's Cancer in the big three. Taurus suns also have natural green thumbs

Cancer suns with Gemini Venuses are in constant conflict between they're ego and what they actually desire for love

This is definitely becoming common knowledge on the internet but all Libra placements that are personal and not generational are gay to some extent. Something about the scales allows them to go both ways I don't know . Depending on the placement and degree, it might make them uncomfortable, or the may proudly embrace it. But personal Libra placements can definitely go both ways

Cardinal signs are obsessed with each other, even though they're so toxic for each other.

5th house and Leo placements really love music. Leo rules the 5th house which is all about music, creativity and fun. So these natives really feel it.

Having your sun in the 11th house is a beautiful placement and creates a selfless person, but its the only placement for the sun to not be about "I" anymore. The sun is all about ego and self, ruled by Aries, but the 11th house is all about the collective, friends and the "greater good". Your ego is also heavily influenced by the collective and how you insert your self into the world.

Taurus moons have round/visible nostrils. They all have a green thumb for cooking as well

Aquarius suns and moons have very square shaped jawlines. Both the men and women.

The best sun+rising combo I've ever seen for Aquarius suns has to be Cancer rising. The blend is really heavenly and harmonious, the Cancer really softens out the Aquarian features perfectly (talking about the women idk about the men). This is only physical though

The best combo for Cancer suns definitely has to be Virgo in the big three. Either in the moon or rising, Virgo gives Cancer this snatched look that blends perfectly with the bone structure of cancer suns. (I'm also mostly referring to women here I don't know about the men) Although physically pretty, the combo creates a super insecure individual

Travel is such a big theme in the lives of natives with personal 9th house placements. It almost becomes the focus of life if there's a stellium.

Having your moon at 17 degrees (a critical Leo degree) makes you hella dramatic with your feelings. They're still valid, but you come off as a drama queen when feeling them.

Cancer suns are just as insecure and attention seeking as Leo when underdeveloped. Even though they're not sister signs they're ruled by the sun and moon, so essentially they are each other inside out.

Pisces is represented by the fish and the suns usually have big/swelled features and look a little bit like fish. Virgo placements have sharper/more defined features and Aries placements have prominent/tighter features.

Neptune aspecting Venus is a very underrated beauty indicator for transits and natal charts

Sagittarius rising are blessed with good luck in life since their chart ruler is Jupiter, the planet of luck. They also have hips on the larger side since Sagittarius rules the hips

Capricorn rules the skeletal part of the body and the native suns really have that skeleton bone structure in the face

Moon conjunct Rising is one of my favorite placements synastry placements for friendships. They are each other inside out and understand each other without words.

The most underrated house for the moon imo is the 9th house. The moon does really well here, there's a natural optimism and lightness to their feelings and emotions. I think this is from the influence of Sagittarius and Jupiter. They're also really funny people naturally and have a kind of intelligent humor

Cancer and Taurus placements are such big foodies. They also know how to cook very well and genuinely enjoy getting fat over other signs. Obviously all signs have the ability to cook, but Cancers and Tauruses make that home cooked comfort food that tastes like the feeling of your mom carrying you to bed.

5th house moons never feel emotionally fulfilled unless they're feeling some kind of fun or pleasure in life.

Taurus suns are the definition of work smarter not harder

Aries Mercuries are so smart especially if the sun is in Taurus or Gemini.

Geminis are known to talk with their hands and Italy's rising sign is literally Gemini...

You can always tell someone is Somali from the size of their forehead and the countries rising sign is literally Aries

Venus in the 8th house natal and synastry is that kind of ride or die love

Capricorn sun men actually think people what to hear their life lessons/lectures. It's really corny but they genuinely think they're helping. They also care so much about their rep but will never admit it. It makes sense because they rule the tenth house which is the house of popularity and is associated with our public image and rep. So obviously when Capricorn is in the sun, planet of self, their ego is closely tied with how they're perceived by others.

Scorpio moons are low key delusional but it's okay you guys had a rough childhood/relationship with your mother

The sexual attraction is crazy when you have the same mars sign as your partners rising sign (example. Leo mars-Leo rising) or if you have your mars opposite to their mars (example. Leo mars-Aquarius mars)

Aries moon women in red or leopard print is so perfect

Your gonna love the sun sign of whatever your rising sign is since the sun will naturally embody all the traits that you admire and will effortlessly be everything you want to be portrayed as.

Taurus risings, suns and moons look like bulls

Cancer venuses can lowkey hold down gemini venuses, it���s really harmonious for friendships. Not as compatible relationship wise because cancer venuses really don’t mess with how gemini venuses love. The love languages are just too different but when there are no constricting boundaries and it’s more of a playful friendship this pairing really works

[mimipolo]

Kim seo-wan x reader pt 2

Sorry for taking so long I fear my hyperfixation is dwindling💔

Pt 1

"Seo-wan?" your voice carries a hoarseness of disbelief that has his eyes snapping up to meet yours.

"[Name]...?"

"Seo! I can't believe you're...!" As you descend the few extra steps to come face to face with him your smile falters. He looks tired. Exhausted. Like it was too much to carry the weight on his bones. Your dimming excitement was clear and he couldn't bear to see it. It was the same face his parents made when they came to pick him up. Happy, relieved, and yet so afraid. Nervous that anything could send him back that downward spiral. He doesn't want to worry them, but what could he expect?

Looking at you felt like a dream, after so many months at the hospital it was like he was relearning the structure of your face. You look more tired too, but in the way it's shown you've matured, experienced new things. Effectively using the time he'd been away, away for far too long. His former mediator, his goal, you were everything he admired and more, so much it hurt to be near you and watch you bloom. Though it was all he wished. It just would've been better if he could stand beside you on that pedestal.

It was like you had everything figured out. You understood your own balance, able to handle change when exams didn't go your way and still were able to find stable footing. And from the sound of it from neighbours, still found a respectable job all in an entirely new country. You were unreal to him. Everything he wanted and wanted to be, but he just couldn't.

"[Name]." He mutters awkwardly pushing up his glasses in that familiar habit you adored.

He hadn't expected to be caught on the way up, he had told himself after Nurse couldn't go for tea if nothing else intervenes he's just do it. But of course you were there, as respectable and calming as you always were.

"It's been a little bit, hasn't it?" he says, forcing a smile you saw through immediately.

He knew his parents had told most people he went across the county to try studying somewhere else for the upcoming exam. Though it didn't matter whatever lie was fabricated as he still failed. Nodding lightly and accepting the condolences of his neighbours for another one of his many losses. He couldn't bear it.

But looking at you now that didn't seem like the story you were told, staring at him like he had come back to life a completely new person. Which was true in its own way, he felt a hollow copy of the person he was before.

"It has... want to come in for tea?"

And he felt himself gravitating towards your prescence, like he always had.

-

Inside your apartment you immediately knew something was off. You'd like to sum it to the classes in physcolgy and mental health you took a few years ago but the signs of it would pain you to even try to ignore. Fatigue was written all over his expression, the Seo-wan that was so stubborn about his goals seemed to be disappearing right in front of you. And you didn't even want to begin to think about why he's so many floors above his if not to visit anyone.

"My mum told you the truth I'm guessing?" your grip on the pot of tea stiffens but you eventually nod to which he sighs shakily, running his hands over his face like it'd get rid of the sour expression on his face.

He hated how he felt ashamed you knew, he hated how badly this has affected him despite his best efforts to go back to a normal life. He wanted to forget it all. Even now, the normal small acts of kindness you always gave him now felt out of sympathy as you handed him a cup of his favourite tea.

"How've you been holding up? You're not studying too hard right?

You really wanted to avoid bombarding him with questions but you couldn't help it. You sat side my side on your couch, you didn't have one of those pretty small tables with cushions his mother had so it was good enough.

He laughed bitterly at your words, he cradled the cup in his hands, despite the sweet aroma and warmth of his favourite tea surrounding his senses he couldn't bring himself to take a sip.

"I guess I have. No surprise I failed these exams too, after all that time I wasted..." Your grip on your own cup visibly tenses at his words, fully shocked he even took the exam in the first place, he had such a small time to prepare how could he expect to get a good result.

"You shouldn't have, look, you just got out the hospital more stress is not what you need." Not when it's what put you there in the first place, is what you'd like to say but you bite your tongue, already feeling yourself over stepping.

"I don't know... it's just embarassing, to think I spent all this time just living in this fantasy world-"

Your brows furrow slightly, not completely aware of the depths of his condition, it was something Mrs Kim didn't feel comfortable to explain to you and you understood that.

"Im sorry-um. I never realised it before but... you were my first mediator, always cheering me on despite it all. I never realised how much it meant till you left your apprenticeship..."

You're setting your cup on the table now, taking his still untouched tea too on placing it there as well. Attentively, you take his hands into yours, your sudden action inclining him to look at you. Your eyes softening when you see the lost yet unwavering gaze he has on you. He always seemed to look at you like that. What you failed to notice is how his hands stopped shaking from the moment you reached out for him, his body felt less jittery, that was just the kind of affect you had on him.

"You should've called, I didn't even know where you were until a week after I came back." His gaze wanders away from yours as you scold him, though he isn't fully upset, not when you're speaking so gently.

"It would be embarassing to, would it not? How else could you see me as someone reliable." For the first time you see the way his face contorts into such a deep hatred for himself, his grip on your hands tightening slightly.

"How could you see me as anything more than this...?" His voice shakes and you feel your heart drop. Your thumbs start to run over the back of his hands, unable to find the right words to stay but still wanting to comfort him. You knew what he was feeling, having felt it directly and from people around you. That weird sense of shame you have to carry, though whatever happened to you was far out of your control.

"Seo... There's nothing to be ashamed or worried about. You're still someone I admire and want to see grow."

His gaze meets you confused. You admire him? How could you when all he's done is fail since he met you. But you recognised features he missed in himself. His absolute focus, determination and thoughtfullness to his family were just a few.

"I truly admire how strong you are, so don't do anything stupid." You can't help the way your throat tightens up at the end.

His eyes immediately rim with tears at your words, he didn't expect you to guess why he was so many floors above his own. But it was clear, he wasn't on his way to see anyone else, more than happy to go to your apartment.

"I'm far from impressive [Name]." He mumbled with a small laugh, followed soon after with a short sob, tears involuntary falling as he holds your hands tighter.

Your hands leave his to wipe away at the tears as they fell, thumbing them away with a carefulness that made him shudder. Taking off his tear stained glasses for him, setting them aside. When your arms return outstretched he doesn't hesitate to fall into them. Letting out all the tears he'd refused to shed in the hollow walls of his house.

"Well I think you are, and I'm usually right so you should too."

He chuckled again against your shoulder and you laugh alongside him. For the first time since returning home he felt like he was alive again, whole. Maybe it was time to accept his friends were right and it was more than just admiration he felt for you. But that could wait another day. Another day where he'd like to see you again.

DID IT‼️‼️ Sorry this turned out more angsty than expected that happens when I'm tired.

Tag list: @kimseo-wan @keimitchy @rohjaewonlvr

[imagineastrology]

Random Astro Notes ✨️

♡ Sun in the 11th could indicate dominating friends.

♡ Saturn in 1st ppl are considerate.

♡ Saturn in 1st ppl also have excellent bone structure and teeth.

♡ Neptune in 1st ppl can be master manipulators if they are angry or feel disrespected.

♡ Uranus in the 3rd House individuals could experience many accidents around their environment or childhood.

♡ Pluto in 4th ppl need therapy...das all I'm going to say...

♡ Aries, Cancer, Libra, Scorpio or Leo near your Midheaven has the ability to envision their highest achievements, hence why they are ambitious.

♡ Chiron in the 9th or aspects to the ascendant could indicate a fear of horses! Chiron in Greek Mythology was half man half centaur (horse).

♡ Lilith in 1st, 8th, and 12th ppl could take an interest in taxidermy.

♡ Asteroid Nessus (7066) in the 1st House can indicate bad impulse control.

♡ If there is a lack of 1st House planets in your chart, it can mean your physical body is not THAT important to you.

♡ Venus in 3rd house ppl can be hand and arm models!

♡ Saturn, Mars, Pluto, Uranus in the 4th house ppl often get confused with receiving love and it may feel 'unreal' or too fake to feel substantial. These people need patience when opening up, contrary to what we believe.

♡ 5th House stelliums!! Get into speculative activities like the stock market...thank me later ;)

♡ Chiron in the 5th may have felt threatened or ashamed when expressing themselves in some form or another.

♡ Aries moon people move on from tricky situations so fast..

♡ Moon in 7th House people may subconsciously attract unstable and fickle partners.

♡ Saturn in the 9th could result in extremist behaviours.

♡ Any malefic planet in the 10th house natives laugh at setbacks as they have had so many.

♡ Virgo Ascendant ppl approach life and people in an orderly, polite, careful, and punctual way.

♡ Capricorn mars people either do things the right way or not at all.

♡ Scorpio mars ppl have trust issues and are reluctant to show themselves to people.

[kitsunekitty]

dream girl affirmations 🎀

these are the affirmations that i repeated to myself every morning and afternoon that literally made me gorgeous 💗

people always describe me as stunning, gorgeous, beautiful

people know me for how pretty i am

i always catch people staring at me in public because of how gorgeous i am

i always attract attention because of how beautiful i look

i know i’m gorgeous because everyone tells me so

hundreds of people compliment me daily

people love making me happy because it makes them happy

i get whatever i want when i want, why wouldn’t i when i’m this stunning?

everyone crushes on me

people always want to impress me

i’m so pretty i make people nervous

i’m literally girlfriend material, everyone wants to get with me

i’m everyone’s dream girl

my phone is always blowing up with people texting me and wanting to hang out with me every day is fun for me

i’m never awkward with new people just funny and entertaining i always enjoy my interactions with people

i always steal the show wherever i go because of how gorgeous, hot and funny i am, everyone wants to be me or be with me

i literally look photoshopped i look unreal honestly i look like i’ve just walked out of a tiktok or pinterest board

seeing me is a once in a lifetime experience for people

people remember me for how gorgeous i am

every single feature of mine is perfect i love how it all synergises together

i’m so pretty when people see me they absolutely HAVE to do a double take to make sure who they just saw was real

how am l so effortlessly gorgeous?

im so pretty without trying i was blessed with such a stunning bone structure

i always get pretty privilege, people drop everything to help me and make my life better

i’m immune to attracting negative attention

i’m known for how gorgeous i am

it’s normal for people to compliment me on how stunning i am

i’m used to being treated like a princess

i halo everyone around me

in group pictures, i always stand out as being the prettiest

people of all age groups and genders and ethnicities find me stunning, i’m universally gorgeous

you’re so stunning

people stop and stare when they see you, they just can’t help themselves and who would blame them?

i’m protected from evil eye

[rowansender]

Alight, so

Rituals

Rituals and tabletop games have a decent amount of overlap. There are some superficial similarities: standard procedures, studied rules, and unique tools. Then there are some that are less obvious. These edge more towards the metaphysical: taking on roles beyond yourself and maintaining an unreality through personal or collective will.

I think there is plenty more to dive into on these points. One point I want to drill down into is the place randomness has in the process of either of these.

I originally defined rituals as not having much randomness involved. While I still think that’s true for the total outcome of most rituals, as I’ve worked through this idea, I’ve come to realize that I was leaving out a huge portion, and perhaps the ur-ritual for nearly every magical practice: divinations and fortune telling.

I don’t have the references on hand to really get in depth here, but divining the future is the fundamental inclination in most real world magical traditions. Even the suffix “-mancy” which we use often in contemporary fantasy fiction just means “divination via _____”. Tarot, astrology, reading of tea leaves and burnt bones. Every culture has one, and they almost universally use some tool of randomness (or pseudo randomness in astrology’s case).

You could almost think of rolling for in game outcomes as rolling your characters fortunes. It would be interesting to frame a game in future tense; it all plays out as a vision from an oracle that is telling of your character great journey.

There is still some distinction here from TTRPGs. While process randomness does occur in rituals, there is generally less structural randomness. The idea of a random table for deciding a structural event would generally not appear in a ritual. TTRPGs use GM level random roll tables to determine some level of procedural structure. This is the wrinkle of randomness that doesn’t appear in ritual. This would also apply to character level decisions.

When designing a game that is meant to be played as a ritual, decisions about the structure of the game should be proscriptive. They should lack flexibility in from, but may still flex in the process of playing them.

——

I’ve been wanting to write a bit more in-depth about how Rituals and TTRPGs intersect. I was hoping to do some research and see what else has been written about this idea, but the world has conspired against me. I wanted to get this out near the start of the month and it is what it is.

This is in no way an exhaustive exploration of these ideas. I’d love to hear some of these ideas expanded more by people in the occult world, as I’m not as well read there as I’d like to be.

[schizoid-hikikomori]

I believe this feeling that disconnects me from myself and my existence, that fuels this idea that I shouldn't be human, that I'm not human, could be described by existence dysphoria.

I focus too much on the fact that I exist and it becomes a disconcerting notion, the body becomes alien and the world becomes unreal. Perception shifts beyond what we're taught. Hands don't look like hands, words don't sound like words, objects become illogical masses.

The discomfort of flesh wrapped around a bone structure and functions that must be maintained become dysphoria. Nothing aligns right.

Ideas expressed in Nausea regarding the state and realization of existing explain it perfectly.

[eeerilyrealistic]

kathy acker blood and guts in high school finished 06082025 in the sleeper van on the way to brussels

a decadent, surrealist, absurd piece of fiction. erratic insertions of non-plausible characters and happenings, which reveal societal truths and philosophical revelations through humor. streams of thought interrupted, eroticization of political and power structures, introspective defiance, nonsensical yet tragic plotlines that seek to reveal underlying meanings. minimizes human desires to: eating, sleeping, fucking, loving. rejection of systemic value, experimentation with absolute loss of self, personhood, dignity; you are reduced to scum. janey, the abject of our story, is inherently manipulative and immature due to an abusive and traumatizing upbringing.

she is repeatedly cast aside and doomed to fail-- perpetually oppressed due to characteristics obtained outside her control. yet, she is still cognizant, speaking, and defying until her demise.

masternote of quotes i like that are insightful and not vulgar:Boppy doppy doopy wah yahyah mm. Is that what you think craziness is? Are you scared you're going crazy? Do people who go crazy freak you? Look sweetheart.

I live on a desert island. It’s a nice desert island. I like it here. This is what I do: I eat; I sleep; when it rains and gets cold, I hide under some rocks. I like it here. But I'm getting bored... What can I do? I can repeat what I see. I can draw this old grey trunk lying flat across a valley of sand.

You can buy anything but health. If a person isn't healthy, even if he is very famous and rich, he has nothing.

OK These are characteristics. I can either do what I want to (satisfy my characteristics) or not bother.

This is a message to myself. You are pursuing your own desires and your own desires are BORING.

Once upon a time, there was a materialistic society. One of the results of this materialism was a 'sexual revolution'. Since the materialistic society had succeeded in separating sex from every possible feeling, all you girls can now go spread your legs as much as you want 'cause it’s sooo easy to fuck it's sooo easy to be a robot it’s sooo easy not to feel.

The world I perceive, everything I perceive are indicators of my boring needs... All my emotions, no matter how passionate, are based on my needs.

Living locked up in a slave trader's room is easy. I mean, you have the same emotions over and over again, the same thoughts, the same body, and after a while, you see it's all in your mind: you're stuck to your mind. SLAVESLAVESLAVE.

ALL EXISTENCE HAS A GOLDEN SHEEN.

No matter what love what joy, what agony you know alive, soon alone you will be dead with me, and I will rub bones love with mingled bones.

...he has to perfectly read his lover's mind, silently, unobtrusively, like a corpse, and figure out at every changing second what his lover wants.

Trust is loss of thought.

One of the most destructive forces in the world is love. For the following reason:

The world is a conglomeration of objects, no, of events and the approaching of events towards objects, therefore of becoming stases, static, stagnant, of all that is unreal. You get in the world, you get your daily life—your routine doesn’t matter if you’re rich poor legal illegal—you begin to believe what doesn’t change is real, and love comes along and shows all these unchangeable forever fixtures to be flimsy paper bits. Love can tear anything to shreds.

Heavily ornamented and constructed so beyond human scale they cause fear.

Well, I couldn't help it, I just LOVE to fuck, he was SO cute, it was worth it.

You're acting hypocritically, Janey. It's because you're male-centred. Look at me. I don't smile when I don't feel like it and I don't go out of my way to help anyone.

I don't give a shit about anything

I don't have to do anything

everything lives

Your conception of who you are has always, at least partially, depended on how the people around you behaved towards you. You sensed the people around you aren't right: what you did, your need, you weren't defying them to defy them, it was your need, was OK. You don't know. How can you know anything?

The roads are getting so super-paved and big and light and loaded with BIG MACS and HOWARD JOHNSON that the only time people are forced into danger or reality is when they die.

[armentas]

Writing Share Tag

Thank you @orphanheirs for tagging me!

So, this may not look like much length-wise, but I'm a pretty succinct writer and struggle with word count a ton. Additionally, I don't tend to write scenes that tie into each other all at once, and this is my first time actually attempting to bring a scene of this nature to fruition.

By that, I mean it calls for some trigger warnings; it gets intense! Also, it's intentionally pretty confusing.

TW FOR: Unreality, drug use, negative attitudes toward drug use, death, and cops being fucked up.

Since the excerpt is about 1500 words, I'll drop my no-pressure taglist here: @angrbodawrites @sidhewrites @spideronthesun !

I'm actually not done editing, but 1. I really just want to get this out there already and 2. I need to get used to people witnessing me being imperfect. My brain is FRIED from writing nonstop, so if you see any pacing issues, weird tone changes, etc, those will be fixed over the next couple days. Enjoy!

The evening's indigo slices the walls. Erin and Beau’s faces light up from a passing car, like honey jars burning in the sun. Erin stirs on her kitchen floor, bleary eyed, sweat filming the laminate.

Beau stands over her. She can only see the popcorn ceiling, but she knows it’s Beau. She would know him hiding in her hall closet for a surprise party—his presence seeps into other things, like a burst egg yolk.

She sits up with difficulty to meet Beau's face, more mannequin than human being. He’s oddly motionless like one, too. Familiar, yet foreign, as if someone took his basic bone structure and moved it an inch to the left. She's seen plenty of things waking up on her kitchen floor, sure, but something about it has her stomach turning on itself.

He steps closer while she squints for good measure, and she realizes: he’s older. Much older. His eyes are deeper set, his shoulders broader, and he tilts his head at her, jewelry glinting.

“Are you alright?”

Erin’s heart clatters in her chest. Her fingers prod wildly at her face, now, trying to glean any of her own changes from touch alone. Where she expects her fingertips to raise over patches of acne, they flatten, cover divots around her forehead from past irritations. Her cheekbones jut through skin like they could pierce straight through. When did she chop her hair? How much time did she just lose?

“I made you some tea.”

Her eyes dart to Beau, his hands hugging and placing a navy mug on a cork board coaster, the one Heather carved into a heart. That detail’s not new. She sniffs sharply, rubbing her temples.

This is a bad trip, she thinks. A really bad trip. But it’s not worse, not more realistic than ones she’s had before. As long as she focuses on that fact instead of jumping off the balcony or walking into traffic, she’ll be okay. Erin shakily breathes in, breathes out, stutters to her feet toward the table.

“…Thank you.”

Her hallucinations can smell fear. Best to act normal.

She sits and brings the mug to her lips. Honey and chamomile scald her tongue, but she gulps it down, anyway, easing her shriveled throat. Beau leans in the open archway between living room and kitchen. The rest of the house appears about as she remembers it: a hamper of dirty laundry on the couch, ceramic pots and pans shoved on top of the cabinets before they hit the ceiling, photos of her and her father pinned to the wall, though she could swear one of them just winked. She quickly focuses on Beau, instead.

Her vision's clearing, albeit slowly. Scars form crisp lines through Beau's face and droop his right eyelid.

“Want to talk about it?” he asks.

Leave it to him to be more concerned about her feelings than his injury, she thinks. Though there’s no swelling, no redness. It would have happened a while ago.

If it happened, she remembers. If this is real.

She swallows her nausea.

“There’s not much to talk about.”

“Something must’ve gone wrong,” Beau says.

He glances where she once laid on the floor, panic-stricken. Fair point.

“I…don’t know. I don’t remember.”

She genuinely doesn’t. That’s the beauty of it.

He takes her empty mug and washes it in the sink, rust crumbling its edges.

“Doesn’t do you any favors," he says.

Erin bites her cheek and tears a sliver of flesh. Beau's casual tone hides nothing; he loves giving advice without giving advice. It's his main hobby, other than gardening, and doing dishes for those he pities. Maybe she shouldn't be so harsh, but she's tired of being a kitchen knife in people's hands, grasped with caution, upside down in the sink for fear of bloodshed.

An amber beam splits Beau's face when he pinches the blinds open, turns the faucet off. The whites of his eyes peek from underneath his lashes.

"…Mi vida, why are the cops here?" he asks.

"The cops?"

The world tilts sideways. Erin tears open the blinds for herself. Sure enough, there's two police cars parked in her driveway with panicked red-and-blue lights. An officer glances in their direction, and she snaps them shut again, heart pounding.

"Erin, what did you do?"

"I didn't do anything!" She blurts out. "I—I don't think…"

Hand on her forehead, she scours her memory. She'd laid lines on her desk, so the chances she went out, committed a crime, and made it back home are slim. After that, it's nothing but hazy, bright colors, fragments of sitting on her couch.

That leaves her dealer getting caught. That leaves her getting caught.

The door claps like thunder. The knob shakes.

"It's the police! Open up!"

Her chest shudders like she'll burst a lung. She paces around her kitchen. This can't be happening. She's careful, she's too careful.

"They know you did something, and I know you did something, so you may as well just say it." Beau's tone is stiff.

Erin doesn't fear angry people. You've already learned their intricacies, how to tranquilize them and how to egg them on. It's people who believe in deep breaths. Hell knows how hard those years of built-up rage will bowl you over, and she wants both hands on the cork, knuckles white and split open.

But it's too late. Beau is already throwing sparks. Every muscle in his body is tight, like rigor mortis set in.

Her vision flashes. She's in Beau's kitchen; they're shouting at each other, and he throws something at the wall.

"You know what? You deserve this."

She can't tell which Beau is speaking. She can hardly even tell what she's seeing. He walks forward, and she steps back, fingers searching for the table when she trips over a chair leg. Her spine stings against the carpet.

He's motioning to the front door, still rattling under the weight of the police.

"How weak do you have to be that you can't make it through anything without a hit?"

"Open up!" they shout again.

Tears wobble the edge of his voice. His eyes burn into hers like acid. Everything is spinning, nonsensical images crack her skull open. Shattered glass. Bitten nails.

"You wonder why things ended up this way when the answer's right in front of you."

"I don't know what you're talking about!" she begs.

Erin and Beau are holding hands. She lets a handful of dirt go into the void. Her thumb caresses a hospital bracelet. She's buried in his shoulder while he rubs her back. She's alone, dying her head blue, and she's in his kitchen, crying, his voice vibrating through her body: I don't want to end up a druggie.

"It's your fault. It was your fault, and you know it. You fuck up everything you touch!"

The door bursts open. The hinges fly past Beau's face. A primal noise escapes her as a man snatches her off the floor, pats down her legs while the others search the house.

Her head's on fire, snot's greasing her face. Erin's fighting for air against her own tears, but she still can't breathe.

"I'm sorry. Beau, I'm sorry…"

Beau watches like a statue, encased in betrayal.

"I know," he says. Officers slam cupboards, turn furniture around him. "That's not enough."

***

Erin gasps. She's in her bedroom, everything's quiet. Beau sits with her—her Beau, the young one, the one with an unblemished face. Her science project sits untouched in the corner, her favorite books, dog-eared, tipping on their shelf.

"It's okay. You're okay," he says, "I think you're coming down from it."

Breathing shakily, she runs a hand through her hair. The strands trail over her elbows. He's the only pillar keeping her upright as he speaks,

"Hey, it's all over... What was it you took?"

He doesn't understand. How trips work, how this works. It's only just started. Even if she hasn't worked out the how, the why—she knows the grit of the dirt of her palm. Her birthday in three years. It comes to her in a tidal wave. Beau will slip on the floor he just cleaned as he brings the cake out, and they'll laugh and get in the car and have a storebought one, instead, frosting sticking to their hands in the parking lot because they forgot to buy forks. Well, Erin will laugh about it, anyway. Beau's eyes will crinkle, but that grocery store mush will taste to him like defeat.

You learn the drill of fact and fiction when you fuck with reality like she does, what hallucinations deceive best. A confusion has gnawed on her for years, and somehow, some way, she knows why. Time has folded like a piece of paper onto itself, the edges of seventeen and twenty-five touching. Somehow, she's become whole, irreparably.

Beau's voice is as soft as a stone skipping.

"Can you remember?" he asks again.

He's blissfully unaware the most blaring problem right now isn't whatever is on his mind: she's scared, she's dehydrated, she'll need a hand with her project on Thursday. It isn't even the rip in space-time, though it will definitely take an adjustment.

It's the sweat-soaked earth she carries. Her trembling when her turn comes, because someone has to be brave for Heather. It's the low thud reverberating as it hits his coffin.

Her blood freezes in her veins. They stare into each other's eyes. Erin races to the bathroom, locks the door, and vomits in the sink.

[dolljennie]

The slavic doll effect

I am incredibly beautiful and amazingly alluring.

I have the beauty and aura of a Slavic model.

I am the highest form of intense beauty embodied. I love looking like such a beautiful, Slavic doll. I love who I am. I bring so much light and radiant beauty to everything. My beautiful smile lights up any room. I am so incredibly confident. I radiate the most beautiful, loving feminine energy. I am an incredible powerhouse of feminine energy, love, intelligence, beauty and Slavic doll energy. All of my incredible inner beauty shines bright on the outside. My beauty is so unreal. I am the most beautiful doll ever. I have my dream body. I am so graceful and gorgeous.

My beautiful face is absolutely flawless and perfect.

I am naturally gracious and good natured.

My heart is pure and my intentions are good.

I have my exact desired beautiful face.

Everyone tells me I look like a stunningly gorgeous Slavic doll.

I have the most gorgeous, striking stunning eyes anyone has ever seen.

My eyes sparkle so beautifully and the whites of my eyes are bright white. My beautiful lashes are naturally super long, thick and lush.

My face is perfect and symmetrical. All of my facial features are flawless. I have the cutest, small pixie nose. I have high, beautiful cheekbones, perfect bone structure. My lips are full, soft and pouty with a perfect cupid's bow shape. My lips are naturally soft, full, plump, smooth and the perfect rosy color, even without wearing any lipstick.

I have the cutest, perfect, flawless chin.

My jawline is so perfect. My side profile is angelic, statuesque and perfect.

My skin is super soft, youthful, flawless, clear and perfect.

I am the most prettiest girl in the world.

I have the most beautiful doll-like Slavic beauty ever.

I have a very loving, kind heart. I treat everyone with kindness and respect.

I look the most beautiful, perfect supermodel.

People are in awe of my perfect, doll-like beauty. I have my dream body. I carry myself so gracefully and beautifully.

I am so incredibly worthy of anything I desire.

I am so deserving of all the love I desire.

Self love is an important part of my daily routine.

I am so incredibly worthy of all of my blessings.

I easily and effortlessly attract enormous amounts of abundance into my life all the time.

It is my birthright to be spoiled and treated like a princess.

I am so worthy of attracting only the highest quality people into my life.

I always protect my energy, because I know how precious and sacred my energy is.

I am extremely beautiful and amazing inside and out.

My beauty comes from within, and I am always glowing and radiant.

People everywhere are always mesmerized by my exquisite beauty and magnetic charm.

I radiate striking beauty and positive, beautiful energy wherever I go.

I am the most beautiful girl in the world.

I have the face of the most beautiful angel Slavic doll.

I have my exact desired face.

I am absolutely perfect from head to toe from the inside out.

I know my self worth, and my confidence level is unshakable. I am beautiful, and I treat everyone I encounter with kindness and loving energy.

[faithinlouisfuture]

someone buy this man some brown contacts before he puts me in an early grave 🪦

[bipolarman2022]

The Man Who Whispered to Storms

I. The Roar of the Sea

The night was a wild beast. The storm howled with uncontrollable fury, tearing the sky apart with lightning that slashed through the darkness like blades of fire. The wind howled with a deep, malevolent tone, as if the very ocean was crying out in agony. The waves, monsters of water and foam, rose menacingly, towering over the ship’s deck like hungry colossi, ready to swallow the vessel whole at any moment.

The sea had no mercy. Every blow made the wooden structure groan, every crashing wave brought more than water—it carried the threat of the inevitable, the imminence of a fate written in the foam. The ship twisted and rocked like a wounded warrior in a battle he could not win. But he… he did not surrender.

II. The Fearless Navigator

He was an imposing man, as large as a sea giant, with muscles sculpted by the same waves that now sought to break him. His skin was roughened by the sun and salt, and his broad chest, covered in a thick mantle of hair, rose and fell with the heavy breath of one facing something greater than himself. His prominent belly was not a sign of neglect, but of strength—of years spent battling the sea, of a body that had endured everything and still stood tall.

His face was marked by determination. His jaw was set, his expression grave and severe, his dark eyes locked onto the storm before him. Droplets of seawater ran down his bare skin, mixing with sweat, with anguish, and with rage. He clung to the helm as if it were his only connection to the real world, as if letting go would mean falling into oblivion.

But what tormented him most was not the ocean’s fury, nor the weight of the storm, nor even the exhaustion clinging to his bones.

It was the presence.

Because he knew… he was not alone.

III. The Man of the Storm

Between the mist and the fury of the sea, between the shadows the night cast over the raging waters, he appeared.

First, it was only a whisper in the wind. A lament carried by the howling hurricane.

Then, a silhouette.

Dark. Towering. Almost unreal.

And then, a bolt of lightning illuminated his face.

He was bald, completely, as if the wind had swept away every trace of hair from his head. His skin was the color of the ocean’s depths, shifting between dark and pale tones, as if he belonged to another world. His bare torso was marked with ancient scars, lines that seemed etched by the sea itself—stories carved into flesh by time and suffering.

His eyes…

They were the worst.

Black, unfathomable, as deep as the abyss beneath the waves. Eyes that stared without seeing, that absorbed all light and returned it transformed into something inhuman, into something that should not exist.

And when he spoke, his voice was not a voice. It was thunder.

—You forgot me.

IV. The Lighthouse and the Memory

The navigator felt the impact of those words in his chest as if he had been struck by a towering wave.

Forgotten?

No. That couldn’t be.

And yet, something inside him cracked, something that had always been there, buried, waiting to be awakened.

A name… lost in the foam of memory.

A face… once loved, once longed for.

A man… who had once been his everything.

The memories crashed over him like a storm even fiercer than the one surrounding him.

There had been a farewell. A distant port. A broken promise. There had been nights when their bodies melted under the glow of the moon, where the sound of the sea was the only witness to a love that seemed infinite. There had been caresses on damp skin, stolen kisses in the salty breeze, promises that should never have been broken.

But he had left.

He had abandoned him.

And now, the sea was claiming him.

But he was not alone in the darkness.

Far in the distance, amidst the storm, the lighthouse still shone.

A single point of light, a guide within the chaos.

A sign.

V. The Final Decision

The man of the storm raised a hand, and the wind seemed to bend to his will. The waves roared, and the ship groaned as if it were about to be torn apart.

—Come back to me. His voice was a plea, a command, an echo of the past that had never died.

The navigator looked at the lighthouse, at the storm, at the man he had once loved and who had now become the fury of the ocean itself.

He knew he had two choices.

He could keep sailing, clinging to the helm, fighting against fate, leaving behind the memories and the truth.

Or he could let go.

Let the sea claim him.

Let love claim him.

Let the man he had forgotten take him back to where he truly belonged.

His fingers loosened their grip on the helm.

The wind howled.

The sea opened to receive him.

And when the storm finally passed…

The ship was still there.

But he was gone.

Only the lighthouse remained lit, a silent witness to a story only the sea would remember.

[mielmoto]

Wing Anatomy, Texture, and Appearance

( a.k.a. "what has bird been overthinking to the umpteenth degree for the last two weeks", and "why do i keep seeing words like 'chitin,' 'lamellar,' or 'lamina', etc." )

To say that fey are portrayed with diverse anatomical properties is the understatement of a millennium; as helpfully highlighted by the recently-trending 'fairy alignment chart'. Many fairies aren't portrayed with wings at all– but it's fair to say that, perhaps, the 'typical' fairy which comes to many people's mind does have wings, and those wings are usually insect-like in nature; reminiscent of dragonflies, butterflies & moths*, etc. And while this holds true in some of Honey's verses / iterations, eagle-eyed viewers have likely noticed it's not exactly true of her portrayed full-fey form.

*both belonging to the family lepidoptera. noted for further use of the word 'lepidopteric,' referring to this family of creatures.

At a glance, the silhouette of her wings evokes something more bird-like, feathery in texture— or, indeed, leaning more divine, with the placement and structure evoking classical depictions of seraphim / nephilim. This is not incidental, but it's also not quite accurate either; so here I am to shed a little bit more light on ( and through ) the ethereal fibers on this fairy.

Rather than vaned feathers with barbs, as most birds have, the individual 'plumes' of Honey's wings are a rather elongated version of the lamellar-type scales which give lepidopteric wings their color; covering a thin chitinous** under-structure which gives the wings their basic shape. In the model below, the closest shape / gradient comparison for Honey's lamina*** are the scales modeled in G / G' / G", next to J. attiles— though her color scheme skews more toward pink, purple, and golden hues than true blues.

Where many of these lamella overlap, the wings are mostly opaque, but by-and-large: her wings are translucent, with a slight iridescence to them, both allowing light through and reflecting it back.

**chitin being the keratin-like fiber which makes up the hard outer carapaces of many insect or crustacean bodies, but also the tissue-paper-thin kite of moth & butterfly wings. neat! ***'lamina' referring to: "a thin layer, plate, or scale of sedimentary rock, organic tissue, or other material." in this case: a blanket term for the layer of scales / 'plumes' which cover the wings.

The skin of her fey form generally has a silkier texture like that of a butterfly's wing, as well, and is decorated in patches of scales / chitin, especially around the joints: shoulders + shoulderblades, knees, ankles, neck & spine. Her shoulders and collarbone also flare off along the bone lines with what look like mini wings or otherwise curly tufts; these are more traditionally downy or even 'fluffy,' reminiscent of fuzzy moths ( especially the rosy maple moth ).

Her hips also flare off into what could be called little winglets, and can be manipulated as such. Whether the primary function of this is flair or efficiency? The world(s) may never know.

...And it also bares saying: all of this is approximation. Her wings and their segments are 'more like' this than that, but being an esoteric, unearthly creature, it's probably safe to say they aren't 'identical' to any structures / anatomies we're familiar with, and the tangible properties reflect that. Her wings are by and large soft, flexible, and flowy, but I think that gentleness can become cutting and bladelike in a second, if necessary. [addition 1] A good example of this physical "unrealism" is that Honey's wings are fully articulated— all six of her back wings can be bent and curved, from their bases out to their tips ( to encircle herself or wrap around things in general )— without any actual vertebrae structure which should make this possible.

Pixie / Fairy dust, in Honey's case, is produced primarily in the smaller, denser clusters of lamella which hem her wings near where they meet her back and reach slightly out along their initial length, but is also shed from the larger quills— luminous and infused with the magick which makes the fey what she is, it can act as a powerful reagent by spellcasters, alchemists, or other craftsman alike... and is sometimes actively sought, by some, ( usually at their own peril ).

[andreabaideas]

Lookalikeness IV

Here we go with another lookalike, Its weird, but i can see It!

This time my cousin suggested It, she's obsessed with models and Victoria's Secret, so....

Sofie Grace Rovestine and Sam Claflin, they look like they could be brother and sister, or the male female converter filter.

They have a very similar face bone structure, same hair color and same eye color... They are both very gorgeous and unfairly unreal, like some videogame creations.

Just look at them :

As always...Thank you Pinterest©™®