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abiiors · 10 months

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under the mistletoe 🎄// ross macdonald x reader (pt 2 of 2)

twelve days of christmas - day 3

a/n: best friends to lovers? no. it's idiots to lovers. this is also part 2 of secret santa cw: kissing, alcohol, very tame and cheesy. there might be typos... wc: 3k

a cheer cuts through the chatter in the room and ross finds himself standing under a mistletoe, liv first in his arms, then standing on her toes and then they’re kissing—sweet, long kisses that make him smile despite the butterflies in his stomach.

butterflies that should have been a result of the kiss. instead, it feels more like a swarm of bees buzzing in his chest from anticipation.

ross doesn’t expect to be this nervous. more than that, he doesn’t expect to pull away from the kiss before she does. even when liv looks at him with slight concern.

he certainly doesn’t expect himself to be so hung up on secret santa. he has bought plenty of gifts for people he cares about before! good ones too; sure, he’s no pro at gift giving but he’s not entirely hopeless. but this time he simply cannot afford to mess up. not when it took him two turns to get the name he really wanted.

everyone looks festive in some shade of red or green on white—and one silver but charli really pulls it off. liv has a beautiful green velvet dress on, her curly hair piled on top of her head and gold hoops dangling from her ears. liv looks stunning!

it’s her that really takes his breath away—the girl who’s been his best friend for over a decade now. the girl who now stares at him with a tight smile on her face, cheering almost on autopilot with the rest of his friends. she’s in a classic red slip dress and matching red lipstick that contrasts her skin so perfectly that ross almost feels guilty for staring at her longer than necessary. he’s right next to his girlfriend for fucks sake. he needs to focus!

the excitement in the room is off the charts! everyone’s buzzing to get to the main event—the secret santa gifts—and he feels a tiny pit of nervousness at the centre of all his enthusiasm. what if she doesn’t like his gift? what if it’s something she already has or something that’s too personal… too intimate.

liv breaks his little spiral.

“you alright?” she slides onto his lap with an easy smile and pecks him softly.

“yeah, just excited about the gifts! i wonder who got my name.” even with her on his thigh ross can’t stop his knee from bouncing up and down. the weird mixture of anticipation and butterflies is something he’s rarely felt before—not since… well not since her last birthday when he’d gotten her two tickets to the play she’d been dying to go to.

(if he’s being honest it was not since she’d asked him if he’d like to go with her.)

“me too!” liv beams and it’s as if that’s matty’s cue to announce that they can all finally, finally move to the living room.

the living room is adorned with twinkling lights and tinsel, creating a warm and cozy atmosphere. a decently sized pile of gifts sits under the pretty tree—the current object of everyone’s interest. his nervousness aside, ross feels as giddy as the others do, still like a child on christmas morning about to get the long anticipated pokemon card collection.

matty gets to the pile and starts calling out names one after the other.

ross is barely even listening—his mind races with a million different possibilities. what if it’s a shit gift? what if she doesn’t like it or has something similar or doesn’t get the significance of it?

what if she thinks he put no thought into it?

he’s barely even listening when polly coos over the “cutest jumper ever!” or when george cackles over his gag gift or when matty almost goes misty eyed over the vintage book.

he only snaps out of it when matty calls out her name and envelopes her in a hug.

“it’s perfect,” he sniffles and ross burns with envy.

not envious of matty. never envious of matty but… a tiny, irrational part of him wishes she were his secret santa instead. that she spent days thinking about him, obsessing over finding the perfect gift just like he had.

that maybe she spent her nights in bed, wondering a thousand times over if her gift would make him smile (it would, ross thinks. she could get him a £10 bottle of wine and he would still cherish it dearly.)

“ross!” matty calls out and he startles a little.

matty looks at him with a slightly puzzled expression and wiggles a neatly wrapped gift in front of him. it’s square and thin with a small note attached to it.

he recognises it instantly—a handwriting he’s only recently come to know as liv’s.

liv. his girlfriend. his secret santa.

and he’s an awful, awful boyfriend for the feeling of disappointment that rises in him.

his fingers move deftly, tearing apart the wrapping paper until the gift inside becomes visible. the first thing he registers is the word “untitled” printed front and centre in big bold letters. and below it: “divine connection: the last unreleased album”. it dawns on him slowly—the band, their band. the last album from their band. just his and hers. and on autopilot, his gaze snaps up to her.

“ross?”

for the second time that evening liv’s voice cuts through his spiral and he turns around to see her standing at the door to the balcony with a half-drunk champagne flute in her hands. she’s beautiful, he thinks. she’s always been stunning but his heart doesn’t skip a beat when he looks at her.

“can we talk?” she walks in and stands next to him, shoulders brushing with his. it’s a cold night. it’s silly being outside but he’s in a weird mood. he even kinda prefers it here.

“yeah of course,” he clears his throat and tries to appear casual.

“did you like your gift?”

“i did. it was… it was perfect.” at least that much is true. at least that much he can say with 100% certainty. “thank you. really, i mean it.”

“i know you do.”

for a minute she doesn’t say anything but her eyes roam over his face—a scruitinising sort of a look that makes him want to shy away. she’s never been particularly intense but in the few weeks he’s known liv, she’s had a way of guessing his little tells. it takes everything in him to not look away.

still, he closes his eyes for a minute.

the scene is still so fresh in his mind—ross opening the gift and looking up. ross staring at her and not liv. ross murmuring “thank you. it’s perfect.” and smiling at her before he even remembered that the gift was supposed to be from liv.

ross only looks at her, his best friend. and she can’t seem to meet his gaze.

liv clears her throat and brings him back to the present. she takes another swig of her champagne and offers him the glass. ross studies her lipstick smudge on the rim and accepts the drink gratefully.

“you’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

a second sooner and he would have choked on the drink or done a spit-take like a fucking idiot but the question leaves him so speechless that he almost drops the glass.

“who?”

“don’t play dumb now.” her tone’s a bit sharp but her words aren’t unkind and the thought of being scolded like that makes him blush slightly and straighten up.

he’s about to speak when she continues.

“i see how you look at her—how you looked at her when you opened the gift i gave you. you knew it wasn’t from me didn’t you?”

wordlessly, he nods his head.

“you knew i didn’t think of it. you were right though. i didn’t. i went to her because she’s you best friend.”

“and she told you about the band?”

liv clicks her tongue. “she handed me the record. turns out she had you for secret santa before we picked the names again.”

“oh…”

there’s another beat of loaded silence in which he struggles to maintain eye contact with her and not feel like an utterly shit boyfriend.

“liv i—”

“i know,” she smiles briefly. “but you can’t string me along, babe. look i like you a lot. i really do and i know… i know you told me you were trying to move on from someone but i assumed that was a past relationship. i didn’t realise you were talking about…your best friend.”

“i’m sorry,” he shakes his head. “i really am. i know that was shitty of me.”

“it was a little.”

none of them speak for a few minutes. ross looks at her champagne again, wishing he’d had a drink with him for this conversation. or maybe not—maybe a clearer head is what he needs. he is getting dumped, after all.

and yet… there’s no sadness. just a faint sense of disappointment.

“so this is it i guess?”

in one gulp liv finishes the rest of her champagne and nods. “yeah. this is it. for what it’s worth ross… i have no hard feelings.”

this time when she smiles at him, it’s open and sincere. much to his relief, it’s friendly. liv stands on her toes and presses a kiss to his cheek. it’s chaste and quick—a goodbye, one that he returns by hugging her tightly.

liv pauses at the threshold just as she’s leaving.

“why don’t you tell her?”

ross shakes his head in disappointment and feels the familiar ache settle bone deep. the night suddenly seems so much colder than before—no longer the cosy kind that makes you want to snuggle up with a loved one. this feels sharp and biting.

“can’t,” he shrugs, “i don’t want to ruin years’ worth of friendship.”

he expects liv to understand that. it’s a perfectly normal sentiment—to love someone enough that you’d rather have some of them than none of them. but she just shakes her head at him.

“wow…” liv sighs, “for a man so smart… you really are fucking dumb.”

and then she leaves him on the balcony, shivering and confused.

by the time he gets inside, there’s a lull in the party. everyone’s either drunk or loved up or both. well, maybe not everyone.

ross finds her huddled in front of the fireplace, absently staring at her wrist. at the pearl bracelet he got for her.

a near-perfect match to her beloved pearl necklace from her grandmother.

the fire casts a warm, golden glow on her—on her hair and the curve of her shoulder, the hollow of her throat, and down her chest. he stands transfixed at the threshold, waiting for something to happen.

maybe matty (passed out on the sofa) will wake up if he moves or polly might need something from him or george and charli might see them and he loves his friends but they have barely any concept of personal space after all these years. maybe he could just do it tomorrow when he’s not half-drunk, half-sober, and fully freaking out.

“ross?”

too late to hide now.

“why are you stood there? come on! it’s so cold!” she opens up her blanket cocoon—an invitation for him to join.

ross, startled by her voice, stumbles into the room. his cheeks flush with embarrassment and he clears his throat, trying to mask the awkwardness that has suddenly enveloped him.

fuck! she’s pretty. and yes he thinks that every single time he looks at her but it’s moments like these that really hit him like a gut punch.

liv’s words echo in his mind over and over again. for a man so smart… you really are fucking dumb. was she trying to say what he thinks she was? or is he just delusional and projecting his own feelings onto her.

her body is soft and warm when ross settles next to her, pulling her into his side and tucking her head under his chin.

“you were deep in thought.” ross teases a bit, not ready to broach anything serious just yet. what he really wants to ask is about the record—how she’d somehow known his perfect gift before he figured it out himself.

“just thinking about how good i am at gift giving,” she teases back. “matty was ecstatic.”

she's right but he can’t help but find a different meaning in her words.

“that you are,” ross murmurs in her hair, resisting the urge to press a little kiss there. it’s too much for him—this intimacy. something like that might just tip him over the edge.

for a while she doesn’t say anything and ross wonders if she’s fallen asleep. it’s quite late and they’re quite cosy, it won’t be the first time she's fallen asleep on him. maybe, if she is asleep, he might even press that kiss onto her head after all.

“liv’s not here?” her voice breaks his train of thought. it’s not teasing anymore—she sounds neutral and controlled and… and like she’s trying not to pry.

“we broke up.”

“what?!”

she almost shrieks and matty stirs slightly but goes back to sleeping again. ross feels guilty for just dumping it on her without any context.

“i’m so sorry,” she says before he has a chance to speak. “fuck, at a christmas party too! that sucks, love. are you alright?”

“it wasn’t like that. it was…” this is it, he thinks. his one chance to get it right. “i’m perfectly fine. i’m… i’m better than fine. it’s… well she–you… fuck okay!”

he cheeks grow warm. it’s worse now that she’s properly looking at his now, her face a mixture of concern and curiosity; that she’s now an attentive audience to his pathetic flustered words.

“let me…” he takes a big deep breath and squares his shoulders. “okay. let me get this right. for the next, i don’t know, two minutes, you aren’t allowed to speak, okay? okay. so! liv and i talked.” the skepticism on her face grows and ross tries not to let it deter him. “the gift, the record—”

“was it not good?”

“oi! no speaking, remember? two minutes.” ross scolds lightly and almost laughs at her sheepish face. “as i was saying, the record. it wasn’t her idea, was it? i asked her how she knew and she told me you gave it to her. for me! why didn’t you… why didn’t you give it to me yourself?”

for all her talking a moment ago, now she seems speechless. so much so that she can barely meet his eyes.

“it was a lovely gift, darling. maybe even one of the best and… i just want to know why, that’s all.”

her cheeks flush a subtle shade of pink, and she fidgets with the edge of the blanket. “i guess i wanted you to have something meaningful without making things awkward. i’d already bought the gift and i didn't want to complicate our friendship with something that felt so… personal, especially with liv being in the picture. and…fuck! if that’s what made you break up, i’m so sorry, i—"

“it didn’t,” he cuts her off firmly. ross can’t help but notice the small details of her face then—the tiny smudges of mascara from no doubt when she sleepily rubbed her eyes, the glitter on her eyelids reflecting the firelight. her big, beautiful eyes and dilated pupils.

her slightly smudged lipstick…

fuck, it’s the tiny lipstick smudge on the corner of her lips that makes him lose his ability to think straight.

“we broke up because… well there’s someone else,” he speaks in a low volume. subconsciously, she leans forward.

“someone else?”

the room falls into a heavy silence, broken only by the crackling fire. she waits, her eyes searching his face for any sign that he's joking or playing some elaborate prank. but the sincerity in his expression leaves no room for doubt.

“you’re my best friend,” he says, “and fuck, do i resent that! how am i… darling, how am i meant to pretend you’re just my friend when you’re the fucking focal point of my world?”

her breath catches so audibly that it’s almost a gasp. he waits for her to say something. anything. instead she leans in an presses her lips to his.

it’s so unsure at first, almost like she freezes and her brain can’t figure out where to go next. the kiss lingers, soft and tentative—both testing the waters of something uncharted. ross's mind races, trying to process the warmth of her lips against his, the subtle taste of her lipstick.

she pulls away before he’s even had the chance to kiss her back and hides her face in his chest.

“oh god, that was too soon, wasn’t it! that was–you just broke up and i—”

“love, don't hide your face, don't…” his hands gently cup her flushed face, making her look up at him once again even when she can barely meet his eyes and in that moment he realises he’s never seen someone so beautiful.

so this time when ross crashes his lips against hers, he makes sure to pull her closer. to hold onto her tightly. his arms are around her, her hands in his hair and oh she fits so perfectly in the crevices of his body. like a perfect puzzle piece.

by the time they finally pull apart, slightly breathless and grinning uncontrollably, ross hears her giggle.

“wow, that was my first kiss under a mistletoe…”

“we aren’t—”

“i know, but we’re next to one so it’s almost the same.”

he looks to where she’s pointing, to the little bunch tied above the fireplace.

“we could do better, darling.”

“yeah?”

“mm-hmm,” he murmurs, stealing another quick kiss from her. “let me take you home.”

and she agrees in a heartbeat.

lemme know what you think <33

taglist: @scooby-doodoo @partoftheairforce @justgoatsbreakinghearts0855 @beachesgetpeaches @you-muppet @mcabister @alexmarie29 @at-her-very-foreign @hfkait @squishysoupy @sierraeslaprincesa @harrie-fic-center @alien-girl-violet @thereisaplaceintheheart @kennedy-brooke @lolidontknowanymore @theoriginalwhatsername @celestcies @sugarkane1001 @ari-turner @thewaywewereinsaigon @daphnesutton @beliefandsayingsomething @ros3chu @nothingrevealedeverythingdenied @zzzhealy @mattymybeloved @fck-off @indiaamars @sofaritsalrightt @k4tie75 @wondersecret @humptyhoran @indierockgirrl @hanbiior @moreyoulove-moreyouknow @rossgirly @if-my-heart-bleeds @little-lovely-darling @abriefnirvana @renitypoem

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#christmas75 #12 days of christmas #the 1975 #ross macdonald #ross macdonald x reader #ross macdonald x you #ross x reader #ross x you #ross macdonald angst #the 1975 angst #minor angst #matty healy #george daniel #adam hann #angst to fluff???#in all honesty i kinda hate this because writer's block is a bitch but i can complain here because no one is going to see these tags #yeah. genuinely not very happy with this but also not in the position to rewrite it so we move

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sintowinemily · 2 years

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17 Minutes - Spencer Reid

pairing: Spencer Reid x unnamed female!oc (can be reader if you so wish)

summary: Every Monday morning, Spencer is exactly seventeen minutes late to work. The team have no idea what is holding up the young genius.

warnings: third person, pining, one-sided pining, unknowing party, obsessive Spencer, (kind of) stalking (??), unhappy ending.

word count: 1145

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Spencer Reid is late to work every Monday, and has been for months. If he wasn’t so integral to the team, SSA Aaron Hotchner would have him disciplined by now, but knowing what he knows at twenty-four, there is no way Hotch would risk him being on disciplinary leave.

Hotch doesn’t know why Spencer is late on the same day every week, neither does Derek or Elle, not even Jason Gideon knows why Spencer fumbles his way into the round-table room 17 minutes late every Monday clutching at a take-away cup of coffee, red in the face and satchel hanging around his elbow. Spencer would never tell them what could be so important. Gideon worries it’s his mother, Derek teases him that some girl is keeping him up late on a Sunday night – so unprofessional.

What they don’t know is that it is a girl. But she isn’t keeping him up late on a Sunday night, she isn’t begging him not to leave their bed on a Monday morning. Although Spencer wishes, so desperately, more than anything��that she did.

Every Monday, on his way to the Metro stop, Spencer stops at his favourite coffee shop. It’s a quaint independent little place, with long leather couches and oak bookshelves mounted on the walls. It’s dark and the walls are painted olive green, it has old espresso machines that whine loudly and exposed lightbulbs hanging low from the ceiling. Spencer goes in every morning and orders a flat white and empties half of their glass sugar dispenser into it. But every Monday, he orders a large latte and takes a seat on one of the large couches, and watches. All he does is watch.

She has long dark hair, which falls down her lower back. Spencer observes that she has to pull it to the side to stop her from sitting on it. Her short nose, which curves up at the end scrunches whenever she turns a page of her book. She’s there every Monday, and every week she has a new book perched on her right knee, which is crossed over her left one. Every week she is wearing some variation of the same outfit, a long skirt and a knitted jumper which is too long in the sleeves. Her hair is occasionally tied back in a black ribbon, but Spencer prefers it when she lets it hang loose, free.

The first week she approached the old 1970s vintage jukebox, which looks like it is an original but is loaded up with modern records as well. She chose Bella Donna by Stevie Nicks. This is what sparked Spencer’s interest, he would have expected someone of her [their] age to have chosen something more modern but as he watched her go to sit down and properly observed her floor-length dress (which surely had to be altered as she didn’t look over five foot four inches), he realised she was different. He continued watching as he stood at the counter and waited for his coffee, to-go. What he observed next made his heart skip a beat.

She pulled out a battered copy of Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment.

Instead of leaving with his take-away cup, he sat at the couch on the opposite side of the room and watched her. He was 17 minutes late to work.

And so began the unprofessional habit he entered into, every Monday he was 17 minutes late to work because he was watching the beautiful girl read some piece of classical literature. Sometimes English, sometimes American, sometimes Russian, sometimes German. One week it was All Quiet on the Western Front. Another week it was Philip Roth’s alternative history. The next it was Kafka’s The Trial. Then for three consecutive weeks after that it was a different Ray Bradbury book every Monday. And so on, and so forth. (Of course, Spencer had already read all of these.)

Spencer wasn’t sure if she read one a week, or one a day. But he became as obsessed with finding out what the stranger was reading as to what she was wearing, or whether she had ordered an americano or an oolong tea. He would watch as she held the book in her right hand, her left hand balled into a fist, nestled into her hair, which she rested her head on as she read. She licked her lips every four minutes and twenty-seven seconds; she would crane her neck from side to side every six minutes and twelve seconds. Spencer had become so enamoured with this girl, this girl who was devouring all his favourite novels. He knew on the seventh week of watching her that he might well be in love with her, despite not even knowing her name.

If Spencer was a different man, he would have approached her, he would have asked her thoughts on the tension between Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet, he would have asked her if she had read any of his favourite obscure Russian novels. But he wasn’t that man, he was too reserved, too nervous.

On the eleventh week Spencer walked into the coffee shop with his head held high. This would be the day he would be the man he wanted to be. He would at least introduce himself to her.

It was a shock to him when she wasn’t sat at her usual spot, but instead was the only person in the queue in front of him, waiting to be served. (She ordered an oolong tea.) She stood to the side and gave him a small, nervous smile as he made his way to the counter to place his own order. He was too in his own head to even return the smile. He ordered his latte and stood behind her again to wait for his order. She was staring into space in front of them, tapping her foot on the ground. A to-go cup was placed on the counter to collect, and she stepped forward to collect it, Spencer is watching her in a fashion which he knows is creepy but as she is facing away from him, he knows she won’t notice.

But as you can imagine, to Spencer’s surprise she spins around quickly and looks direct at him.

‘Sorry, I think this is yours.’ She says, the to-go cup in her outstretched hand, her left hand.

That’s when Spencer realises, he had never studied her left hand before. If he had he would have noticed the ring. The large diamond ring on the fourth finger of her left hand. He gives her his thanks and hurries out of the coffee shop and makes his way straight to the metro stop. He should have known that the girl destined to be his soulmate, destined to be the love of his life, would already be taken.

And, Spencer Reid was never late to work again.

#Spencer reid #Spencer reid one shot #Spencer reid blurb #Spencer reid ff #spencer reid fanfic #Spencer reid x oc #Spencer reid x y/n #Spencer reid x you #Spencer reid fluff #Spencer reid angst #Spencer x reader #Spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic

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lolita-wardrobe · 1 year

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【-Love is Approaching-】 Lolita JSK in Light Green Color New Worn Photos

◆ Dress's Shopping Link >>> https://lolitawardrobe.com/love-is-approaching-vintage-classic-lolita-jumper-dress_p7798.html

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mysticstarlightduck · 17 days

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Extra 2.0 OC Favorites!

Let's go with Erin Niemand and Indigo "Indie" Lauriel, from What Lurks In The Hollow!

Erin Niemand

Color: Forest Green

Season: Winter

Shoe Choice: Knee-high suede boots

Weapon: Box cutter

Food: Potato and sausage chowder

Drink: Blackberry juice

Style: Dark grey band T-shirts, green flannel long-sleeved shirts (button up), black denim pants

Mode of Transportation: Walking

Animal: Dogs, especially pit bulls (she has one named Cooper)

Pastime: Walking around on the wood trails around Vinethorn Grove and hiking

Breakfast: Sugar-coated cinnamon rolls with latte

Personality: Loner, very introverted.

Songs:

Mockingbird - Enisa

Forgotten - Avril Lavigne

Who's Afraid Of Little Old Me - Taylor Swift

Leave Me Alone - Adam Jensen

City Grown Willow - Jensen Ackles

Indigo "Indie" Lauriel

Color: Mustard Yellow

Seasons: All of Them!!!!

Shoe Choice: Boho leather slippers/sandals with stripped knee high socks, especially in earthy tones

Weapon: Custom taser that she DIY-customized with dollar store rhinestones and glitter

Food: Her Ma's Lasagna

Drink: Detox Smoothies

Style: Hipster chic styles, usually in fall tones, with her signature denim jumper, which she also customized with cloth patches and always a cardigan

Mode of Transportation: Vintage Scooter

Animal: PIGEONS AND SPARROWS

Hobby: Watching conspiracy theory Youtube, reading about niche topics and doing her own conspiracy theory research, especially about UFOs, ghosts/hauntings and cryptids.

Breakfast: Chocolate Cereal with Milk

Personality: Layback Extrovert

Songs:

Little Talks - Of Monsters & Men

Seven Devils - Florence & The Machine

Riptide -Vance Joy

Ho Hey - The Lumineer

X Games - Au/Ra

Tagging (gently): @sleepy-night-child, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @smol-feralgremlin, @wyked-ao3, @topazadine @littleladymab,

@winterandwords, @eccaiia, @sarahlizziewrites, @illarian-rambling

@agirlandherquill, @anoelleart, @ray-writes-n-shit

@writernopal, @anyablackwood, @unstablewifiaccess, @forthesanityofstorytellers

@i-can-even-burn-salad, @cakeinthevoid @thecomfywriter

@thepeculiarbird, @clairelsonao3, @memento-morri-writes, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams @amaiguri

@cherrychiplip @thecomfywriter @thelovelymachinery

@differentnighttale, @leahnardo-da-veggie

#wip what lurks in the hollow #oc: erin niemand #oc: indigo “indie” lauriel #writeblr #writing #writers on tumblr #my characters #character writing #my writing #writerblr #my wips #writers

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rockystuff · 1 year

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DARK ACADEMIA FUNDAMENTALS

Ok, so this is my first posts and I just wanted to make a short little guide to the fundamentals of one of the most popular aesthetics out there!

VISUALS

Colors: - Black - Dark brown - Forest green - Dark orange - Beige - Cream - Gold Dark & muted colors in general

Architecture: - Gothic (especially Collagiate Gothic) - Neoclassical - Victorian Note: These styles of architecture are mostly found in Europe.

The whole boarding school, academic, college-like imagery & lifestyle is very important to the sake of the aesthetic.

CLOTHING

Outwear: - Blazers - Cardigans - Trench Coats

Tops: - Button-up shirts - Blouses - Turtlenecks - Jumpers - Sweaters - Vests

Bottoms: - Formal dress pants - Tweed pants - Pleated skirts - Linen Shorts

Shoes: - Doctor Martens - Loafers - Mary Janes - Oxfords Leather, formal shoes in general.

Dresses: - Pinafores - Sleeveless

Accessories: - Knee socks - Briefcases - Tote bags - Watches - Leather belts - Metallic glasses

The check pattern is frequently used in the dark academia fashion. The makeup associated with Dark Academia should be either minimal and natural or mysterious.

ACTIVITIES

Reading & annotating

Studying, especially solitary studying

Keeping a diary

Going to art & history museums

Writing poems/essays/etc.

Dinner parties

Picnics

Acting in theater

Going to libraries

Playing Chess/Checkers/Vintage Card Games

Sketching

Embroidery

Calligraphy

Horse-riding

Squash

Playing a classical instrument (example: the violin)

Photography

Debating

Archery

Badminton

This obviously isn't everything there is to know about Dark Academia, I tried my best to keep this short, hopefully I was successful. I wanted to say that a lot of things an European scholar from the 19th/20th century would've done/wore/liked can be considered Dark Academia. Thanks for reading!

Resources: https://aesthetics.fandom.com/wiki/Dark_Academia#History https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dark_academia https://admindagency.com/blog/dark-academia-aesthetic/

#aesthetic #art #dark academia #dark acadamia aesthetic #list #colour #colors #brown #beige aesthetic #dark academia activities #guide #aestethic moodboard #aestethic #dreamy #dark aesthetic

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itsjustfire4 · 2 years

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I saw this headcanon that whenever someone was looking especially attractive James became extremely clumsy. I’m living off of this and I have so many scenarios now. I shall share them with you.

- Sirius put his hair in a messy half bun with strands falling out in his face. He had his school shirt unbuttoned to where it showed his lower chest. He was sitting in the common room scribbling on his parchment in front of the fire, and he looked stunning in the light. It hit his features in the most beautiful way and James ran into a wall.

- Regulus had just woken up and was wearing a baggy shirt that fell off his shoulder and shorts that were hidden under the shirt. his hair was messy and it fell in his eyes. James was cooking when Reg walked into the kitchen. He was rubbing his tired eyes and looked just absolutely adorable and innocent. James was completely caught off guard by reg and was flipping an omelette or something and accidentally dropped the pan. He went to scrabble after it then accidentally put his hand on the burning stove.

- James went to pick Remus up from this old bookstore and he walked in and Remus was sitting on a couch in the back. the sun was hitting him perfectly turning his amber eyes to honey and his curly hair into a coffee color. His hair was falling into his eyes beautifully and he was wearing this brown sweater that made his silver scars more apparent. Remus was just peacefully reading a book with his fake-silver jewelry (bc real silver is harmful to werewolves). James was seeing his profile and could see his long lashes and everything. He ran into a bookshelf and stubbed his toe on a table nearby.

- James and Peter were hanging out by the lake and James decided to climb a tree. Pete leaned on the tree with his arms resting crossed on a branch and he had his chin on his forearms and the sun was peaking through some of the leaves lighting up his bright blue eyes and the natural highlights in his blond hair. James looked down and him and Peter was smiling at him softly and his freckles were visible littered across his face and James fell out of the tree. I feel like that gave Peter a little boast of confidence bc I think he was secretly insecure about his body.

- Lily walked up to the marauders, to talk to Remus, and she had green crystals tied in her hair. she was wearing one of Remus’s emerald green jumpers that brought out her eyes and gold jewelry. She had this long white vintage skirt and she was smiling wide, you could see little dimples and crinkles under her eyes. her freckles were glowing, she looked so so gorgeous and James tripped over his feet and fell on his face.

- Marlene was practicing quidditch and she had stopped in the air and was searching for the snitch. She had her hair in a messy ponytail and black eyeliner smudged under her grey eyes. Her hair blowing in the wind and red and gold quidditch robes that had the sleeves rolled above her elbow. Black jewelry just looking beautiful in the air and James fell off his broom.

- Mary was going on a date and she was wearing a dark red dress with gold butterfly’s dancing around the bottom of it. Red lipstick and eyeliner that matched her dress perfectly that looked just stunning on her dark skin. She had flowers placed perfectly in her dark curly hair that made her look ethereal. Her long eyelashes sweeping against her cheeks when she blinked and she asked James is she looked okay. James dropped the book he holding on his face.

- James was going to get Dorcas to sneak her into the gryffindor tower for a party. She had gold beads braided into her waist length hair and she was wearing a white blouse under a black dress with docs. Gold glitter scattered across her eyelids and a painted gold moon on her forehead. She had gold rings and earrings and holy shit is that a wall?

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anxiety-lemsbian · 1 year

Text

name: aster

age: minor

pronouns: she/her/they/them

sexuality: gay but in a sapphic way

gender: idfk man

likes: cats, phoebe bridgers, finland, vintage teacups, watercolours, music, bracelets, queer people, radio silence, taylor swift, rain, cardigans, knitted vests, embroidery, green, lorde, dangerfield, drawing, quirky stuff, ducks, stars, girls, tumblr, tacos, art, ballgowns, long skirts, oversized shirts/jumpers, sweetpeas, rainbows, alice oseman, daisies, mochi, lily of the valley, eliza and the delusionals, pale sunlight, typewriters, rotary phones, earrings, lavender, floral scented soaps/conditioners, peppermint lip balm, blue eyes, love, velvet, apple pie, gilmore girls, people using my correct pronouns, heartstopper, little women, reading, nice pink watermelon, british accents, a flower fairies treasury, sarcasm, sunflowers, lemon iced tea, frances janvier, spanish, macarons, bubble tea

dislikes: math, global warming, migraines, the sun, tight clothes, pimples, homophobia, spiders, racism, transphobia, shitty people, terfs, aphobia, tiktok, wasps, watermelon when it’s too red and floury, my father, school, most people, being bad at Spanish, being alone, depression, anxiety, people being ignorant, drunk people, smokers, vomit, rejection, being delusional

favourite book: radio silence

favourite movie: little women

favourite tv show: gilmore girls

favourite food: pincahas y tostones and chips and chocolate mud cake

favourite drink: lemon iced tea or jugo de parcha

favourite movie series: to all the boys i loved before

favourite lolly: sour cola bottles

favourite kind of chocolate: caramello

favourite song right now: timeless by taylor swift

favourite musician: phoebe bridgers

favourite artist: @eunnieboo bc of pink in the night or alice oseman

tagging: @lukiverse @tesseract-s @tiredandcaffeinated @trashmeowcan @chanda-chamke-cham-cham @whenjasfallsinlove @when-emma-falls-in-love13 @stranglingfigs @urlocalsadkid-l @im-dead-still @ticcywhaleshark @ultimatedisastergay @fernfinity @dumbassbella @ferretbutlonger and literally anyone else

pls do it I’d love to get to know you better <3

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fifilaflour · 27 days

Text

SWEET FLO

from wattpad / stu macher x florence aberdeen

PROLOGUE

Florence Aberdeen was undoubtedly one of the sweetest and most passionate people Woodsboro had ever seen. Her parents were the perfect downtown couple who managed to raise two beautiful sisters and lived in a old vintage house just a few blocks from their school.

Florence and her little Amy were like twins, always sticking together even though their age difference was almost up to three years. They shared similar interests such as movies and music. While Florence went to theater class every Friday after school end, Amy had guitar and piano lessons, so they could walk home together afterwards.

They were rarely ever seen alone, and if they were, you could be sure the other one wasn't all too far away.

So it was hard to catch Florence alone. Only on Friday afternoon. Because then Amy was sitting exactly three rooms away and couldn't get in the way.

Not that Stu Macher didn't like Amy Aberdeen. She was nice, and he sometimes helped her with her math homeworks - but only when he was having a good day, because normally he couldn't give a fuck about maths. But how could he say no when she looked at him with those annoying teddy bear eyes.

One of the few things that set her apart from her older sister. While Amy had those big round brown eyes with just a hint of green in them, Florence's eyes were such a striking green that Stu felt she could kill him with just one look. Luckily, that girl couldn't hurt a fly.

Back to the reason why Stu had decided to join the group of movie nerds - even though he hated everything in assisination with school after the official last lesson. He began to question himself as he stood in the large hall, which used to be the gym, but was now being used for shooting a short movie. Students ran past him with big-ass cameras in their arms and some microphones attached to long sticks. The wooden floor was covered with cables and in the middle of the room was a circle of chairs with some names funny scribbled on the backs.

Stu scoffed as he read 'Randy', the chair standing extra close to the one that said 'Florence' with a little heart surrounding it. Stu smiled at that and let his eyes wander over the people, looking for her wild blonde hair or her booming voice that always seemed to drown out everyone else.

Finally he spotted her, surrounded by a group of first year girls. The big, giddy smile on her lips made him smile too, and he immediately remembered why he was here.

Taking his hands out of his trousers, he slowly made his way through the crowd, wiping the sweat from his hands into the back of his brown jumper and almost rolled his eyes. Stu Macher was nervous about a girl he had known for half his life. Billy would laugh straight in his face if he was there.

"Hi sweet Flo!" Florence couldn't believe her ears and eyes when she heard the brown-haired boy calling her name and saw him jogging towards her. The girls around her scrambled away to get their costumes ready as Stu stopped in front of her and smiled goofily at the surprised look on her face.

"Saw a ghost, huh?" he laughed, knowingly referring to the short film they wanted to finish before Halloween. Randy and his so-called "plot team" had the story all planned out, they just had to start filming.

Florence laughed at his comment, surprised that he even knew what they were doing here. "I didn't think I'd ever see you here!" she said, pursing her lips to hide her smile. Stu made a hurt face and held a hand over his heart. "Ouch that hurt, you know I'm actually really into - movies and," he stopped, gesturing helplessly around him, which made Florence laugh. "Um cameras and stuff."

"Mhm sure," Florence murmured with an encouraging nod, unknowingly making Stu's heart leap. The girl snapped the hairband around her wrist, as she always did when she had nothing else to do with her hands and was at a loss for words.

So she pointed to a tall guy with hair almost down to his ass, balancing a big camera on his shoulders, and gently nudged Stu's side as she said, "If you want to help, Danny might need a hand with the camera set up".

The Macher Boy hid his disappointment as he gave a thumbs up and smiled broadly. "Sure," he said, making Florence laugh as he turned and jogged in Danny's direction. Florence couldn't make out what they said, but from the look on Dannys face she knew she was right about him needing help. She watched them for a few seconds as they set up the camera in a corner of the room and positioned the lightsticks.

"What's he doing here?" a voice suddenly said beside her and Florence almost jumped out of her skin. With a loud groan she slapped Randy across the chest. "You asshole almost gave me a heart attack," she sneered. Randy gave her a playful eye roll but continued to look at Stu.

"I don't know, I guess he just wants something to keep him busy," Florence shrugged in response to Randy's seemingly rude question. Obviously she was just as surprised. She had never thought of Stu as a guy who wasted his free time after school on a group project full of nerds. But she couldn't blame him. Everyone needed a little distraction these days.

Maureen Prescott's murder was only a week old and had shocked everyone. Especially her daughter Sydney Prescott and her group of friends. Florence wouldn't say she was as close to Sid as she was to Randy or Stu. But they were friends and Flo grieved with her. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to lose her own mother. Or Amy. She would straight up die.

"He's been acting weird since last week," Randy whispered, pulling Florence out of her thoughts and replacing her sad look with a confused one. "What do you mean?" she asked, looking from Stu to him and back to Stu again.

Randy shook his head in thought, as if he didn't really know himself. Slowly he looked at Florence, his eyebrows knitted together like the mysterious guys in every movie did. Florence narrowed her eyes and nudged him, hiding her smile. "What are you saying?" she repeated, expecting him to come up with another one of his stupid theorys.

"I don't know, he seems happier than he should be," Randy said, shaking his finger at Florence. "Especially around you. I don't like it."

Florence burst out laughing, caught Randy's finger and pulled it down. "Sorry, Dad," she grinned to hide her own smugness at his words. Stu was happy around her? Sure, they had been friends since kindergarten, but it had never been more than that.

"Isn't he happy with Casey?" she said quickly, trying to calm Randy's suspicions. "Of course he's happy with a new girlfriend..." Randy cut her off with a few clicks of his tongue and tapped her head gently as if to check if there was something in there. "Oh please, Casey's had a crush on Steve ever since the last football game where he took his shirt off," he explained, chuckling as Florence slapped his hands away.

"That doesn't prove anything, Randy," Florence scoffed, crossing her arms. Randy raised his eyebrows at her and mimicked her arms. "Sure tell yourself that Miss Aberdeen," he said in a higher voice at the end. "I think he's suspicious," he narrowed his eyes at Stu, who was now helping to set up the background for their first shots.

"Trust me Flobo. I'm always right."