⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚜, 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜, the sacred-they are all alike in that they are beyond our grasp. once we are even marginally separated from what we can touch, the object is sanctified; it acquires the beauty of the unattainable, the quality of the miraculous. everything, really, has this quality of sacredness, but we can desecrate it at a touch.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ————— YUKIO MISHIMA, 𝑺𝑷𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑺𝑵𝑶𝑾.
⠀⠀a private, selective female-only multi muse. themes explored are mature & not suitable for all audiences. exclusive with @divoutful & @sisyphuse. BY KODA. SHE/HER. 20+. PINTEREST.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀MUSE LIST.
𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐀 𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐃⠀⠀of⠀⠀DOCTOR WHO.⠀⠀⠀(faceclaim: havana rose liu)⠀⠀⠀PRIMARY.
Pale lilacs and greys flutter as a gust of winds shakes through her balcony door; he is always alone, even around others, and his solemnity is a hardship she wishes he didn't have to face. “ What's wrong, Ani? ” Cheeks lose colour as shivers spliner her body which is thinly wrapped in satin, and Padme comes into the light of the moon. “ What is it? ” @saintsknight––
The leaves crunch beneath their feet; eyes set down as she watches where she steps in her new Ferragamos. “ I wonder what she'll say. ” A beat, she looks to see a tinge of perplexity on Veronica's face. “ About me wearing this? (she leans her head, showing off the red ribbon she placed onto her hair this morning as she rushed to hop into the back of Kurt's car.) She's going to scream at me again ... God, I feel like I might throw up. ” @09011989––
Mourning has never been on the cards when Heather Duke thought, and she did think, about the untimely passing of Heather Chandler. It always seemed like such a far off idea, one that would bring serene peace and tranquility into her life, and restore balance unto the sacred halls of Westerberg High — balance meaning that she was at the top of the pyramid. And just like that, things have started to fall into place. Things Heather Duke could only dream of.
Mr and Mrs Duke had overtaken Heather on their entry to the church, but plaid pine green finds its eyes on Veronica and JD, talking outside of the regal building Heather's still warm body sits in. “ I always knew that Heather's death would make this world a better place, I just had no idea it would spark love between the worst Westerberg's got to offer. ” @09011989 @divoutful
if you don’t help me, how can i help you? we’re supposed to be friends. ⠀@satanless for heather duke
dear diary, ⠀i try to be a good friend. i really do. but as of recent, heather duke has ostensibly ruined any shred of goodwill that i had toward her. she only ever seems to talk to me when she needs something from me, and for some reason that totally beguiles me, i always end up giving in. not today, though. i have to stand my ground.
veronica’s distaste for heather duke contorts her entire face, her frown revealing the inner-workings of her internal monologue. playing the friend card. really? she must really want veronica’s help. she can hear the overbearing saccharine in heather duke’s tone, and a wave of nausea crashes over her. she crosses her arms, letting her expression persist. “ i don’t really think we’re friends anymore. ”
she begins searching for a point of exit — something she can pretend to be distracted by, that will definitively end the conversation before heather duke can protest. as her eyes wander, she continues her speech: “ besides, i have no interest in putting up with your pseudo-heather chandler bullshit. so if you need help with something, i recommend looking elsewhere. ”
“ Babe, you're like my best friend ever. I just need your help with something. ” Geez. Who shat in her cereal today? Could she give me a chance to plead my case before screaming at me? I mean, fuck! It's probably the work of that freak she's been hanging out with recently. No, I definitely remember her eyeing him up in school a few days ago. How pathetic. Not even gonna revolt for a hot piece of shit, it had to be for some scrawny fuck like JD.
How do I even deescalate this conversation? I haven't been yelled at since Heather Chandler was around, thank god she's not anymore. Fine, charity case. I guess I'll beg for your help. “ Heather and I wanted to get Ram back for when he spilled beer all over my brand new suede boots the other night. I need you to see if you can get your boy JD to buy us some fireworks from Walmart.” Shit. This sounds insane.
“ He looks like he has a fake ID, is all. ” I know you hate Ram, Veronica. Just give in. “ We figure, if we time it right, we could get Ram to piss himself while we shoot off fireworks right next to him, catch it all on tape. Kurt told me he still wets the bed awhile ago, and Heather was gonna keep him distracted, y'know. It's a perfect plan, I just need you to do this for me. Could even get you a copy of the taaape. ”
Jennifer's body sits on the desk, 𝑏𝑢𝑏𝑏𝑙𝑒𝑔𝑢𝑚 𝑠𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑙𝑐𝘩𝑖𝑛𝑔 in between each of her rotting teeth, lips parting to the sound of each sorrowful sentence the slayer ahead says. Her eyes might reach the back of her head for the thirtieth time and the bell for lunch rang only seven minutes ago. Theorising ways Jennifer can feed without killing humans was only draining her, (not that there's much girl left to drain.) ❛❛ I am not fucking drinking pig's blood, Buff, that's some Carrie shit. Hell. No. This conversation is literally plugging up my pores right now. Like, why would I demote myself to economy when first class has treated me so well? ❜❜
A hand reaches for Buffy's soft hair, mannerisms only calm; a twirl of her finger followed by a sway of the head, it's hard not being thankful, after all, Buffy's found her way about being cool with Jennifer's... condition. But still, the girl will find some way to evade owing anyone a thank you. ❛❛ I totes appreciate you not telling that British guy about it, Buff, but I just, like, don't see the point in changing shit up. You can't exactly fucking exorcise a vag that's been cursed like, double the normal amount. ❜❜. @divoutful– –
AN EXCERPT FROM AN ARTICLE WRITTEN BY A MUSIC JOURNALIST AND DAISY JONES FAN, RECALLING A MEMORY OF HER BRIEF EXPERIENCE MEETING THE STAR AT THE YOUNG AGE OF EIGHT.
"I don't remember a lot about the 70s, but I remember when [Daisy] came up to me outside of a venue one time. It was before Aurora had really gone platinum, long before the world tour. Each of the band members had ran inside but Daisy took a bit more time to stay out and look at everyone, almost like she was trying to remember their faces for future reference. I felt my older sister behind me, I could hear the roars of the fans, but somehow she had caught a peak of my head just barely reaching above the barriers. She ran over and knelt down, then she smiled at me before saying the words "Dream big, little bird, you can be anything you want to be". She smelled of lavender, probably from some hemp mix she had been smoking in the coach. [...] It was singlehandedly one of the most thrilling experiences of my life, and once I turned around I could see my sister crying with excitement."
Chani does not enjoy partaking in political meetings — to stand in rooms full of smoke & mirrors, honeyed tones concealing ominous threats. There is no respect amongst one another; solely a battle between selfish desire. A game, childish. The fremen is more than happy to allow her lover the misfortune of playing it; for his tongue is serpentine, slippery when it needs to be. Hers has never mouthed a lie. Yet she stands now, at the request of 'their muad’dib' , before the icy paleness of a Targaryen; so untouched by a warmth the likes of her Arrakis sun, left instead frigid in the sea-whipped wind. She is sure her disdain is written quite visibly — she does not care. Let her know, let them all know that a Fremen will not play by paltry, makeshift rules.
" You wanted to speak with Paul Atreides. You will speak to me instead, Princess Rhaenyra of Dragonstone." @satanless
ㅤㅤRhaenyra exists in similar stature to the softly bronzed woman ahead. Moments of tiresome, delicate politicking feel often futile for the girl; she has not yet faced the many trials and tribulations of true leadership, and considering the exact political position she deigns to take reign of, it is not nonsensical for her to begin at her age now. And so, upturned nose nods to Chani's not quite aggressive, but yet piercing approach. She should be insulted. And whilst she should be, she simply is not. Chani has so much power and her role as a woman does not shake that fact — a jealousy from Rhaenyra is shrouded in her stone faced expression. ❛❛ Very well. Might I request the name of my constituent? I'm sure the grace of the Fremen extends into the allowance of such? ❜❜ Her small head tilts ever so slightly to the side.
⠀⠀After a long fifty steps up the castle of Dreamland, they had finally reached Tiabean's room. Holding back a loud groan as to not startle the princess behind her, she opened the royal door to present her obnoxiously large abode, one that seemingly hasn't been touched in years due to the sheer lack of time she's spent in it. ❛❛ Come in, make yaself feel at home and... whatever. ❜❜ She smiles, before making her way to the drawers in her room. ❛❛ My father upset at all, that I didn't come down to greet you with him?, a brief pause, before she interrupts herself, realigning her focus to the pack of cigarettes in her hands and quickly shuffles one out. Actually, don't tell me. I don't even care. You want one? ❜❜ @zelyian– –
Zelda lingers on the outskirts of Padme’s dwelling, softly thumbing the worn pages of her journal, almost desperate in the search for a blank page. Link had indeed told her to bring extra, and she quietly curses her stubbornness. Of course there would be indescribable wonders here — and all must be documented for further investigation, to better understand, to immortalize them in her memory. She lets out a disappointed sigh, before finally raising her gaze to her surroundings.
“ Senator Amidala? ” And she nods in respect, offering the gentlest of smiles before traversing inwards. “ Pardon my intrusion, but I do have the silliest ask — would you happen to have any paper to spare? I seem to have preemptively filled the journal I brought with … ” There is an embarrassed giggle, as if her failure to maintain proper record keeping was an affront to Padme herself. “ There is just such beauty here!” @satanless
⠀⠀Warm brown gaze uplifts to see a golden spark of sun ever so timidly stand at the edge of the door, and with a kind nod of the head, she signals for the girl to enter her chambers. ❛❛ Of course, princess, allow me to fetch you some. ❜❜ pale blues rise and scurry to find an empty notebook in one of her drawers. ❛❛ If you ever had any questions, ah! she's found one, affirmed by a smile, I would be happy to answer them. ❜❜
⠀⠀A leisurely yet graceful few steps are taken to meet the girl at the start of her room, where she hands over the empty notebook embellished with silver and blue detailing. ❛❛ I'm sure your home planet is just as beautiful. ❜❜
⠀⠀Soft hand places itself upon Zelda's arm, her cold touch made up for by a smile that feels like the sun. ❛❛ Would you like to see more of Naboo, my lady? You could tell me more about Hyrule as we walk? ❜❜
⠀⠀Comfort was nothing short of her home in Highbury. With servants shrouding each room at every given pace and infliction of the girl, Emma did not have much to think about anything to do with anything. Though that does not limit her, as she garners her opinions and shares them with her friends when she feels most welcomed. Elizabeth's disposition was not at all repulsive, nor did it bring Emma any unpleasantry, which often meant, to Emma at least, that speaking her mind would only sway another to agree with her, and oh how she loves to sway minds to her will. ❛❛ Well of course I can tell you what I think of Mr Darcy. I do not think of him at all. ❜❜ A light chuckle, hues of pale spring yellow giggle ever so slightly with her in a short jitter.
⠀⠀A delicate sip of tea gave the girl all the more greed to go on with her judgments of Darcy, not that they were at all groundbreaking. ❛❛ He is so utterly miserable that it bores me. Not the least bit charming. ❜❜ Posture switches over to face Elizabeth, slyly maintaining her poise as she questions the girl sitting to her left. Any and every possibility that might explain Elizabeth's reason for asking for Emma her thoughts on Darcy had begun racing through her head. Making sure not to drop any tea, she quickly places the cup back on the saucer and goes on.
⠀⠀❛❛ Why exactly do you ask? I understand that I am almost always right about everything, so your questioning me leaves no bother at all, though it did appear out of nowhere, like a hare pouncing up and out of tall grass, she motions a swirl from eye level down to her knee, where she then rests her hands. Do tell me. ❜❜ Eyes widen with the utmost tenacity. @echomyra– –
