some of my dream dark academia looks
A button-down cuffed to the elbows, loose black tie threaded through the collar. A tweed blazer thrown over the forearm and a well-worn novel tucked into the elbow. Ink-smudged fingers and sleepless eyes.
A rumpled white dress shirt. The top few buttons unbuttoned to reveal a golden locket, burnished by habitual rubbing. Wistful looks out the window.
Clean and put together. A black cotton sweater, the white collar of a shirt folded out over the neck. Pegged pants and oxfords. Hair pulled into a low bun. The sleeves of a smoky gray trench coat conceal the frantically scribbled words that cover the backs of your hands and wrists. Â
Black sweater, sleeves pushed to the elbows. Messy hair twisted into a bun and held up with a pencil used as a makeshift hair stick. Mumbling Shakespeare into a steaming mug of coffee.
A white flower behind the ear. Hours spent poring over a book, lounging on a divan by the window as rain pours outside. A button-up of rosy, ghostly silk and soft gray pants. Bare feet propped up on the arm of the divan.
Hair and face damp with rain, a coat with the collar upturned against the weather. Pulling a dry book from the inside of the coat with a sigh of relief.
A cherished blazer; secondhand, ratty, and patched at the elbows.
A dark swing coat hanging off of the shoulders like a cape. A cotton turtleneck and laced ankle boots. Hair pulled back from the face by a crown of braids, a few strands loose about the face.
A creamy cotton turtleneck that peeks from underneath a black button-down, both tucked into tweed pants. A leather belt and matching dress shoes. A beaten copy of Hamlet clutched in one hand.
An ivory cable knit sweater. Silver rings adorn the fingers, frequently fiddled with by anxious hands. Hair woven into a hasty braid. A camel coat over the shoulders.Â
Lips and fingers stained with cherry juice. A black silk slip. Trading Oscar Wilde quotes in front of the fireplace.
A burgundy cardigan; underneath, white shirt, black tie. Hands hooked in the pockets of black slacks. Walking, solitary, down the dark street.Â
Black button-down, black pants, black oxfords, long black coat. The sky is overcast. Crows circle overhead. You count seven.
Worn, rumpled sweater tucked into a brown plaid skirt. Combat boots. A satchel bulging with books.Â
A faded, cream-colored button-up. Suspenders hooked on black slacks rolled up past the ankles. Bare feet in the grass, and a crown of white wax flowers on the head.Â
