ojovivo
Mike Driver
Claire Keane
Today's Document
Jules of Nature
trying on a metaphor
art blog(derogatory)
blake kathryn
Andulka
almost home
pixel skylines
$LAYYYTER
wallacepolsom
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
cherry valley forever
Peter Solarz
Stranger Things
🪼
roma★
macklin celebrini has autism
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Colombia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Brazil
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
@yoloisms-blog
...I'm in love.
Nathaniel, oh sweet Nathaniel…
-hears him muttering his name and RUNS THE FUCK AWAY-
[yeah he's running after him because he is a babe with a capital b. come on nate, dontcha want some lovin'?]
Oh my looooooove. Why all the fucking masks, god. I must set eyes upon your perfectly sculpted features.
...I'm in love.
Nathaniel, oh sweet Nathaniel...
sam's reply to grayson | gaaaaaay or whatever the thread is called like gay guys getting hit by gay buses or something
Grayson’s eyes nearly popped out of his head when Damien suddenly collapsed on the floor. “DAMIEN! What is it? What’s wrong? Do you need one of my giant cupcakes? Soup says they’re good for upping your gay, like the mushrooms in Super Mario [trademarked by Nintendo]! They’ll make you stronger!”
The smile that had painted itself across his lovely face melted off like the hideous wax people on The House of Wax. “WAIT! Stop! Don’t do anything rash, baby, don’t do it! You’re not thinking clearly! NOOOOOOOOOO!” His hands found his hair and curled into the luscious locks, his face twisting into utter and complete terror. “I LIKED THE VANILLA!” he wailed, lamenting the loss of the scent he had grown accustomed to, save for the long, long time when they weren’t talking. Tears streamed down his face as he watched the Ravenclaw rip off his shirt and destroy Brendon’s adorable little perfume bottle.
He looked up at Damien’s beckoning, taken aback by how Lordly and heavenly he looked in the illumination of the window behind him. He could… deal with the strawberry. Maybe. If he tried really, really hard. It was a really strong scent; it would take a long time to get used to it. But HE WAS A HOT LORD, MERLIN GRAYSON GET ON THAT. And the next second he was flying through the air, leaping into those outstretched lanky arms that belonged to his skeleton of a boyfriend~
Damien gayly looked down at the other gay boy while he held him in his gay arms. "Gay," he whispered gayly and softly, while pressing a thousand small gay kisses to his gay ear.
He was about to carry his future husband over the threshold while murming soft words of ranbowfilled homosexuality when he stopped in his tracks, alarmed. His chest started to burn, his lungs started to tingle, his tongue started to wag like a puppy. It was that feeling. He felt it standing in the shower and felt it when gazing upon the dazzling body of his true love, Grayson, which looked like it had been carved by small gay pixies. And then, he felt it. His mouth opened wide and he closed his eyes and suddenly.... broke into song.
"Look at the stars, look how they shine for you.... and everything you do...
... and it was all homo."
While he continued on singing the song, a chorus of gay baby angels gathered outside the window, giggling and pointing at him using Brokeback Mountain DVDs and pink feather boas. They sang in harmony with Damien, all their voices together singing out loudly and proudly on the word 'homo'. Throughout the song he had to set Grayson down to do a number of dance moves and the gran finale was him whipping off his trousers to reveal himself standing there in hot white underwear, John Barrowman's face planted over his crotch.
"GRAYSON, BABY. STRAWBERRIES ARE RED, I SMELL LIKE THEM TOO, GET PREPARED FOR HOT LOVIN' TONIGHT COS I LOVE YOU."
And in that moment, the angels broke through the windows and began to lift Damien up off the ground until he was hovering, illuminated and surrounded by angels. In that moment, the whole world knew: he was Lord Of The Gay.
sam's reply to grayson | gaaaaaay or whatever the thread is called like gay guys getting hit by gay buses or something
As soon as Grayson uttered the word 'vanilla', Damien froze like a really Ravenclaw ice pop. (Blueberry favour!) Memories of the incident when he was three when he accidentally drank a whole bottle of vanilla essence suddenly came flooding back to him and he dropped to his knees, screaming. "No, Grayson -- baby I can't. I swore I would never be that vanilla drinking person again." In a panic, he jumped up and grabbed Brendon Inglebee's itsy bitsy princess queen rose petal perfume. Deciding that it was the only option, he ripped off his shirt in a panic, screaming "HULKSMAAAAASH'. He yanked off the top of the perfume bottle and poured it over his head screeching "SWEET LORD, SAVE ME FROM THE VANILLA." And as the light shined in through the window it made the droplets of perfume on his chest glisten, as if he were the Lord Jesus himself, come to be a flaming homosexual. He flung his arms wide as the light illuminated him. "Grayson," he said softly, looking gayly into the other boy's eyes as he let a gay smile stratch across his gay face. "Let me be your strawberry prince."
So I had this dream, and you were in it, and there weren't any clothes, and it was the best dream I've ever had.
A dream is just a wish your heart makes. (So how about I be your fairy godnoah and grant all your wishes~?)
oh this time it's so electric, since i've got the feeling i can't shut down | roxanne
You - you out yolo-ed me!
That she did; and perhaps, probably the first time in his life (judging by the tone of his voice) that he had been out yolo-ed. And Roxanne had decided there and then that that was just the first of many. Noah Isle had gone on around the school for the past six years living a life of yoloisms (that is, a lifestyle of I regret nothing, so look how many fucks I give? or in other words, I do whatever the fuck I want attitude) - and one can suppose that it’s worked out for him just fine. He was the King of Yolo, sat on a throne yolo-ing through and through -
Until, that very moment, of course - the very moment (down to the very last millisecond) when Roxanne pushed him into the pool and he was indeed, out yolo-ed. Fair enough, she supposed. And she can do it again.
She was leaning, hands on her knees, as she stood by the edge of pool. Noah swan towards her, his lips formed a smirk and he was leaning in forward and forward as though he was somehow preparing himself for a kiss. So, she allowed it and a very stupid move on her part too as she felt his hand grab onto her arm pulling her into the water to join him.
Well, fuck.
A self satisfied smirk and a wave as he mouthed yolo to her underwater. She gasped for air quickly, still underwater. He caught her completely off guard and she was not about to let it happen again. If this was a game of out yolo-ing each other, Roxanne Weasley had enough sense in her to agree to it. It was just her cup of tea.
Without another second to pass, she swam closer to him, and with her hand on the back of his head she gently pushed him to just inch in a bit closer. And closer. And closer. Until, her lips touched his.
Yolo, after all.
If there was one thing that Noah had not anticipated in Roxanne Weasley, it was a challenge. Without realising, it had become a competition, right from the moment - that split second - when she had pushed him in. But of course, losers always make the first move. And Noah was determined to win. He held his title of King of Yolo effortlessly, but when it came to it he wasn't incapable of quick thinking and smart moves, simply because you only live once. His motto was to do whatever he could in whatever space of time he had and whatever he could certainly included beating Roxanne Weasley in a competition of who could get the better of one another first.
After the wave and the smirk, he felt satisfied with himself. Title reclaimed. And that would teach anybody to believe they could out-yolo him in future.
Except that wasn't the end and his title wasn't reclaimed and he was too busy basking in his glory that he allowed himself to make the same fatal mistake that he had made moments before asking if she wanted a dip in the pool. He, Noah Isle, had completely and totally underestimated Roxanne Weasley.
Before he realised what was happening, her lips were upon his and they found their war of Yolo being converted to a different kind of war; one that involved lips and tongues. He kicked his legs underwater to swim closer to her and couldn't stop from letting out a chuckle, distorted and funny sounding underwater. This girl was maddening and he was completely and totally in awe. In the short space of a few minutes she had managed to completely impress him with her yoloisms. That was something.
He kisses her back, over and over, the water swirling around their hair and dragging them then pushing them together as other students jumped in and splashed about, altering the current.
You only live once. And Noah was very, very pleased that in his lifetime, snogging Roxanne Weasley had become a rather fantastic yoloism.
callmemayers replied to your post: ooc | things i have decided ooc: Manly snogs are the best snogs :’) cheerventures replied to your post: ooc | things i have decided ooc: MANLY POOL PARTY SNOGS I AM LITERALLY CHOKING HELP ME except lbr it's noah. which means manly man/girly man snogs but still MAN SNOGS.
ooc | things i have decided
with the recent influx of sixth year boys i've decided noah needs guys friends. for yoloisms, lulz and manly pool party snogs. headcanon for mates. i want it, bros.
It terms of parties and yoloisms (acts he completed because yolo) and drink and drugs, it was a fucking good party. In terms of pretty girls and lots of snogging and pats on back and laughing with mates, it was a fucking good party. In fact, his mood could be pretty much summed up...
Yolo. Yolo. Never in Noah's life had his skills of yolo been challenged or outdone. He broke the surface of the water with an almighty gasp at the shock of both sudden impact and Roxanne getting the better of him. And after the initial surprise had subsided, he found himself grinning as he pushed his mop of sopping wet hair from his eyes. Laughing, even. That was... brilliant.
"You -- you out yolo-ed me!" he shouted through his laughter, kicking back into the water and splashing around before leaning forward and swimming toward her.
The water and the shock were sobering and they cleared his mind enough that he could form a plan. Unable to lift himself up in the water, he swam near to the side and tilted his head back to meet her gaze. "Quite impressive Roxanne, quite impressive," he mused, the corners of his lips twitching into a smirk. He was tempted to lean in and press his lips to hers. Simply because of the rules, of course. The host had to do better if he wanted to stick to his own rules. But... that could wait. More pressing issues were at hand. Roxanne Weasley had managed to out yolo Noah Isle. And that wouldn't do now, would it?
Making as if he were going to kiss her, he leaned in even closer and half closed his eyes... before snapping them open and grinning like a mischievous schoolboy as he reached up and took ahold of her arm and pulled her into the water with him.
As he yanked her in, he ducked his head down under the water and attempted an underwater wave before mouthing 'YOLO' at her.
oh this time it's so electric, since i've got the feeling i can't shut down | roxanne
It terms of parties and yoloisms (acts he completed because yolo) and drink and drugs, it was a fucking good party. In terms of pretty girls and lots of snogging and pats on back and laughing with mates, it was a fucking good party. In fact, his mood could be pretty much summed up with: fucking good. Gillyweed spliff between his fingers, he sat on the edge of the pool and dipped his legs in the water, surveying the hot, sweaty, lust filled, drunken, glorious mess he had created. He couldn't resist grinning to himself as he leant back on his hands. Nice one, Noah, he thought. In the whole history of Hogwarts, he supposed there had been more than a few wicked and wild bashes thrown, whether in the Room of Requirement or prefect bathrooms or common rooms or Quidditch pitches. And he didn't like to assume that this one was the most chaotic or historical. But that didn't mean he didn't believe it shouldn't have its own chapter in Hogwarts: A History. It was through sheer dumb luck that the teachers hadn't cottoned on already. Although the assistance of Wynters was crucial - had he not covered the outside walls in silencing charms and given him the password in the first place, Noah would have been unable to host such an event. "And such an event it is," he murmured to himself, letting the pounding music drown out his words, swallowed down with a mouthful of firewhiskey. Many of his classmates had congratulated him on his shindig but he had only had a few brief conversations with proper friends before they were dragged away by impatient lips. It didn't bother him - snog all or bust was the rules, after all - and he had already been snogged once in the evening and things were only really heating up. Still, the number of splash fights and underwater handstand competitions was sadly sitting on a big fat zero. Looking around for a possible competitor he stood up and walked a few paces backwards until he bumped into one of his party guests. It wasn't hard, considering all the sixth and seventh years were crammed into one not-entirely-huge room, but he still swiveled round to apologise. Upon seeing who he had crashed into, he beamed. "Roxannie!" came his slightly slurred greeting, complete with a curtsy and a little wave of his hand. It was a ridiculous greeting, but he figured it was better than how half of the guys in the room seemed to be treating the ladies. Before she even had chance to respond, he gestured to the pool. "...fancy a dip, Ms Weasley? Yolo, after all."
ooc | why am i even on della's account i don't owe any tags with her
okay tags i do owe tho:
- rose/landon - rose/carmen - lo/robert - lo/roxanne
………….is that it.
yes???
i'll do these and these starters tonight:
- della/nott DRUNK SNOGGING RSNSWIRNAGRINSIDHAIDJFAD
- noah/rox POOL PARTY FUNTIMES
also somebody should write a lo/somebody (boy or girl) who she can have pool party times witn and probably try to snog at least once l b r starter
[These appeared on the beds of every sixth and seventh year when they returned from dinner. The date is scribbled on the back with lots of exclamation marks, because this is going to be a very !!!!!! event. Prepare yourself for what will be one of the craziest, hormone fueled bashes that Hogwarts has ever seen.]
voting for prefects will be this friday sam and i suck i'm sleepy i'll make a proper mod post in the morn shush u
actual cannibal - noah isle
William threw his books down onto the ground of the Hufflepuff common room. He wasn’t getting any study done, and his head was pounding- he’d had an incessant headache all week. He pulled a hand through his hair, groaning as he squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to quell the pain. Sitting on the ground in from of the fire was the farthest away from everyone else he could get without actually going back to his dorm. He didn’t want to do that, though, because he would inevitably fall asleep, and he had to get this essay written.
With a huff of frustration, he pulled his books towards him, and rose to leave the room. A few people called out to him, asking him where he was going, but he didn’t care. If he answered them, he would be less than the polite-William most people wanted to talk to.
He climbed out of the entrance, fingers trailing over the different barrels as he meandered down the corridor. He could have gone to the kitchens, and it would have been lovely. He could have gotten tea, and talked to Mallory, but he didn’t feel like doing that. He didn’t know what he felt like doing. He was trying to work it out when he turned a corner and ran head first into Noah, landing on his back. He yelped, squinting at the ceiling, trying to clear his vision. “Wh- huh?”
The collision was so sudden that Noah stumbled back a few steps, blinking and flicking his head left and right to identify the hard object that had wanted to high five his face. Walls? No, surely he couldn't overshoot a corner like that. Ceiling? Too high. People? Ah. Person. Ah. Other Hufflepuff person, actually, one he could identify from the curly hair as his dormmate William Piper. After standing around with a dopey grin on his face for a few seconds, he came to his senses and ducked down, offering a hand to the other guy. "William! Mate! Didn't know lying down on the floor was the next big trend? Some new form of planking?" he teased, chuckling and finding the whole scenario amusing despite the purple bruise that he could feel blossoming on his forehead.
As per usual, his clothes were rumpled and in disarray, but today they seemed to be covered in small twigs and bits of soil. He had just managed to survive nearly getting caught smoking and had to use his quick brain and general teacher avoiding skills to improvise a daring escape. Unfortunately his brain wasn't that quick and 'bellyflopping into the undergrowth of the forbidden forest' probably wasn't something that would go down in the student's guide on how to escape detention. (He wasn't sure if that actually existed. But it should. He definitely needed a few tips.)
He carried around a smoky... aquatic smell with him. Those who had tried it would be able to identify the smell of somebody who had just rolled a gillyweed spliff. And if not, he had managed to forget that he had stuck it behind his ear. Still grinning, he tried to pull William up, "Sorry 'bout that. All good? All limbs attatched?"
Ugh, food, food, I need foooooood. Show me the way to food for I cannot think clearly without the fooooood. Because food. Food |:
Mate, want to learn a new fact about Hufflepuffs? All of us, every single one, is born muttering the word 'food' over and over. And it never stops. Our whole entire lives. Ever.
...well shit. Somebody should turn that into a horror novel, for real.
Back to the topic of food though, I'm thinking you and I should have a hot date in the kitchens. Cookies or bust.
