Mutuals are only allowed to reply with ONE WORD describing your vibe.

No explanations.

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Pandora Rosier is so coloured tattoos. She's dew clinging to spiderwebs and frost-coated grass, she's old dollhouses and vintage dresses that make her look like a ghost. She's unbrushed hair and bare feet, she's mismatched teacups and painted birdhouses and unwanted dolls labeled as creepy. She's humming under her breath as she brews a deadly potion poured into an ornate crystal cup, she's pebbles on the ground rearranged into something only she understands, she's beautiful poisonous flowers, she's talking to the plants as though they get her, because, in a way, they are the only ones that do. She's abstract paintings nobody thought to glance at for more than a passing moment, she's entering and exiting rooms unnoticed, she's murmuring to the squid that lives in the Black lake like it's her friend. She's broken instruments and white mascara and expired lipstick in shades no one else would wear, she's shattered picture frames and torn photos, she's burnt out candles and leaking jars and bruised fruit and mismatched bedsheets and overgrown, chipped nails painted in every colour she could find and teddies with their stuffing spilling out. She's head tilted back, unseeing eyes open as words that do not belong to her spill from her mouth, telling of death and despair as she struggles to breathe. She's dreams plagued by vivid visions of the tragic demise of everyone she loves. She's clawing at her own skin, furious as the first comes true, as the boy who hated water drowns silently, unwitnessed. She's forcing herself to not care as she hears that her brother, her other half, is gone, not letting herself choke as she sees a photo in the newspaper of a ragged man with an eye that is not his, a blue that matched only her own, rolling in its artificial socket. She's watching her best friend follow her brother into morals that aren't his, knowing she cannot stop the way he would go anywhere to be with the love of his life. She's hearing of how her only friend that didn't cross to the side of murder and curses was taken from the earth. She's realising she is truly alone. She's throwing herself into her experiments, pushing away anyone who tries to warn her of the risks until they stop trying. She's grateful as her body is thrown back, knowing she is finally free of struggles beyond her capability to handle, she's grieving the life she could have had with her beautiful daughter, knowing it would never have been complete anyway, she's guilty for leaving the one man who never abandoned her. She's relieved as she feels that this breath will be her last. She is beautiful and uncanny and different and broken and perfect.

Mutuals are only allowed to reply with ONE WORD describing your vibe.

No explanations.

Reblog and tag more people.

On the rare days when remus wakes up before sirius (they're attuned to getting out of bed at the same time), remus will be making casual conversation with james and peter while leaning against the kitchen counter and sipping his (horrendously sweet) tea.

cut to just 15 minutes later, a disgruntled sirius stepping out of the bedroom, all messy bed hair, half shut eyes and pouty lips as he rubs at one of his eyes while slowly makes his way to the kitchen.

remus immediately perking up as his eyes follow his boyfriend and then softening completely when sirius doesn't say a word, and js cuddles into remus's chest. the two standing there embracing each other for a moment before sirius murmurs a soft "you left me."

and remus chuckling as he reasons that they have places to be while sirius grumbles and rumbles sleepily before, finally, he turns his head up to place his chin on remus's chest. sirius bats his lashes and pouts "come back to bed with me."

remus biting back a smile and telling him they barely have 2 hours to get ready and sirius pouting more because "im only asking for a single hour."

remus going down like a fucking puddle as sirius smirks smugly at him, before promptly grabbing his hand and dragging remus back to bed. james and peter shooting remus "you fucking loser" looks before wolf whistling and telling them to use protection.

remus groans as sirius snickers.

just wolfstar being domestic and losers for each other, thank you :DDD

@darknesswrappedinfallcolors in honor of you because i cant open disc rn ToT </3 @wistarria and u too bestie, some fluff to make up for ze angst :3333