he/they/she | transmasc genderfluid | aromantic asexual | šŸ³ļøā€šŸŒˆšŸ‘½šŸ’€šŸŒŒ

1687 posts

It's Ok Ody Loves Ctimene A Lot And He Held Her At Least 30 More Minutes After That.

It's Ok Ody Loves Ctimene A Lot And He Held Her At Least 30 More Minutes After That.

It's ok Ody loves Ctimene a lot and he held her at least 30 more minutes after that.

And the idea came from posts from @that-greek-mythology-girl and @nikoisme, in love with their Ctimene hc's/art so credit to them šŸ„¹

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More Posts from Ladystardust-ina-moonagedaydream

no one:

Cardan introducing Oak: thatā€™s my nephew, whoā€™s also my foster brother in law,and at the same time heā€™s my late best friendā€™s half brother but heā€™s also my successor and my bestie


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falling to the music pt. 2 (jily)

a/n: part 2 to my band au jily noodles arrives! featuring coffee, more of mary and a slight misunderstandingā€¦

Lily goes four whole days with no new messages. Okay, fine, her friends text her, and she gets some emails from university about upcoming assignments, and her Waterstones app cheerily supplies to her the hottest novels of the month in a push notification, but she doesnā€™t get a text from James, which means none of that counts. And Lily is not bothered about this in the slightest. Sheā€™s fine about it, dandy even. Her friends have not complained about the new habit sheā€™s developed of checking her iMessages every spare moment she has. Only, maybe they have. Once. Or twice. Or thrice. Itā€™s just she thought it had gone so well. She had flirted, hadnā€™t she? And he had been interested, or so sheā€™d thought. Heā€™d gone to get her a pen, for fuckā€™s sake. Sheā€™d written her number on his skin. Sheā€™d basically temporary tattooed him, it was a Sharpie and everything. But she hears not a peep from him, so apparently heā€™s just a typical guy-in-an-indie-rock-band who flirts with girls and never follows up. Which is fine, honestly - thatā€™s his prerogative. All it means now is sheā€™s got to learn to quell the incessant and unrelenting desire to see him again. Easier said than done, though.

Itā€™s a Saturday when she decides to ring Mary up and meet her for a coffee. This is what I need, she thinks. I just need to let it all out in one sitting and then move the fuck on. I only bloody met him once. So she dresses up. She picks out that nice skirt she got in a charity shop in York and her pair of sixties style boots and douses herself in perfume, and goes marching out to enjoy a good old rant and a latte. Sheā€™s determined to have a nice morning, and to have everything go her way for once. And she almost gets that. Almost.

The coffee shop, to its credit, is exactly as she wanted it to be. An independent joint on a pretty street corner, itā€™s perfect for people watching, and decorated quite pleasantly with all sorts of vintage knickknacks. She likes it. Itā€™s unknown enough that it doesnā€™t get too busy, and not so awfully pretentious that it doesnā€™t have any proper seating. Seriously, why does no one seem to want to let you sit down anymore? Settling herself comfortably in a gorgeous green armchair by the window, Lily sets her phone face down firmly on the table. She vows silently and fervently to herself that she will not check it until she has left the building. Then, she pulls out her novel, Emma - which is in every aspect the perfect comfort book - and contents herself to caring solely about whatā€™s going on in Highbury. So far, so good.

Mary turns up about ten or so minutes late, despite her optimistic suggestion over the phone earlier that this time it might only be five. This is not an issue though because Lily knows her best friend like the back of her hand, and thus knows better than to believe that she might arrive on time. Things are still as they ought to be.

ā€˜Right then, Lils,ā€™ Mary says after having brought over their drinks. ā€˜I have it on good authority that weā€™re pissed off today, is that correct?ā€™

ā€˜However did you guess?ā€™ Lily deadpans.

ā€˜Oh, I think the scowling at your mobile whilst I was in the queue may have tipped me off. Itā€™s about that guitarist of yours, isnā€™t it?ā€™

ā€˜Obviously, yeah. Him, and the fact that men are the root of all evil.ā€™ At this, Mary throws her hands up as if in worship, closing her eyes and humming appreciatively.

ā€˜Too damn right, babe. Although I will say, dating girls can still be tricky.ā€™

ā€˜Yeah, but I reckon Iā€™d probably feel like less of a fool if I was this hung up on a pretty girl. Instead Iā€™m here whining about not getting the attention of a good-for-nothing, piece of shit, stupid fucking man. Christ.ā€™ She reaches forward to take a sip of her coffee, looking somewhat defeated.

ā€˜He still hasnā€™t texted you I take it?ā€™

ā€˜Not once. I donā€™t know what I did wrong, Mary. I thought he liked me. You saw him, you saw how Sirius introduced me. Didnā€™t he like me?ā€™

ā€˜I mean yeah, it looked like it. Iā€™m sure you didnā€™t do anything wrong, so donā€™t go blaming yourself for it. Guys fall at their feet for you. Maybe he does want to text you, but canā€™t. Maybe there was an emergency so heā€™s been too busy to think about dating, or maybe heā€™s a flustered coward who canā€™t work up the courage to ask you out, or maybe heā€™s driven off to the Irish countryside on a lads trip to fuck about with his mates and didnā€™t realise he wouldnā€™t have any service. Or maybe itā€™s none of those things, and he isnā€™t interested at all. Whatever it is, you canā€™t start losing all your marbles ā€˜cause youā€™re waiting for a text.ā€™ Mary puts both her hands down on the table palms up, and waits for Lily to take them. When their hands are slotted properly together, she gives a gentle squeeze and continues.

ā€˜You, Lils, are a wonderful woman. And you have a wonderful womanā€™s life full of all sorts of wonderful things. Donā€™t waste it fretting over some bloke in a band.ā€™ Lily takes a deep breath.

ā€˜Youā€™re right,ā€™ she sighs. ā€˜You always are.ā€™

ā€˜I know,ā€™ Mary answers with a smile.

ā€˜Thanks. For putting up with all this, I mean. I promise Iā€™ll be back to my usual self now. Nice, normal, non-boy-obsessed Lily.ā€™

The phone that had been set face down on the table about twenty minutes ago chooses this moment as the perfect opportunity to buzz. The vibration sends it inching closer to the boundary between the safe, charted territory of antique mahogany wood, and the sheer drop down to the floor as if it, too, aches for the sweet release of death. Fuck me.

ā€˜Fancy checking that?ā€™ Mary asks sweetly.

ā€˜Nope. No. No can do. Not going to check it.ā€™

ā€˜You can if you want to. Weā€™ve all been there, I wonā€™t judge.ā€™

ā€˜I have more resolve than that. I just said Iā€™m back to normal. I donā€™t care if itā€™s him or not, Iā€™m not going to look.ā€™ Mary just stares at her. Itā€™s not in any way critical, nor condemnatory. If anything, it just looks like sheā€™s waiting it out. Lily counts about ten seconds of pained eye contact before-

ā€˜Iā€™m so sorry, I have to look.ā€™ She snatches her phone from where itā€™s ended up suicidally near the edge of the table, taps it to light it up and of fucking course. There it is.

iMessages: Unknown Number

hii :) itā€™s james. is this lily?

ā€˜Is it him?ā€™ Mary has one eyebrow raised.

ā€˜Fucking- yeah, itā€™s him.ā€™

Lily wants so desperately to ignore the message. Here is a man whoā€™s made her feel so incredibly pathetic, so incredibly angry, and heā€™s just waltzed on into her notifications without a care in the world. She shouldnā€™t dignify him with a response. And yet.

Lily: Lily Evans speaking.

James: oh, yay! okay perfect. well, hopefully you know who i am then. iā€™m the guitarist from the gig, like four days ago? you wrote your number on my arm.

Lily: Mhmm.

James: listen, iā€™m really sorry i didnā€™t get in contact sooner

James: you remember how when we were chatting that night i told you i was a dunce?

Lily: I do recall.

James: that is the truest thing i have ever said in my whole life. i am a dunce. i am stupid to the point of being unsalvageable. i am, you might say, a total buffoon.

Lily: And all this to say, what?

James: i dropped my phone :((

Lily: Thatā€™s why you havenā€™t texted me for four days? You dropped your sodding phone?

James: down an entire flight of stairs!

James: completely killed it

James: basically shot it dead and then broke both its legs for good measure

Lily: Right.

James: so then i was going to text you on siriusā€™ phone, but sirius is awful for pranks, and i didnā€™t want him to do something dickish or pretend that i died or something just to mess with you

James: heā€™s my best mate and i love him half to death, but heā€™s a bit of a knob sometimes

James: you donā€™t deserve that

James: and then remus is a fossil who still carries around a fucking nokia brick looking thing that i donā€™t even know how to use like heā€™s someoneā€™s grandpa

James: no luck there

James: and peter was away with his girlfriend for their anniversary

James: so i had to wait till i got a new phone sorted to be able to message you

James: iā€™m really sorry :(

Mary takes a sip of her hot chocolate and looks somewhat disdainfully at Lilyā€™s phone.

ā€˜Chatty, isnā€™t he?ā€™ Lily pulls an apologetic face.

ā€˜I promise I wonā€™t text him forever, Iā€™m justā€¦ processing. Give me two minutes and Iā€™m with you.ā€™

Lily: Iā€™m out with a friend right now so I canā€™t chat. But fine, I accept your apology. Iā€™ll call you later and we can talk properly.

James: okay! absolutely no worries. talk to you soon?

Lily: Yes. Talk to you soon. But Iā€™m still angry at you, so youā€™d better be on your best behaviour.

James: yes maā€™am.

Lily clicks her phone shut, and pinches the bridge of her nose.

ā€˜What did he say?ā€™

ā€˜He couldnā€™t text me because he chucked his phone down the stairs.ā€™

ā€˜Oh?ā€™

ā€˜And I hate to say it butā€¦ I buy it. Itā€™s something heā€™d do.ā€™ Mary humphs, unimpressed.

ā€˜You still want to see him, then?ā€™

ā€˜I- yeah, yeah I do. Heā€™s reallyā€¦ heā€™s really nice.ā€™

ā€˜Well then. Letā€™s see how Mr Nice keeps up.ā€™


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I know one thing: Dbd is the perfect series for Spooky season šŸ—£ā—ļø


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Based on what I know, I do not think Sirius and Regulus were even taught being gay was possible. I think Walburga/Orion refused to teach them it even exists. So I imagine them finding out like this:

Sirius: Yeah, if I was a girl I would probably date Remus to be honest. Such a shame itā€™s impossible for me to like him.

James: Impossible? What do you mean??

Sirius: Well you can only like people of the opposite gender.. right?

James: ā€¦No, you can like people of the same gender, that exists. Itā€™s a thing.

Sirius: ( Ā°ć…Ā°)

Sirius: I must tell Reg


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