serving up your daily dose of cute nighttime looks


The boys worked hard on this album and its clearly upsetting to them that this happened. To avoid further damage, please stop sharing the leaked songs and respect them by patiently waiting for the official release. Please and thank you :)

Carmilla MiniCrack v.1 otherwise known as'Christmas Crack-ers'

Watch other crackvids here

there is a boy in your bed with fire in his eyes and your coke in his veins and god knows what on his hands, and if you touch him, you’ll burn. he sleeps with his fists clenched and he dreams of monsters and you think sometimes he must dream of you, but he wakes up screaming all the same.

there is a boy in your bed who cuts like glass, a boy with something dangerous and broken at the edge of his smile, and he’s all kinds of heartbreak and you know you should be careful, but you always did have trouble knowing when to stop, didn’t you?

there is a boy in your bed and he is like you, you think, only better. there is a boy in your bed and he is nothing like you, because he matters.

there is a boy in your bed and you think that if you offer him your body then he might do something interesting. this is not how it works, but his fingers look like they were made for the groove of your hips and so you tell him you want him, and maybe now he’ll pretend to want you back. maybe now he won’t need to pretend.

there is a boy in your bed and you love him.

there is a boy in your bed and you love him, but you’re afraid.

there is a boy in your bed until you wake up, and then there isn’t.

—  for the boy in love with a dreamer | m.c.p (for maurine)


[1/15] Pairings - Perry Cox and Jordan Sullivan (Scrubs)

"And so, by the power vested in me by the American Bar Association, I pronounce you ex-husband and ex-wife. You may now do whatever the hell you want."

You’re staring down at your hands with the kind of disapproving blankness that you usually reserve for a particularly bad scene, and true to the gesture, you’re feeling all hells of muddled right now. It’s the first time you’ve had your feet on this floor in a while, and there’s sunlight coming in from the proper direction, not the ambient, directionless glow of LOHAC’s lava.
There’s a stale breeze behind you, and you’re so consumed with confusion at how big your sleeves are on your tiny wrists that you don’t notice the noise at first.

 It’s distant, and far below you, and so familiar that even after all these years away from your home city. Truly, the cars never really stop driving through the streets. You can only imagine it’s the early morning, and you get a good, full view out your partially open window as your pictures flutter in the light wind. Snoop dog watches you proudly from the wall, and you nearly trip over your own saggy pants before you realize what’s up.

What’s up is that you’ve shrunken. Texas is alive once more, your pictures are no longer tear stained, and all hung up on the wire where they belong. You curse as it becomes apparent that SBURB dropped you right back where you started garbed in all your god tier glory. Is this some new test? Are you supposed to prove something? God, you don’t fucking know, all you know is that you’re way too small, and way too skinny. Where are those fucking muscles you built up? Christ, you’re back to being as physically intimidating as Cal unmanned by your Bro. You clench your fingers.

The fuck is this? You think to yourself, Some kind of apology? “Sorry this game fucked up your life, man. You know what? Here you are, back in the saddle, thirteen and ready to give life a shot.” You’re almost (almost) frightened to think of how this is going to leave you, and you go to remove your sunglasses to sneak a look in their reflection at the state of your eyes when you hear movement on the other side of the door.


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