camera leather

i’m in my prime,
not withering and old.
but i refuse to play
your wicked games any longer.

i know this tether is unbreakable,
but you make me feel like i’m interchangeable.
you drew a target on my heart,
when did this become fatal attraction?

i don’t have the strength,
the energy,
nor the patience
to be held hostage by your love.

so baby please don’t despair
when i say that
i’ve found the courage to
let you go.

you were never meant to be tied down in the first place.

—  believing i could love you was my mistake, c.j.n.
The Perfect Shot

Part Five

Originally posted by juggiehead

Pairing: Jughead x reader

Warnings: violence, swearing, angst

Summary: the reader has a bad time and it gets progressively worse ngl

A/N: I’m bad at summaries I apologise

Part One

It was not supposed to end like this: tied up in an abandoned building, dust stinging my eyes and something most definitely crawling up my leg. Wait, what’s that I see flushing itself down the toilet? Oh yeah, that would me my hopes and dreams for the future. Pretty sure they don’t accept corpses to college. A scholarship is no good to my dead ass. I knew I shouldn’t have listened to them. I knew Jughead Jones would do nothing but get me into trouble.

Yet here I am, wrists bound behind my back, about to be murdered by a biker gang.

Keep reading

2

so I got a haircut and I love the Pansy Parkinson vibe I’m getting from this. but also it’s summer outside and it’s time for colorful dresses?? why didn’t I do this during the winter..

What’s in my bag?

•7” Opinel
•Pipes - Comoy’s Tradition & Peterson Irish Army 999
•Tobacco pouches w/ Orlik Golden Sliced & my Opium Den blend
•Pipe Zippo, czech tool & spare matches
•Notepad & pen
•The Saturday Paper
•Cormac McCarthy’s No Country For Old Men
•Gorillapod
•iPhone 5
•Driving gloves & scarf

2

FRIDAY FRENZY | etsyfindoftheday 5 | 4.22.16

indie fabric DSLR camera strap by imoshop

this camera strap is screaming for a trip to a summertime music festival, man. love the pattern and the leather accents!

It was daylight when you woke up in your ditch. You looked up at your sky then. That made blue be your color. You had your knife there with you too. When you stood up there was goo all over your clothes. Your hands were sticky. You wiped them on your grass, so now your color was green. Oh Lord, why did everything always have to keep changing like this? You were already getting nervous again. Your head hurt, and it rang when you stood up. Your head was almost empty. It always hurt you when you woke up like this.

You crawled up out of your ditch and onto your gravel road, and began to walk, waiting for the rest of your mind to come back to you. You can see the car parked far down the road, and you walk toward it. “If God is our Father,” you thought, “then Satan must be our cousin.” Why didn’t anyone else understand these important things? You got to your car and tried all the doors. They were locked. It was a red car and it was new. There was an expensive leather camera case laying on the seat. Out across your field, you could see two tiny people walking by your woods. You began to walk towards them. Now red was your color and, of course, those little people out there were yours, too.

—  Disgustipated, Tool