im okay at least i am going to be okay

fwb; jungkook (6/7)

❝when you’re friends with benefits… and he falls in love.
►1761 words; series fwb (6/7)
♥ tagging @mvnyoongis / @versigny / @zeurin bc it’s not like you’re suffering bc of jungkook or anything :’)

Jungkook notices that while you’re sleeping, you somehow have the tendency to curl against the source of warmth that’s available. Now, one thing everyone knows is that Jungkook isn’t that affectionate of a person. Amongst the six he’s with most of the time, his usual pack of guys, he’s one to not appreciate it if you smother your hands all over him.

But you… you’re something else.

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This was supposed to be a doodle but then things got out of hand.

“Grades don’t define you” I sob, looking at my slowly falling GPA.

anonymous asked:

okay so i just saw your art in a vox article about the carmilla the movie and im just so happy for you and idk if someone told you or nah anyhow im v happy for you!!


OH god oh no they included the tags. Okay at least those tags aren’t too bad. Thank god I didn’t decide to go on a ramble about something decidedly stupid that day.

He’s on the kitchen counter. He’s in the fridge. He’s clambering onto the warp pad. He’s on the ladder. He’s on the couch. He’s outside. He’s back inside. He’s on the roof. He’s on the floor. He’s on top of the television set.

Garnet’s future vision can’t even keep up with the kid; it’s giving her a headache. Every place she sees Steven crawling over to becomes fuzzy, changes, he’s there and back again. For a one-year-old, Steven travels pretty much at the speed of light.

Garnet zips up the ladder to the loft to catch him before he hurts himself, but he slips out of her grasp once again, leaving a trail of mayhem in his wake. “Come on, little one,” she coaxes, chasing after him. “Want some applesauce? Yummy applesauce?”

He doesn’t.

Steven’s back down the ladder, enthusiastically exploring the couch cushions. She’s sure she’s got him but the speed demon’s already crawling off toward the window. “Oh, no you don’t.” Garnet lunges for him and finally, finally, catches him. “Ha! Now let’s just sit tight and wait for Pearl and Amethyst to get back.” She sets him down and turns back to make sure the window is shut tight.

That was her mistake.

When she turns back around a second later, Steven’s vanished. “Steven?” she calls, eyes sweeping the room. “Steven.” No sign of him.

Garnet’s searching the room, trying to figure out how to explain to Greg and the gems how she managed to lose their son, when she finds Steven hiding behind the warp pad, smiling.

“You little monster,” she says, scooping him up with a grin. Vanishing her visor, she blinks at him, sticks her tongue out. Steven giggles. “Let’s have some of that applesauce,” she declares, carrying him to the kitchen and plunking him in his highchair.

She keeps her back to the fridge, eyes on him, as she reaches in to grab a container of applesauce. Still watching Steven, she rips off the top and trashes it, and then places it on Steven’s tray.

He blinks, looks from the applesauce to Garnet, back to the applesauce, back to Garnet. He bangs his little baby fist, and then Garnet realizes what she forgot: a spoon.

“Here,” she says, grabbing a spoon for him. But when she spins around— he’s gone again. “Steven!”

Garnet sprints around the counter and finds him making a beeline for the ladder. She groans and stomps over to snatch him up. “Steven,” Garnet sighs, “you could at least make it easier on me. I’ve only got two…” –she glances down at her gems— “… hands.”

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Maybe it's just me...

Maybe it’s that my body doesn’t look how it’s supposed too.
Maybe it’s that my brain doesn’t comprehend as fast as it should.
Maybe it’s that my stretch marks are the only thing I see.
Maybe it’s that I can’t accept compliments because I think they are lies.
Maybe it’s that I can’t accept you love me because I can’t even love myself.
Maybe it’s that when I get out of bed in the morning I dread that people will judge me.
Maybe it’s that I don’t feel I’m even worth loving.
Maybe it’s that I feel like I am a waste of space.
Maybe it’s that I feel that I shouldn’t even try because I’m going to fail anyway.
Maybe it’s that I can’t trust people because I feel like they will just leave me like all the others.
Maybe it’s that I’m afraid to hurt again so I push everyone away.
Maybe it’s that I feel I’m worthless.
Maybe it’s that I was bullied so terribly that I started to believe.
Maybe it’s that I had no one to count on in my time of need.
Maybe it’s that I always feel like you are going to leave because your tired of me.
Maybe it’s that I feel like you can do better than me.
Maybe it’s that I can’t love myself the way other can.
Maybe it’s that I can’t wear the same clothes that other wear because I hate myself to much.
Maybe it’s that I cry in bed because I can remember every hateful thing you said to me.
Maybe it’s that I have to big of a heart.
Maybe it’s that when people say bigger is better when people finally feel comfortable with themselves they can still feel your stare.
Maybe it’s that little voice in my head telling me that you hate me, think I’m gross, find me revolting, wish I wasn’t around.
Maybe it’s that I can’t accept myself because I’ve never been accepted by others.
Maybe it’s that I will always care about you more than you care about me.
Maybe it’s not I don’t want you to give up on me.
Maybe it’s that I crave affection because all I’ve been given was hatred.
Maybe it’s that I’ve always discriminated because of how I look.
Maybe it’s that I just didn’t care anymore and tried to end it all.
Maybe it’s that I hide my scars.
Maybe it’s that I can’t help but want to feel like I belong.
Maybe it’s that you will never truly understand me.
Maybe it’s that I will never understand myself.
But that’s okay, because I will never stop being who I am.
It’s okay because I find happiness in the little things.
It’s okay because deep down I know that I am a better person.
It’s okay to not be accepted.
It’s okay to be who you are.
There’s only one of me, why should I have to change to fit into a world that doesn’t accept me for who I am?
Maybe it’s that I’m an absolute mess, but at least I can admit it.
Maybe it’s that my waist isn’t the smallest, or my teeth aren’t the straightest, or my hair isn’t the longest, my nose is to big.
I am not perfect. And I never will be.
So why try and change who I am and what I look like.
I’m alive, I’m breathing.
I’m struggling and broken.
But I’m going to be okay.
Maybe, I’m just me.


This is for mamahersh, who requested angst + blood blossoms for the Christmas Truce. Sorry it’s late; I hope you enjoy it. : )


Danny’s watch beeps in the middle of Chemistry.

He sighs and stops it, setting it for another six hours, and rummages in his pockets. Nobody looks up at the sound, not anymore. He pulls out a small white bottle and rattles it to test its weight before unscrewing the cap. It’s still mostly full.

“No eating in the lab!” the teacher barks, and he pauses, groans, and slinks outside. This time heads do follow him, but only briefly before looking back down at their benches. If there’s any whispering he tells himself he’s imagining it.

He leans against the wall just outside the classroom and shakes out a pill containing a pinkish powder into his hand, before swallowing it dry. The bottle is capped and returned to his pocket, and he returns to class.


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