just.......... because

9

Wings Tour Final Seokjin

sweet vld stan aes ♡

shiro stans: cloudy weather, the smokey smell of forests, foggy mornings, sunrise, black cats with bright eyes, vintage cars, soft damp hair, hot coffee in the morning, the city lights, night time driving, an owl hooting at night, star gazing, combat boots, late night conversations, calloused hands, lightening cracking across darkened skies, comfortable silence

keith stans: naps while it rains, cool breeze through your hair, a cats soft purr, full book shelves along the walls, incense burning, the calm before the storm, twilight, dimly lit rooms, snow peaked mountains, leather jackets, harley davidson motorcycles, finger less gloves, overcast weather, graffiti, late night concerts, dyed hair, a vintage painting 

lance stans: a softly played (latin) guitar, warm sand at the beach, the smell of salt water in the air, the gentle lapping of water, hat on backwards, good smelling lotions, gentle face masks, the sound of the ocean waves, feeling the sun warm your skin for the first time today, clear blue skies, open fields, tree leaves rustling in the wind, the smell of sun screen, bubble gum, tanned skin, jean jackets

hunk stans: warm clothes straight out the dryer, fresh baked cookies that melt in your mouth, florescent lit up rooms, converse all stars, sweat pants, telescopes, constellations, star gazing, road trips, candid photos, bandannas, history and art museums, cameras, nose kisses, long walks, roller coasters, bumblebees, splashing in the water, the smell of a fresh and newly bought book, abstract paintings, pizzerias, old nintendo video games

pidge stans: falling asleep in libraries, bicycles with baskets full of books, collared shirts, classic literature, potted plants, neat handwriting, daydreaming, ice cream trucks, big headphones, sunflowers,round vintage glasses, quick tapping of fingers on a keyboard, shelves full of journals, doodles on notes, christmas lights strung up along the walls, fishnet leggings

allura stans: bath bombs, space buns, flower crowns, bright eye shadow, red lipstick, the moon, pink lemonade, rose water, sunset, romantic poetry, watercolors, running through a meadow, messy buns, floral dresses, iced tea, going to the fair, cotton candy, milkshakes, flower shops, silk night gown, a warm bed, silhouette, crochet tops, holographic skirts

coran stans: hand written love letters, elvis presely, record players, polaroid cameras, cool buttons and pins clipped to jean jackets, ankle boots, old trucks, old mix tapes, cigar boxes, photo albums, recorded videos, family gatherings, speeding down open roads, the warm afternoon, type writers, loose shirts, blue jeans, engraved pocket knives, black coffee, green forests, wandering deers, cool colored ankle socks

LISTEN. Riverdale is just a FICTIONAL tv show. To insult REAL people for their ships is just really, really pathetic on your part. So KNOCK it OFF and get a grip.

Peace is meaningless

i can’t believe there are people out there who hate liam like what a sad life they must live

Someone: Maybe the end of net neutrality is a good thing since all of you are addicted to the Internet

… Who cares if it screws over artists, indie brands, anyone who makes money using the internet, homeschoolers, libraries, poor college students, and you know people who don’t have much money but use the internet regularly. But hey, at least this generation will use the internet less.

anonymous asked:

what do you think your first kiss with bestfriend!steve would be like ???

Very hesitant and it’d be a long time coming, because he’s already struggled with losing all of his friends, and he couldn’t bear to lose the only person who has ever been a true friend to him: you. So regardless of how much he’s wanted to kiss you for so long, he refuses to do anything about it, because he just can’t fathom risking losing you. 

Then one day, you two are play fighting, Steve trying to tickle you while you try and fight him off. The gentle sunlight seeps through the curtains, and he can’t stop staring at the way it makes your eyes sparkle, or the way your laughter warms his heart. 

He finally gets you pinned down against the carpet, his face hovering just a couple of inches above yours. Your laughter fades into a smile, and Steve can’t help but mirror it. Right then, he wants to kiss you more than he wants to take his next breath – but he knows that he shouldn’t.

Then you whisper, “Are you kiss me or what?”

He thought he misheard you at first, but he can see the ghost of a smirk on your lips and the hope in your eyes. So he kisses you – with just as much passion and love as he’s been dying to show you for forever, and he can’t help but smile a little into the kiss.

They say that good things come to those who wait, and damn, were they right.

anonymous asked:

Hey Bre! So glad you've also fallen into the Kastle dark side - I was wondering if we're going to see any fics of them from you soon?

I keep thinking I’ll calm down, beautiful anon, that I’ll chill, but it’s not happening. I have so many Kastle feels.

I’m going to answer with something angsty that’s been plaguing me…


The blood on her fingers isn’t a strange sight. 

She’s used to it, more than she should be, she thinks. The crimson stains her skin, seeps into the cracks, caking her fingernails, and she’s used to it, to how wet and sticky it is, how warm. She’s used to that, used to finding wounds and throwing herself at them

trying to assuage the flow

to fill the gaping hole

to stop the life seeping out

What she isn’t used to is that she never can when it comes to him.

She always has to watch his blood flood through her fingers, so much of it coming out no matter how hard she pushes on the holes in his chest, no matter how tight she holds him, how much she whispers - begs - telling him to hold on, just a few more minutes, that he’s survived so much worse and she’s here and you can’t do this don’t leave me don’t go i’m here

He stares up at her, watching her, his eyes startlingly clear, lucid, aware, and he knows, he always knows that this is it. She hates it, because she feels it too, in her bones, a certainty that makes her shake and cry and scream and no no no you can’t go don’t leave 

i can’t lose you

But she does.

The blood pools underneath him, spreading, cold by the time it reaches her knees where she kneels next to him, where she tries to save him, to keep him

“No, please, Frank, please, don’t, no… stay with me, stay…”

She can’t save him. She never can. 

no no no no no

“Hey, Karen, wake up. Wake up, Karen. Wake up. You’re dreaming.”

Keep reading

I just miss Cas a lot…