you looking rough

i mean im an adult, i guess, if that’s the word for it. a lot of things i used to care about i just say “Fuck It” and let go. 

but it’s incredible to me that there’s still so many passages to my soul. how just a group of teenagers looking at me and laughing makes my teeth hurt. how someone’s comment sends me back to high school bullying. how i am constantly asking myself are they even really my friends? 

i don’t know. i never throw myself birthday parties because my worst nightmare would be that nobody shows. i just wonder if there’s ever a time that your last insecurities let go. i’ve only ever found that kind of freedom at the honey lips of tequila. i want to be brave at two pm on a sunday. i want to actually not care what they say. i want to be the kind of witch that laughs through the burning.

i don’t know. i hope i’m learning.

3

Gongmyung congratulating his brother 

8

Book Aesthetics (27/??) | Dreadnought by April Daniels

They want me to cooperate in my own destruction. They want me to tell them it’s not true. The want me to help them believe the lie. NEVER AGAIN.

reblog with something that made your day today

you’re on your way home from work when you get a text from your wife. you pull over to check it, the corners of your mouth dropping as you look.

“rough day. i know you had to work late but i really need a hug. i planned to surprise you with supper made but the elementary school’s baseball team was collecting change and came to the door. i gave them a fiver but forgot to keep an eye on the stove and it scorched right to the pot. i’m sorry… we have leftover pasta in the fridge, at least. it’ll be good enough.”

the drive was short, but you arrive home forty five minutes later than already expected. you ring the doorbell, and when she opens up, your wife’s exasperation softens to a weak smile when she sees the sundaes sitting on top of the piping hot pizza boxes in your hands.

“what do i owe you?” she asks.
“a hug.”

I caved y’all. I tried to resist the temptation, but @zephyrine-gale ‘s crop top trend was too strong and I just *clenches fist* had to;;; so…behold: crop top with finger-less glove sleeves (my dream shirt tbh)

so anyone who’s been around me for a while knows I love sick!fic. Anyone who’s been around me for a while also knows I am indecisive terrified of writing one for whatever reason. One of my new year’s resolutions is to write a full-fledged sick!fic, so I guess - I mean - I found this. Consider this a warm-up. (thanks a LOT @andriseup)


Shiro is so miserable he barely notices when the door swooshes open; barely notices when Lance comes in.

“Hey,” Lance says. His voice is soft, but even so Shiro flinches. “Sorry, sorry. Just wanted to come check on you since you didn’t swing by for breakfast. You doing okay?”

The answer’s obvious enough Shiro doesn’t even need to try. He does anyway, peeling his eyes open just an inch. Lance is standing at the side of Shiro’s bed, staring down with gentle concern. He crouches to a better height; the movement alone sends everything spinning. Shiro squeezes his eyes back closed with an involuntary whimper.

“Oh, Shiro,” Lance whispers. “Why didn’t you call? You’re supposed to call us if it gets that bad.”

Shiro has no idea how to answer that. He shouldn’t have to. He shouldn’t still be this sick; he shouldn’t still be dependent on his friends; should be able to at least get out of bed in the fucking morning.

“Where is your comm, anyway,” Lance mutters. He shifts, searching; the sounds of his efforts fill the room as Lance brushes his hand over Shiro’s little bedside nook, the crack between the sheets and the bed frame, the floor. Shiro just lays there and listens. His head’s pounding. He’s too warm.

“Ah, here it is,” Lance says, at last. “No wonder. How’d it end up on the floor?”

Shiro doesn’t have an answer for that, either. Maybe he can get away with pretending to be asleep.

“Well, here it is for later,” Lance says, “I’m setting it on your table, okay? Now, big guy, what’s wrong? Is it your head?”

His palm carefully presses against Shiro’s forehead, under Shiro’s limp bangs. His touch is gentle, and somehow grounding - at least until Lance jerks his hand back in surprise. He presses it back almost immediately, his palm cool and kind. Shiro groans.

“You’re burning up,” Lance murmurs, mostly to himself. His frown is audible. “Why is your fever back?”

No, Shiro thinks, tries to say. The word sticks in his throat. No, don’t. I can handle this. You shouldn’t have to.

“I’m calling the others,” Lance says, softly.

“No,” Shiro groans, finally. “No, Lance…”

The words are barely a whisper.

“I’m not leaving,” Lance promises, deliberately misinterpreting. There’s a soft little click when Lance pushes down the call button on the comm. “Just getting someone else. I’m staying right here with you. I’m not going anywhere.”

2

spread, spread, spread my wings 🎶

The Morning After

Dean woke up with a splitting headache and a horrible taste in his mouth. And he was on the floor beside his bed. He had to have been out of it to fall and not wake up. He reached for his robe on the hook by the door and shuffled into the kitchen. Coffee. Needed coffee.

Sam had his tablet out, cruising for newstories that might turn into a case. He raised his eyebrow at his disheveled brother. He let him go through the motions of getting his coffee cup and pouring before he opened his mouth.

“Umm…Dean?”

Dean grunted his response.

“You’re wearing Cas’ trenchcoat.”

“No ‘m not.”

Sam laughed. “Yeah, Dean. You are. You guys must have gotten hammered last night.”

Dean finally looked himself over then shrugged. “Guess he hung it on my robe hook.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say. Dean.”

Cas stumbled in a few minutes later. His hair was sticking up in several directions and his eyes were as bloodshot as Dean’s. He was wearing Dean’s tee shirt and boxer briefs. He sat down and Dean slid the rest of his coffee over.

“You look rough, man.” Sam assessed.

“Tequila,” he answered in his gruff voice. He downed the half cup of coffee and picked at his coat still draped around Dean. After looking him over he said, “So that’s where my underwear went.”

Sam spit the milk from his cereal across the table.

dating kj apa | (would include)

Originally posted by alfred-enoch

- you love it when he lets his bead grow up

- “you look so hot, and rough”

- watching him playing his guitar

- “babe can you film me playing the guitar for a sec”

- asking him to give you guitar lessons and totally sucking

- “it’s too hard!” “you’ve almost got it babe”

- kj would always mention you in everything, including interviews, he loves to brag.

- teasing him about his red hair, but secretly loving it

- never being able to be mad at you

- “god you’re so adorable”

- forehead kisses on forehead kisses

- late night cuddle sessions

- always takes you to see your favourite bands/artists when they tour near you

- constant banter

- “for the love of god- kj you just aren’t daddy”

- getting to meet the entire riverdale cast

- everyone would love you guys as a couple

- being his date to all his events

- having to third wheel whenever cole & kj were together

- you’re his princess

- going to set to visit kj

- whenever he was back with you he took you out every single weekend

- being silly/goofy together all the time

- constant facetimes when he’s away

- ass grabbing

- “kj! we’re in public” “baby i know you love it”

- barley any fights

- melting when he calls you baby girl

- kj constantly posting photos of you on his instagram and even on his story

- netflix all day

- make out sessions

- literally everything in your entire relationship in passionate

- spending as much time together as possible before he has to go back to work

- visiting new zealand with me

- “jeez it’s freezing!”

- cuddles on cuddles on cuddles

- long hugs

- borrowing (stealing) all of kj’s clothes

- watching him drool as you walk around in nothing but your underwear and one of his shirts

- playing with his dog

- “you’re the cutest doggie in the world”

- jealous kj so much jealous kj

- “quit looking at my girl” “my girl?”

- teasing

- long kisses

- piggy backs when your feet start to ache

- pestering him to sing to you

- catching him recording you as you dance around in the bathroom

- over protective kj

- chill nights in

- going camping and turning your phones up and disconnect yourself from the world but not each other

- lots of disposable cameras

- laughing so much your stomach aches

- massages his head when he was trouble sleeping

- back scratches

- taking goofy pictures together and of each other

- “you’re such a dork”

- wakes up to cuddle you in the middle of the night when you wake up from a nightmare.

- watching riverdale with him and watching him make out with cami

- “is this awkward?” “nah i’m kinda jealous”

- going to coachella with him, the riverdale gang and he’s other guy friends

- “your girlfriends smoking” “shut it”

- constant present and surprises and not to mention flowers

- buying you a puppy so when your home and he isn’t you won’t be all alone.

imagines taglist🌿| @hauntedcherryblossombanana-blog @sadbreakfastclb @jugandbettsdetectiveagency @kindfloweroflove @fragilefrances @natalieroseg @xbobaaa @sardonic

and this,
how you see yourself,
how you stare at your own face
in the mirror,
is a different kind of violence.
not bloody but still brutal,
still choking, in it’s own way.