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this blog is now archived!!!
CAN’T YOU COME BACK? ————— fandomless oc. written by lee.
CAN’T YOU COME BACK? ————— fandomless oc. written by lee.
CAN’T YOU COME BACK? ————— fandomless oc. written by lee.
i’m gonna remake btw. i feel weird on this blog idk why
good morning 🥺🥺🥺 ilyyyy
ITS TOMORROW ITS TOMORROW
i love her, and that's the beginning and end of everything ❋
me & magdalena, the monkees / lolita, vladimir nabokov / futile devices, sufjan stevens / the raven king, maggie stiefvater / city of glass, cassandra clare / more than a woman, the bee gees / walls, louis tomlinson / the short life of sparrows, emm cole / the great gatsby, f. scott fitzgerald / on loving, forugh farrokhzad / carmilla, joseph sheridan le fanu / dear scott, dearest zelda, f. scott fitzgerald
image descriptions below the cut
Sandra Diola by Ryan Treitel for Free People Catalog 2020
@triphaze sent: i’m not going into practise today. i’m staying home with you.
an attempt to sit up is made. she gets propped up on her elbows before the effort is too much. with a huff, she drops back down on the bed. her body feels weak. and sore. and sweaty. she hates feeling this way. doesn’t coincide with the infallible armour she knows she has. “you don’t have to,” she argues. “go on. i’ll be fine. i just need to lay down.”
@janedoez sent: that cough does not sound good.
despite the soul - wrecking coughing fit, divina has the audacity to downplay her illness. she never gets sick. she knows this better than anyone. never mind the slight fever and the persistent nausea. she’s perfectly fine. “what cough?” she rasps, barely getting her volume above a pathetic whisper. her voice is scratchy. and not in its typical sexy, post - cigarette way. “i’m fine.”
@janedoez sent: you’ve got nothing much to lose.
“i’m going to lose supper,” divina reasons. even then, her hand inches towards the drink placed in front of her. a battle rages in her head. she doesn’t need another drink. but another drink will certainly soften the blow of such a disastrous date. carefully, her fingers slide the glass a little closer. lips curl around the straw, taking a long sip. she winces at the taste before saying, confidently, “i will lose supper.”
@cardiomyapathy sent: keep it. it looks better on you.
there’s no mistaking the briefest curl of her lips. “i wasn’t planning on giving it back,” she says in an effort to deflect. maybe the slight smile was quick enough to go unnoticed. divina’s not taking that chance, though. “i look good in black, you know.”
@bingtm sent: i’m not afraid of you.
it sounds more like he’s assuring himself of that fact rather than telling her. divina looks up from the cutting board. he’s much farther away now. closer to the doorway then she originally remembers. cleaver gestures to the vegetable scraps on the other side of the kitchen island. “make yourself useful then.” arm comes down again, chopping right through the bone of the chicken she’s preparing. “throw those onion skins out for me.”
purging asks before november oops sorry sorry sorry
EUPHORIA 2.02 | “Out of Touch”