war room stories

has anything like this e v e r struck you? if ever a likeness that you're scraping for pockets of air? whatever you're l i k e when you ᴄᴀᴍᴇ ɪɴ. w h a t e v e r you use, whatever you choose, whatever your acronym. they say that either you're out or you're IN. but you're on. they say that either you're out or you’ll s w i m on your own. but heres the 𝑔𝓇𝑜𝓊𝓃𝒹 and theres your ꜰᴇᴇᴛ and never the two shall meet.

[smthngod-blog]

vivcldi:

morning  had  to  come  eventually  no  matter  how  little  mia  wanted  it  to.  she  couldn’t  remember  the  last  time  she  had  slept  so  undisturbed  by  her  own  mind,  so  fully  at  ease  with  her surroundings,  and  it  scared  her  just  how  fast  she  could  get  used  to  it.

she  woke  up  slowly,  the  only  time  she  had  ever  found  herself  tranquil  and  calm.  mia’s  energy  wore  herself  down  at  times,  an  act  she  had  learned  to  work  into  her  zealous  self,  and  it  was  hard  to  shed  it.  only  when  she  was  in  his  arms  did  she  allow  herself  to  be  something  softer,  something  that  didn’t  need  fixing  —  with  him,  mia  found  she  could  be  whole.  no  love  songs  came  close  to  explaining  just  how  she  felt,  and  she  wasn’t  sure  if  this  was  going  to  be  her  downfall.  either  way,  she  felt  some  type  of  falling  around  vincent.

so  morning  had  to  come  eventually,  but  mia  woke  up  slowly.  this  was  a  comment  to  the  world  that  this  was  good  and  she’d  be  happy  like  this  forever.  she  was  acutely  aware  of  the  male  lying  pressed  against  her,  one  of  her  curled  fists  resting  upon  his  chest.  not  until  his  electric  touch  brushed  against  her  did  she  dare  to  believe  it  was  real,  and  that’s  when  she  slowly  opened  her  eyes  to  gaze  at  him.  he  looked  unreal  with  the  light  hitting  his  sun-kissed  skin,  kind  eyes  meeting  hers,  messy  hair  —  perfect,  perfect  boy.  ❛ good  morning, ❜  she  mumbled  gently,  leaning  into  his  soft  touch.  ❛ did  you  sleep? ❜

the next morning came around with a vengeance, to collect its debts. the vibrations of yesterday still lingered in the air, thick and heavy to breathe as if it was midday. out of the two things that had woken him up - the sun and romeo - he couldn't decide which one had him sweating more, they both radiated an exorbitant warmth. ultimately, he wasn't left alone anymore in this dreamy kingdom they had created, where nothing seemed real and yet inexplicably raw. the all too familiar eyes looked up at him, still oozing tiredness. here they were, with all their faults and flaws. messy hair, sleepy eyes, husky voices - and he wouldn't want to have it any other way. the epitome of perfect, he could have sworn this moment was intended by god exactly how it was. his response was a low grumble, the sound as an exchange for 'yes'. before engaging in the conversation, he gave himself a generous stretch, so satisfying that it led vincent to release yet another grumble. "yup," he finally answered, his voice still rough. he nodded his head in romeo's direction, diverting mia's attention to the fluffy up-to-no-good. "he still does. how about you?"

[smthngod-blog]

vivcldi:

she  could  almost  feel  her  heart  in  her  throat  when  the  question  slipped,  unsure  of  whether  he  would  agree or  not,  and  unsure  of  how  she  was  to  react  if  he  walked  away  after  all.  her  worries  were  soon  put  to  rest  though,  as  he  took  his  place  next  to  her  in  the  bed.  she  hoped  he  wouldn’t  notice  how  her  heart  was  threatening  to  beat  its  way  right  out  of  her  chest  with  him  next  to  her,  but  there  was  no  way  he  couldn’t  and  there  was  no  way  he  didn’t  know  by  now  anyway.  mia  wore  her  heart  on  her  sleeve  proudly.

the  girl  melted  into  the  other’s  touch  immediately,  his  arm  providing  her  with  the  closeness  she  craved  so  much.  they  could  be  like  this  within  the  walls  of  her  apartment  where  the  world  couldn’t  touch  them  or  attempt  to  tell  them  who  they  should  be.  she  had  fallen  in  love  with  every  part  of  him,  but  maybe  most  of  all  his  soul.

everything  about  it  felt  right,  and  mia  wiggled  her  way  over  to  face  vincent  instead,  still  with  his  arm  tightly  around  her.  ❛ goodnight,  vince, ❜  she  mumbled,  head  resting  against  his  chest,  not  knowing  whether  she’d  want  to  drift  into  sleep  and  her  sweet  dreams,  or  stay  just  like  this  for  a  little  bit  longer.

maybe they could hear it, the sound of the other's heart pounding. the times of only their shadows touching was long over. it was their hearts and minds that now sought the other's presence. maybe that was the price vincent had to pay for swallowing everything but mainly his feelings. the words voiced through touches, through moments like these that could never be revisited through an photograph and was only accesible in his mind until the image would blur in old age. but maybe that was the proper way to live. and to love. "good night, tortellini," he mumbled, suddenly feeling heavy in the warmth of another body next to him. that's how they were, sleeping and dreaming; their bodies humming and unfazed. in this dream, they could love without hurting. ____ at first, it was gentle taps on the duvet that woke vincent up. next, the sun that was clearly shining right onto his face, appearing red through his closed eyes. his brain felt fuzzy, obscured, unsure of whether or not he wanted to actually be awake. a few minutes passed like this until he wanted to turn on his back and realized that this was more difficult than initially anticipated. carefully he opened his eyes, afraid the sun would blind him but instead another light welcomed him. mia's short hair looked wilder than ever before, her mouth slightly open and the soothing sound of her breathing layered itself around vincent's soul. his eyes wandered to the foot of the bed where romeo had casually invited himself to spend the morning. vincent swallowed, his throat dry and begging for water but hell would turn over before he woke mia up. instead, he shuffled closer to her, gently brushing her bangs out of her face to fully admire her.

[smthngod-blog]

leemniscatus:

          aaron’s freelancing involved long periods of spare time in the absence of work. he never seemed to mind, since he always found a way to keep himself on the move. it was the need to remain busy, or permanence would kill him otherwise. for this same reason, he rarely quit photography. after a day well-spent in company of his camera, he headed down to one of his favorite restaurants in st. clementine. pizza with crisp crust and piled high toppings sounded like an excellent selection. aaron, self-declared carnivore, chose to keep part of his entire dish, featuring beef, sausage, pepperoni and salami for dinner. cooking was definitely not his hobby. the server handed him the meal and he left, quite delighted. his smile grew bigger once he stepped out.

when the stranger raised the minimal question, he snorted in amusement. followed by an entertained ohhh. plain-spoken little thing. maybe the second adjective did not qualify, considering the other male was a few inches taller. he never saw height, or anything really, as a reason to back down, quite the opposite — trials brought out the best (the courage, the vehemence) in him. he decided to take a closer look and he was able to recognize the challenger, one of the customers that had left the establishment before him. aaron’s heavy stare was evident on the patron, whose attitude turned out to be even more noticeable. someone looking for trouble, without doubt. easy to spot and to identify with. he could give him that.

“ looks like you might be the one with the problem. still hungry ? was your pizza cold ? “ he shook his neatly packed box of leftovers, its sound was both an invitation and a provocation. then, aaron threw the small carton at the man before him.

it was a match made in heaven. finding someone in this lovely yet simultaneously eery town who was seeking the thrill of an unreasoned fight occasionally posed as a problem. especially when vincent had gotten into so many arguments that he was running out of opponents or got bored of the same old faces to meet his knuckles. their encounter was drafted by a pathetic energy, both would find more satisfaction in their life if they possessed the ability to just jog on and mind their own business. vincent never heard of the latter. if you asked him, everything was a concern to him and deserved his unsolicited opinion. again, pathetic. vincent scoffed. he paid the previously neatly packed box of whatever this prick just had no mind. instead, he escape his position of leaning against his car and deliberately stepped onto the box to exclude any possible recovery. he stretched his body to its maximum height, getting the best out of every centimeter god had given him. hands buried in the pockets of his jacket he walked up to the other, looking down at him with a hint of disgust on his face as if he just recognized a revolting smell. "jog on, little one, before i forget myself."

[smthngod-blog]

wrathbane:

     ELEVEN YEARS. ASK, AND she’d tell you: i’ve grown up. i was good. i did what i could. somewhere between holding on and letting go, i chose the wrong side of a fire door to walk through. what she wouldn’t say, even if it meant another lifetime without him to hold her through it: i’ve missed you. i missed you. i miss you. eleven years couldn’t see the bones she’d broken, or the nights she’d spent kneeling on plywood, face slanted heavenward to ask the moon if she was ready to bring him back to her.

     she often wondered if there was anything left for them, or if she should find cruel hilarity in the miracle that they’d found each other at all. vincent was no heir to kindness, this she could tell —and it shattered her to think that he’d been fed and watered and pushed to wither by the same twisted fate.

     the lurid border between sleep and waking retreated as he came to her, all unlatched muzzle and canine gleam and sharpened teeth. catherine felt the fabric of his shirt graze her heels, and lifted them onto the brunt of his thighs. she wouldn’t allow herself to look at him just yet — though the coarseness of his voice and the shape of him, yes, the same one she’d memorised by heart, were more than enough to leave her unsullied.

     ❝ i ‘unno. ❞ she picked idly at the hem of her nightshirt, now painfully aware of how high it’d ridden up on her bare skin. daring to eye him up from beneath her too-long fringe, catherine felt her heart plummet at the hard set of his jowl, torn and flayed open in a way that made terror spike at her nape. pulling herself upright, she drew her legs to her chest and nudged him with the point of her elbow. ❝ hey, what happened ?  ❞

only for a split second the cool liquid could condemn any heat that had acquired in his body throughout this hot day. the ocean breeze was little comfort when one worked away in a garage, surrounded by roaring, heated engines and hands covered with slick oil. he sighed quietly upon the taste of alcohol on his tongue. how sad, how very dismal and despressing it was that this was the epitome of consolation. a cold beer. add a few lines taken with the help of sir winston churchill and you had his typical night. rest was for the weak. "hm?" the unexpected question interrupted his self-pity riddled thoughts. doe eyes dripping with worry looked at him from underneath a few strands of hair. it was beyond him how she did it. how she picked up the slightest changes of the wind, a mere notion in the pitch of his voice and cat knew something was up. she could spot him from across a crowded room and knew how he felt, a look was enough. sometimes it bothered vincent. he liked the loneliness of his mind, being alone in his inner empire and the fact that cat entered it so easily unsettled him. an intruder who meant no harm. his hand rose to her face, catching her fringe between his index and middle finger while immitating the movement of scissors. "cut your bangs, kitty," he said with the most gentle smile on his lips he could possibly come up with. as he dropped his warm back to his side again, he leaned his head on the couch's back rest, his eyes not diverting from her face. "nothing, why?" it was futile to deny it. cat had her tunnel vision on him, saw right through him, bared his being down to his bones. he truly never learned.

[smthngod-blog]

qrffin:

           THIS  WAS  ACHING,  HE  SUPPOSED,  AND  MAYBE  that was all there could be to it. to them. griffin’s hands ached to reach out and grow acquainted with vincent’s, his lips ached to know his, his mind ached to touch the other’s. and still they had doom written all over them, like the last bit of winter snow before spring melted it away — it was for the better this way, griffin knew. ruination was imminent for boys like them, together or apart, and the boy felt it was his responsibility to minimize casualties. he had already caused enough pain in this world, upon others, and most of all upon himself. walking away would be victory.

«could be worse, i guess,» he agreed to vincent’s comment, and griffin knew all there was about the worse places. he had learned fast where he could stay dormant for a while and where he was a hurricane, and st. clementine was allowing him to be a bit of both. he wasn’t sure whether it was a good or bad thing yet, but it was home despite it all. and now vincent was part of all of it.

«remember the first time we met ?» slipped, but though griffin’s mind was telling him to grab the reigns before it was too late, his words were moving in retrograde. there was something about vincent that had the boy tongue-tied, and yet he didn’t seem able to shut up. «our friends warned me you’d be a fucking prick,» he smiled as he recalled, «they weren’t completely wrong, but i’ve grown to like that about you.»

vincent scoffed. first impressions were vastly overrated. it was a facade of people bending backwards until they had no spine, putting on layers they would never usually consider, just to appeal to odd strangers who did the same thing. he hated it with a passion. that was the price of freedom, being unapologetically raw. in his mind, he looks back at this first encounter with griffin and the steel skeleton of his memory seems to fall back with weight, groaning with the gravity of its obscurity. the immediate time after his return from london feels porous, barely coherent in his mind, but oddly enough, griffin shines in the depth of his memory. "mhm," vincent mumbles, unable to suppress a grin. "guess they aren't wrong. but that's why you love me, right?" the thoughtlessness of his words only hit him seconds after, their impact was still vibrating through the air. in this moment, vincent was desperate for solid ground beneath his feet even though he had doubts that his legs could carry him in this very moment. the slow grind of steel set in motion again, transporting them through the air. "i mean. like, of course." his grin died quickly, sweaty palms held onto the bar of steel.

[smthngod-blog]

spicy memes

❤️ for something my muse likes about yours 🖤 for something my muse dislikes about yours 🎼 for a song that reminds me of our muses 🌹 for a moodboard about our muses 💛 for a moodboard about my muse ✉ for a written letter from my muse 💬 for my muse saying what they really think about yours ⭐️ (or multiple) for a headcanon about our muses 🍎 my muse will tell yours what they’re thankful for 🍵 my muse will reveal one of their biggest regrets ☎ for your muse’s info in my muses phone (name, ringtone, picture, last text received/sent) ☄️ for 2-4 songs that are always in their playlist 💥 for the game they’d destroy everyone else at 🌙 for the emoticon they’d use most often 🍂 for what they wanted to be when they grew up 🌈 for my muse’s favorite kind of weather ✔️ for a daydream my muse has had about/involving yours 💋 for how my muse would flirt with yours 🐑 for a nickname my muse calls yours

[smthngod-blog]

the majority of vincent's music library was made up of cheesy 80s songs with a hint of 90s, his most played songs were africa and cotton eye joe - all a perfect preface to come to the conclusion that he had no idea what fucking song this pub was playing. it mattered little when he pulled out the third and thus last soju bottle from under his jacket, smuggled into the place like an absolute professional. the other two had been drowned already, mixed with beer through exquisite skills, hard-earned at house parties throughout the country. vincent emptied out a beer bottle for each in their respective glass while shooting a glance in each direction, making sure there were enough people to block the view between their table and the bar. the soju bottle's lid was quickly screwed off, skillfully flicking it off with the edge of his palm before pouring a generous shot into each glass. the day he would stop showing off should never come. giving the bottom of the glass a fast snap with a spoon made the fizz rise, a trick he had acquired long ago. "get fucked," was his short but precise toast towards jaewon as he lifted his glass in the other's direction before drowning a few rich sips. / / @jcewons

[midsommars-deactivated20201109]

Dude (2018) Directed by Olivia Milch

[smthngod-blog]

vivcldi:

part  of  her  wanted  someone  to  want  her  back  so  much  it  ached.  she  needed  for  someone  to  need  her  back  as  if  it  was  the  only  way  she’d  ever  feel  truly  loved.  there  was  an  anxious  voice  inside  of  her  always  eating  her  up,  letting  her  know  just  what  everyone  had  always  told  her:  that  she  was  too  much,  that  she  scared  people  away.  it  told  her  the  exact  same  thing  would  happen  with  vincent,  and  the  day  that  door  closed  she’d  be  left  devastated. 

but  for  now  this  would  have  to  do.  she  would  live  with  his  snarky  comments  and  silent  appreciation  knowing  very  well  there  was  a  real  possibility  she’d  never  get  any  more  than  just  that.  she  could  be  content  with  that  too  after  all  as  long  as  he  was  part  of  her  life  somehow  —  at  least  she  could  fool  herself  into  thinking  this  would  be  enough.  she  knew  that  there  would  come  a  time  where  she  would  inevitably  ask  for  more  and  vincent  would  maybe  not  be  willing  to  give  it  to  her.  that  was  the  harsh  reality  she  refused  to  acknowledge  just  yet. 

she  smiled  at  him  despite  the  nickname,  and  that’s  when  she  realized  their  day  was  coming  to  an  end.  vincent  would  leave  and  tomorrow  would  see  another  attempt  from  the  girl  to  lure  the  male  out  with  her  yet  another  time.  she  wasn’t  ready  for  the  evening  to  turn  to  night  just  yet.  ❛ you .. ❜  she  began  hesitantly, voice gentle.  ❛ you  could  stay .. if  you  want  to. ❜

"stay?" his voice was louder than vincent intended it to be. looking at this hardly lit room he could almost hear the lull of a world eating itself from the inside out. that was outside and they were here. with their bare hands, greedy for affection and intimacy. they made it. a temporary refuge deep in the asterisk of their little empire. but it was theirs and only theirs. the only place they could lay their souls bare. why not sleep in a drunken stupor, pretend like anything outside of this bedroom didn't exist? he rose from the edge of mia's bed, stripping off his shoes with his toes before kicking them aside. the heatwave's nature predestined vincent to only wear a shirt anyway, even though jeans might not be the best sleeping attire. he wondered if he was going to be able to rest his mind in the first place with mia right beside him. the way mia's silhouette was being caught in the light. his whole body yearnd for her and yet he didn't give in, like a sickness he refused to treat. the fever of her. he slipped under the blanket, the bed sighing faintly under his weight. the closer he shuffled to her, the stronger the scent of her perfume and shampoo got, entering his system like a drug. he crashed gently into her, without a word. one arm wrapped around her waist, the other slithered into the space between her neck and the pillow, making her the little spoon with no intention to let go.

[smthngod-blog]

qrffin:

          MAYBE  THIS  WAS  ALL  THERE  WOULD  EVER  be and maybe, in this life, that would be enough. there was something so tragically beautiful about things that never quite were, and despite how close the boys were seated it felt as if there was an endless gap separating them, taunting them, a temptation griffin refused to fall into. this was vexation in a condensed form, and the boy didn’t know where to delegate the blame, if there was any to be delegated at all.

fingers itched to reach out and burn themselves even at the mere thought of touching vincent. griffin wanted to look at the other male, unashamed and without hesitation, but he prayed for affection and paid with longing — this was a game with no end and no winner. he wondered how far they’d be willing to go, like two predators eyeing one another for a weakness. a foolish, boyish part of griffin wished to be just that: a weak spot, a vulnerability, a loophole. he wanted to snake his way into vincent’s heart, but he knew not to make homes out of people — and he knew he could never allow himself to open up like that. still, as close as they were seated, he couldn’t help but entertain the thought.

«that’s just sad,» griffin muttered as his eyes fell upon the girl vincent had pointed out. «thanks for not ditching me,» he added half as a joke, sending the boy a rare genuine smile. 

vincent liked the blueprint of this life the way it was. where he could slip out unannounced, only he kept adjusting the room to his favor, hoping to remain. hoping nobody noticed him. he lived in vertigo between hunger to be seen and the vulnerability of exposure. who could feel him, see him? and yet, he stepped into another man's life and it touched him everywhere. griffin's presence announced itself in vibrant storms and an usual absurd anxiety, unearthing vincent from the life he was used to live. lifting him into a cold gust, to witness the color of the sky after rain ( something like turquoise, something like bruised glory ). eventually, vincent crumbled. he crumbled and his eyes searched for griffin's and he saw him. he saw silver and lightning and spring and the moon with his stars. it hit him all at once, the wave nearly drowned him and left him gasping for air, filling his lungs with the water that griffin was. maybe this was the closest they would ever come. just the right amount of truth they could bear. with words no one dared to speak. maybe this was love in its truest form. not to be reached but to be felt only to wither. undeniable and without place. "no problem," he said, not sure if he was joking or not. the ferris wheel continued its merciless motion until they came to a halt, maybe the highest point that could be reached. vincent decided to take in the view of his hometown, a rare occasion to be able to enjoy it from this position. "not too shabby, i guess."

[smthngod-blog]

vivcldi:

she  had  grown  used  to  his  odd  ways  of  showing  affection,  knowing  there  was  more  to  him  than  he  let  on.  but  even  if  she  had  never  cracked  his  code,  there  was  little  he  could  do  that  would  make  her  leave  his  side:  her  worst  habit  was  romanticizing  others,  making  them  something  unattainable  for  herself,  but  no  matter  what  high  regards  she  held  them  in  she  always  fooled  herself  into  thinking  she  stood  a  chance.  vincent  was  no  different,  but  everything  about  her  love  for  him  was  different  regardless.  it  wasn’t  something  easily  put  into  words,  but  with  him  she  felt  as  if  she  wasn’t  holding  on  because  she  was  scared  of  being  alone  —  she  was  holding  on  because  she  was  scared  of  being  without  him.

she  could  only  give  his  comment  a  sleepy  chuckle,  but  where  she’d  normally  fight  him  on  it  she  recognized  that  he  was  doing  her  a huge  favor  just  by  offering  alone.  eyes  closed,  mia  could  still  feel  every  turn  he  made  in  her  apartment  and  she  knew  when  they  had  reached  her  bedroom.  part  of  her  didn’t  want  to  let  go  —  the  familiar  scent  of  his  cologne  and  the  comfortable  warmth  of  his  body  being  a  better  blanket  than  the  one  she  found  herself  perched  on  top  of  just  a  moment  later.  wiggling  her  feet  out  of  her  shoes,  she  shot  vincent  a  grateful  look.  ❛ hey, vinny?  i  had  a  good  time  today,  thanks  for  coming  with  me. ❜

as gently and slowly as possible he lowered the sleepy girl onto her bed, the blanket giving in under her touch. shoes were sloppily stripped off of her feet, dropped onto the floor. not a care in the world, as always. more than once vincent had wondered when her facade was starting to crumble and yet, the good in mia persisted. relentless optimism. he pulled back the blanket for the girl to seek refugee in its comfort. with a small motion he turned on the dim nightstand lamp that dipped the room in a cozy light as he sat on the edge of her bed, ready to tug her in. it was tough to exactly pinpoint how doubt unfolded itself within the empire of vincent's mind. everyday he would wake up and pull seeds of hate out of his body; is it any wonder he was so distracted? and this, whatever was going on between the two of them, was a kind of distraction too. loneliness was the only space where vincent fully existed but simultaneously the one place he was fighting. against it all. and whenever his actions screamed abandon me - it's the only way i recognize love mia clung tighter, with more burning adoration than ever before and vincent didn't know what to make of it. either way, she looked like everything and more, illuminated by a light that would leave the golden hour shook, eyes so sleepy that they were balancing between the now and the world of dreams. in any other situation he would have judged her for the usage of the infamously hated nickname. for tonight, he cancelled all battles. "no problem, tiny one. i'm glad you did. i'll check for monsters in the closets on my way out, okay?"

[fykai1]

© carolinedee + do not edit

[smthngod-blog]

there was a very specific sound of the summer in st. clementine on a sunday night. it came from the veins of traffic jetting through the city, carried by the salty sea breeze. as always, he was just below it all. the hot sun beating on his face, flip flops slapping on that unforgiving concrete, the gas station AC rushing against his face. love in transit. lives in vignettes. and here he was again, dazed by the sounds of summer, caught up on the tragedy of having only one body. whenever he walked into cat's place on those sunday evenings, he felt unraveled within minutes. she split him right open to the beehive of hearts unknown and lives he'll never get to dream about. her parting hair, her svelte form, the dark eyes - all of it kicked him right back to that one year in akita, punched the air out of him longing for a better time. her laughter made him feel like a 12-year-old boy again, made his tongue slip into broken japanese. her presence was unbearably comforting, sometimes too reassuring for his own good. stepping outside and being reminded of reality made his stomach turn in agony. escapism in its finest form. today was particularly bad. he wanted to forget about the outside, feel like they were the only people on this godforsaken planet. he pulled two beers out of the freezer, cooled down by now. walking back into the living room he cracked one open and placed it onto the coffee table in front of cat. "what are you watching?" he asked, admitting he hadn't paid proper attention to whatever was running on the screen before the let himself drop onto her couch. / / @wrathbane

[smthngod-blog]

vivcldi:

everyone  told  her  not  to  sail  seas  when  she  was  better  off  on  land,  but  vincent  was  the  moon  and  she  was  the  tide  —  she  wasn’t  quite  sure  where  she  fit  in  without  him.  it  was  scary  and  concerning  to  say  the  least,  that  she  always  grew  so  attached  that  she  let  her  own  worth  be  determined  by  how  others  viewed  her.  but  time  had  made  her  know  vincent  as  something  soft  and  kind  and  gentle  despite  the  rugged  edges  and  sharp  words.  she  had  melted  into  him,  and  every  hope  and  dream  she  had  ever  carried  bled  into  him  little  by  little.  she  always  did  this:  she  cared,  unconditionally  and  without  compromise,  and  it  scared  everyone  away.  it  only  made  her  cling  on  tighter.

he  had  her  attention  now  as  a  tired  eyelid  opened  to  inspect  his  offer.  she  had  expected  him  to  nudge  her  awake  or  so,  but  instead  she  was  offered  to  be  carried  upstairs  —  if  he  could  only  hear  her  heartbeat  now.  ❛ mm, ❜  she  replied  somewhat  hesitantly,  but  still  she  decided  to  accept  his  invitation  and  she  wrapped  her  arms  around  him  carefully.  the  moment  he  had  lifted  her  from  the  carseat,  the  girl  rested  her  head  against  his  body. ❛ ‘m  heavy? ❜  she  asked,  tired  words  slurring  slightly.  only  with  him  did  she  ever  worry  she  was  a  burden  sometimes  —  literally  or  figuratively.

"yes, very." tired or not, vincent made sure to never miss an opportunity to showcase his odd ways of love. expressions that other would categorize as contempt were his means of affection. picking on her flaws, her silly habits, laughing at mishaps - it was a mere miracle mia hadn't fled his side long ago. somewhere deep within himself it was a mechanism to test her patience, her trust, her loyalty. something in the back of his head always urged vincent to push the people around him, see how long they stay only to say ha! i knew it! when they eventually left like he didn't force them do. the day mia would join them would be his doom. juggling mia while simultaneously locking his car and then opening the front door was no easy task but somehow, vincent managed. he sighed deeply at the thought of climbing up three floors, even though if mia was a fairy. that should cover his workout for the week. the found himself puffing ever so slightly when they finally reached the door to mia's place, jamming the keys inside the lock. she paid his trouble no mind as he felt the girl burying her face in his neck. the darkness inside proved to be no obstacle for him. he had been here too many times to get lost, spent too many evenings here to encounter any trouble. so instead of running into walls and door frames, he headed for the bedroom.

[smthngod-blog]

you see, vincent didn't know if he really believed in "mindfullness" or "being balanced". life was too fucking rich to remain balanced. if his heart wasn't breaking and his knuckles weren't hitting at every turn, he somehow felt like wasn't really listening. most days went through him like a shadow, like he couldn't hold onto them and their mindfulness for even an hour. but this one grasped him and it felt like it would never let go. all it took was his father's phone call, the words mother and church dropped like it didn't rip vincent apart over and over again. he thought it was selfish of the old man, selfish wanting to see his son step into holy halls again when he had shedded that image a long time ago. at first, it startled him, then it made him nervous, then angry. the most familiar feeling in the world, rage. the primordial emotion that sends heat into his veins, the oldest story he had known. god beware anyone who would cross him. a lot of things aligned that evening. first, he had to be properly upset. check. then the idiotic decision to go outside and pick up a pizza from his favorite pizza place, check. ultimately, the presence of another figure, check. it didn't take much to gain vincent's unwanted attention. in fact, it didn't take anything at all. maybe he imagined the funny look he had received, maybe he did actually get looked at. whatever the case was, vincent felt like fighting and was determined to get the fight he waas looking for. "problem?" he asked, leaning against his car that was parked in front of the pizza place, arms crossed like street belonged to him. / / @leemniscatus

[smthngod-blog]

twilightly:

deep violet or blood red? sunshine or moonlight? 80s music or 90s music? orchids or dahlias? garnet or ruby? moths or butterflies? aphrodite or athena? grapefruit or pomegranate? angel’s halo or devil’s horns? sirens or banshees? lorde or florence + the machine? the birth of venus or the starry night?

[mrwilliewonka]