Throne of Glass Dust Jackets
Artist: @starscrapers for @thedustyshop
Mike Driver

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@soledwardzon
Throne of Glass Dust Jackets
Artist: @starscrapers for @thedustyshop
They are his ghosts. It has never quite occurred to him before, just how young his parents had been when they died. He can count the years between them, now, on one hand. If this were not his final day, he would be eighteen in a mere three months, and then only three years would separate them. One day, he might have grown older than them. Older, even, than Sirius or Remus, who is now immortalized in time as well. Once he, too, is dead, though, they will stop following him. They will not be able to haunt him anymore, will not be able to keep him up at night drenched in his own sweat, wondering what went so wrong with him for everyone who dares to love him to suffer quite so much as they have, as they do. | x
voldemort was in his late 70s by the final battle so hunting him and his horcruxes down and killing him was actually elder abuse
A. M. V.
These spot the difference games are getting really difficult
5sos x Internet 6
Ashton: So...
Calum:
(✩ ์ ᴗ ์✩)
in and out of focus moments that i keep something for the pain and something so i sleep won't you comfort me? warm the air that i breathe visceral in doses hiding in the seams standing on the sun and i don't feel a thing won't you comfort me? take the fear i don't need
i wake up every morning with the years ticking by i'm missing all these memories, maybe they were never mine i feel the walls are closing i'm running out of time i think i missed the gun at the starting line
tell me, am i broken? i can never leave biting on my tongue and checking if it bleeds oh, is it lost on me? all the things i believe
something like an omen i can never keep moving on and on, so very bittersweet is it lost on me? all the things i don't need
i wake up every morning with the years ticking by i'm missing all these memories, maybe they were never mine i feel the walls are closing i'm running out of time i think i missed the gun at the starting line
take me alive make me a liar take me alive don't look away until it's gone til it's gone
take me alive make me a liar take me alive don't look away until it's gone til it's gone
i wake up every morning with the years ticking by i'm missing all these memories, maybe they were never mine i feel the walls are closing i'm running out of time i think i missed the gun at the starting line
take me alive make me a liar take me alive don't look away until it's gone til it's gone
take me alive make me a liar take me alive don't look away until it's gone til it's gone
“…bye.”
Katerina Marchenko on Etsy
sunshine acoustic boys *:・☼
we get so disconnected ‧₊˚✧
half the time being a writer is like
“fuck all the little details, i’m doing this for fun and i don’t owe anyone anything! hell yeah!”
and then the other half is like
“okay so this character is a thief so i’m going to do hours of research on how professional thieves operate because otherwise maybe a real thief will read this and laugh at me for not knowing how thieving works and then they’ll show it to all their thief friends and i will be the laughingstock of the thief community and that would be so embarrassing for me!!!!!!!!”
y’all (white ppl) should be supporting and advocating for bipoc all the time not just when we’re being violently targeted and it manages to make it to mainstream media. u can always be learning more i promise lmao and it should be a constant effort. updating google doc | thread of resources | ways to help/mental health resources | how you can act carrd
“Unsteady”
(Ashton Irwin X fem!Reader || Angst)
Summary: Based on the song “Unsteady” by X Ambassadors. You and you husband Ashton, got into an accident. As the months pass, Ashton is starting to lose hope.
Warnings: ANGST, mentions of Drunk Driving, hospitals, coma, accidents (kinda explicit) panick attack, a lot of crying, swear words, death, blood, violence, overall sadness, bad English (not my first language, my apologies)
Word Count: 3.9k
A/N: here I am with another Ashton Angst. Hope you like it 🦋 and remember that reblogs and likes always help and feedback and comments are always welcome! I would love to hear your thoughts 💙 You can check my other works HERE.
”Hold
Hold on
Hold on to me
‘Cause I’m a little unsteady
A little unsteady”
‘Her hand is too cold’ Ashton thought ‘She must be very cold’
You were lying in the hospital bed, unfazed. Ashton knew you couldn’t feel anything, at least that’s what the doctors told him. But he couldn’t help but wonder if you were cold. If you could feel your skin becoming more like ice every second but were unable to ask for a blanket.
He would give you the sun if you asked.
But you couldn’t.
Ashton hasn’t heard your voice in over three months, and damn, how he missed it. He misses you, all of you. He often wondered what he’d do if when you open your eyes. Would he cry? Kiss you? Pass out? He didn’t know. All he knew is that he’ll be the happiest man on earth once you did.
But your hands were cold against his. Your body numb in the bed. And he was by your side, unmoving.
This is just something inspired by Calum’s Instagram story — I thought him playing piano had Sunday afternoon vibes but then I realised it was Monday and somehow this happened so... enjoy!
Monday’s suck.
Or at least that’s what you’ve been told by everyone your whole life — seeming to be an unwritten rule in society that the first day of the week, after the weekend, is a drag for everyone. And for a long while, it felt that way for you too — Monday would roll around and you’d wake up wanting to spend a little longer getting more sleep.
Yet somehow, that had changed as soon as Calum entered your life.
Every week felt a little easier; each day got more enjoyable with every moment you spent getting to know him. They got even better once you started staying at his house. His bed felt like a safe haven, and you wonder how you ever slept before it was next to him.
“How did you get in here?” You murmur to the small dog curled up on the edge of the bed, fur tickling your legs. The sheets are warm on your skin as you wake up slowly, realising you’re alone in the room — except from Duke. Calum’s side of the bed is deserted, the pillow crinkled from when he had laid there some hours ago. Waking up alone felt a little easier, even just knowing that he was in the next room. “Where’s your pops?”