#hi ..

[roadkillbunnygirl]

bunny and crow skulls from my collection ♡

[sleepinginmygrave]

hi tumblr

[sapphokisses]

heard y'all like vampire femmes?

[awek-s]

adding to the angel debate on my own blog so as to not start a fight but to be quite honest his personality and character charisma coming out more on a spin off show really doesn’t cancel out the pedophilia and sexual abuse he engages in in his day to day life as a human and subsequent vampire so it doesn’t add to the discussion of his likability but that may just be me idk

[lichrelly]

cant believe double texts are even a thing bcs like.. id send u 18 consecutive texts of me talking weird shit if i love u enough

[medusacomplex]

continued from [ x ]

love is a garden ––  theirs was of eden, and though she'd have loved to consider herself eve (carefree in a sense, albeit complicit and chastised, coated in unholy blame), she was all too aware now of her role as the serpent, conniving and goading, chasing steve into a corner of her own making and forcing his teeth to sink deep into a liar's fruit. she hadn't considered it until now, or perhaps she'd staved off the feeling, but it hits her with a certain clang, her heart dropping to the pit of her stomach and turning over on itself. she feels this gnawing sort of guilt, worse than when she'd left chicago and her friends behind, worse than when she'd seen a letter from her brother and left it intentionally unread on the kitchen counter. or perhaps it was amalgamation. the experiences, these silly, horrifying, selfish choices, all stacking one on top of another ––  she feels she could throw up right there on steve's pretty hardwood floors, but she stops herself.

a flinch as he speaks, her wince falling on the word "dead". “ ... ” she opens her mouth to respond, but closes it nearly instantaneously –  what is there to say? i'm sorry? there was nothing of substance to be thrown out into this awkward, tense space between them that could even hope to mend the wound. as he finishes speaking, she finds herself facing paralysis, only mirroring his breathing, only staring back at him, forcing herself not to look away for as long as possible until she no longer can face it, and in what she feels suddenly too aware of as a selfish act, she buries her gaze, shooting it down towards the floor. an embarrassment. she only hears his footsteps recede and the door slam shut, his exasperation just on the other side of the wall, and she feels the hot sting of tears begin to well.

with a sharp inhale, she takes her palm and slides it across her eyes, wiping away the vulnerable display for taking an assertive step forward and pulling herself closer to the door. she lingers there, for a moment, before turning away, then turning back, and away again. she could leave. she could take her bag and wait for night to fall, jet out the fire escape and be two states' length away from here in the matter of a few hours.

it all comes down to this silly, awful inclination: i don't want to.

she turns back, facing the door again, and she brings her palm gently to rest on it. she still can't find the words in her throat to force out, as if to say his name aloud might make the building shake and come down around them. with a furrow of her brow, a frown, a sliding of her hand downwards, she turns back away from the door. she leans backwards, letting her body slump down to the floor, sitting now with her knees drawn up to her chest and her chin resting atop them. eyes focus on her hands, her fingers squeezing the skin between her thumb and index finger so hard that it makes her wince. she waits, for steve or for her own words, she's not sure, but she waits.

[everyjedi]

              i    am    :         every   jedi  . . .          by  róisín.   divergent.