#soontobearose

[winchester-novak]

everyone read this rn!!

okay so somehow this post i made inspired someone to write a fic!?!? crazy right?? I am truly mind boggled

anyway, @soontobearose wrote this fic on ao3 titled Pslams for Sleeping Angels and it’s so good you guys have to read it!!

[soontobearose]

In my limited experience, I've come to the realization that people are the same, no matter where you are. They speak differently sometimes. Dress funny. But humanity is stubborn in its insistence to stay true to itself. Teenagers get drunk and make bad choices. Parents lose their temper. Girls and boys and boys and boys and girls and girls and adults still love each other in that stupidly passionate all-consuming way. Feelings have different words in different languages but they're still felt by everybody. I think that's what surprised me. But I think maybe my disappointment surprised me the most.

or maybe it wasn’t that people were the same, but that I was || s.c.(r.)c.

[soontobearose]

When it’s night in a big city, and you’re driving, all the lights seem to blur a bit as you pass. You can see the road in your headlights as it feeds itself underneath the car, feel the vibrations and the running concrete and the apparent endlessness of it all. Like if you can just keep your foot pressed against that pedal, you'll keep going forever. All around you there are cars and horns and humanity, but you're underwater. You're apart from it somehow, literally watching through a window. It's a constant hum in the background of your dream. The highway at night exists in another realm of consciousness that extends into infinity. It isn't a feeling, good or bad, it's a state of existence. A different kind of presence. For a little while, you can almost feel reality as it shifts around you.

I wonder if that’s what dying is like // s.c.(r.)c.

[soontobearose]

stop smiling at me, baby blues. i thought you were done teasing sincerity and kissing at air. look at me. i'm here. i'm breathing. i know because you're making me laugh. i wish you'd quit doing that. i wish you'd quit this - this talking to me thing. not if you're going to keep doing it like this. like i'm just a person to you. it's just that you - you're so much more than a person to me.

he dropped by to say hi the other day // s.c.(r.)c.

[soontobearose]

Because I am a princess in pearls and combat boots. Clothed in lace and leather. 
I will curl my hair and kiss you with poison pink lips, make it so you will never stop loving girls with pretty words and thick skin. You will respect me for the walking contradiction that I am, for the girl I am, for the woman I am. 
And when you’ve forgotten my love, you will remember my passion. You will never say “I’m sorry” for the good. 
You will redefine “the good.” 
After me, you will be a different you.
Because I am a rattlesnake, whiplash, honest soul, brutal truth, soft heart, big mind, open road, closed book, storyteller, miracle, music, laughter, poison pink lips, and love, love, love.

Revival Series || s.c.(r.)c.

[soontobearose]

God, I don’t care that he’s an asshole because he’s a good guy. He’s so good. And every person he meets wants to love him or wants to be him. I wish I could say it isn’t possible for me to care less but he laughs and I swear I fucking melt. Lord, he laughs and… He laughs like angels sing. This ocean-eyed, blue skies boy. I have to stop imagining black hair between my fingers because when he puts his head in my lap I never want to move again. He makes me want to dance. He makes me want to sin. He makes me want him. Want him. And he laughs.

Why I’m An Idiot: A Thesis || s.c.(r.)c.

[soontobearose]

It’s a joke, actually. All the girls who’ve loved him before laugh about it over shared stories of relationships that never were with a boy they will never have. She listens to it all with the stubborn will of a kid who’s read too many books— she’s convinced herself her life will be the perfect plotline. The kind of girl who’s so busy laughing at the joke that she forgets to listen for the punchline.

It's hard to be jealous because misery likes company || s.c.(r.)c.

[soontobearose]

I like honey bee boys. Mouths sweet with syrup, words coated sugar. Terrified to touch them, but, God, they are beautiful. Make beautiful things. Flit from flower to flower, green is the color envy, Mama’s boys, light laugh. Buzzing buzzing buzzing. Always white-noise. Know they’re there. Funny honey.

I have a type || s.c.(r.)c.