#vanillacry

[epidoted-blog]

word. make it rain with that weekly allowance. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

they don’t call me Dope Estheim for nothing

[tragicifatum-blog]

"Your hair is falling out."

          ❛ eh–?  ❜ digits rose to run through darkened locks, a sense of fear waved over him– only to discover his style had remained the same.   ❛  thats a cruel joke to pull.  ❜

[lazuliss]

vanillacry:

“I’ll have t’ punish ‘ya!”

     ❝ Uh huh. I’m shaking in my boots. ❞ 

[nobodyclse-archived-blog]

;; yells about the rly nice blogs that just followed me

[lazuliss]

Lapis Lazuli

             ❛ Lapis Lazuli: Where ‘Home’ Is To My Muse

Home is not a place. Home is being in the presence of loved ones, of kin, of friends. Home is where he can allow those protective walls to drop, where he can express his true self. No judgement, no worries. Home is the embrace of his beloved after a long separation, within the laughter of a best friend, within in the smiles of his people.

The relationships forged throughout his young life are significant; they offer more comfort than any four walls may bring. More than the familiar smells of a physical home ( though, he does love that, too. ); it is the fond memories and people which construct his ‘ HOME ’. 

[lazuliss]

vanillacry:

Arms fold beneath her bosom, watching as the man shields the light and makes an attempt to fall back into slumber, but she pulls him back with her body weight atop his, soft whispers of sweet nothings and tender kisses along his nape. “Ten seconds.”

             ❝ Five minutes, then. ❞ 

      ANOTHER OBJECTION. He rolls to his belly now, face buried within the comfort of his pillow. No amount of persuasion would coax him from bed, not until those few minutes past. He’s tired and stubborn.