#absolutely i am

[youokaybucky]

Today I'm thinking about Callum wearing this jumper/sweater in The Only Living Boy In New York (2017)

[borrowing-at-midknight]

You Look Like Hell

You knew better than to leave the walls and go outside in the winter. Despite being hotter than balls the rest of the year, Texas managed to get surprisingly freezing during the couple months it takes a break from acting like one giant oven. When you’d felt how cold it was, you should've turned back. But no, of course not. You just had to get what you wanted. It could've waited, the repairs you wanted to work on weren't urgent, but you're stubborn so of course you didn't wait. Now, you were paying the price.

Over the past five days, it's been getting harder and harder to breathe. It’s not your chest that hurts, thankfully, but your throat and head are killing you. You can't stop coughing. You wish you could, but every time you inhale, your throat dries up and forces you into another coughing fit. The few lozenges that were stashed away for this occasion had been used up the first day and a half of this torture.

You don't know what to do anymore. You can't get to sleep, everything hurts, there's no more supplies for this.

You need Schlatt.

Usually, you avoid asking Schlatt for help. It's not that you don't get along with him, quite the opposite. He leaves things out on the counter for you, you take them, and both of you pretend it doesn't happen. He'll never say it, but he enjoys having you around. If he didn't, you doubt he would’ve offered to bring you with him when he moved south. You'd gotten too accustomed to his extra help back in New York to decline that proposition.

When you eventually force yourself to get out of your bed and make the journey to the kitchen, you try to use the old memories of you and Schlatt to distract you on the way.

You hug your blanket around yourself tightly, too miserable to care about it dragging behind you. Twenty grueling minutes later, you can see the light pouring into the wall’s tunnel. You sigh, sending yourself into another coughing fit, before dredging along the last short distance left. Hobbling out onto the counter, you hear the fridge close and Schlatt scoff, clearly catching sight of you.

“Fuck’s wrong with you?”

You would've laughed if it wouldn't induce more coughing. “Snow.” Apparently speaking hurts as well.

“Snow, huh? That clearly worked out well for you. Nice going.”

As your eyes adjust to the light, you see him looming over you. His hands are planted a foot away on either side, arms leading up, up, up to his face which is nearly straight above you. To save the energy, you carefully slump onto your back and wrap your blanket around you. “Are you gonna help or not?” You croak.

Schlatt’s lips curl into a sly grin. “Not with that attitude. Can't a man get some appreciation around here?” Despite his words, he's already moving away from you and begun digging through the medicine cabinet.

Gratefully, you accept a freshly shattered lozenge, immediately popping a piece into your mouth for a little bit of sweet relief.

“You look like hell, have you had any DayQuil today?”

You flop your head side to side. “Ran out yesterday. Didn't have any NyQuil to begin with.”

Schlatt sighs as he leans down to carefully measure a miniscule amount of medicine into a thimble. “You know, you should use my help more often. I don't like the thought of you going without essentials.” He places the thimble down next to you, then turns to the fridge and pulls out some orange juice.

“Aw, does Schlatt care for the itsy bitsy-” Your sentence is interrupted by a coughing fit due to your attempt at sitting up.

“Get fucked.” Schlatt chuckles as he pours a shot glass of juice and sets it beside the thimble, which he nudges closer to you. He leans on the counter, arms crossed. “I'm just saying. I don't get why you insist on taking care of yourself. It's gotta be dangerous, right?”

You take the thimble and take a big gulp of it, setting it aside quickly so you can chase it with the OJ. “Of course it's dangerous, but I've been doing this my whole life. I just… I know how busy you are. You don't gotta worry about me, big man.”

“I'd worry about you less if you weren't on your own.” He mumbles.

“I'll tell you what. I'll stay out here until I'm better, and then we'll see about me hanging out out here more often.”

Schlatt tries to suppress his smile from taking over his face, but the way his eyes light up betrays his cool demeanor. “Alright, it's a deal. C'mon, I'll get you set up in my room.”

He stands up to his full height, a movement that you doubt you'll ever get used to, as it sends shivers down your spine. His massive hand settles next to you. Not wanting to keep him waiting, you drape your blanket over you like a cape, push yourself to your feet, and waddle your way over to his open palm. You don't have to look up to know there's a smirk plastered on Schlatt’s face as you sit cross legged in the center of his hand.

“Ready?”

“Never am.”

Schlatt chuckles and curls his thumb into his palm to give you a bit more security, then lifts his hand up to his chest and starts walking. “You know I'd never drop you.” This close to his chest, his words rumble around you. It's… surprisingly comforting.

“First time we met you covered me with a red solo cup.” You joke, a smile growing on your face. “I don't know jack shit when it comes to you.”

“Hey, that was years ago. I didn't know what you were.”

“You could've at least used an empty cup.”

“It wasn't even that much! I wasted my Kool-aid on you, and I had to clean it up after. I feel like I’m definitely the one who’s been wronged here.” He snickers as he enters his bedroom and reaches into his closet to pull out a long empty shoe box.

“So sorry for making you dump your drink on me, I'll do better next time.” You roll your eyes.

Schlatt drops the box onto his bed, then suddenly pinches you between his thumb and index finger in order to lift you and place you on his pillow. Your heart drops to your feet and you gasp. You don't usually mind, as it makes things quicker, but he enjoys catching you off guard with it as much as he can. As expected, he's trying to suppress a grin.

“Douchebag.”

As if on cue, he’s already pulled a box cutter from his bedside drawer and clicks it open, pointing it at you first. “Watch your mouth, bitch.” He grins and grabs the shoebox, sinking the blade into the side of it. You watch curiously as he works.

It doesn't take more than a few seconds before he turns the box to show you what seems to be a you-sized doorway carved into the side. He looks proud. “So that the cats can't get to you.”

You smile sleepily. “Good thinking… thank you.”

“Alright, let's get you some rest, huh?” Schlatt takes a moment to look around the room for something to use as bedding, and spots a clean washcloth. He grabs it, folds it in half twice, and opens the shoebox to place it in the corner before turning to scoop you up from his pillow. “I swear I'll work on a better setup, but it'll do for now, eh?” He allows you to scoot off of his hand on your own this time.

When you lay down on the cloth, you can't help but notice how this is already far better than your matchbox setup inside the walls, padded with tissue that you did your best to replace once a month. It must be evident on your face, because Schlatt chuckles and places the lid back on the box.

“I'll take that as a yes.” His voice may be muffled by the box, but it's still all enveloping. “If you want the lid off during the night I can keep the cats out of the room, but only because you're sick. Don't start thinkin’ you're above Jambo, pipsqueak.”

“I would never.” You're already drifting off, sprawled out across the soft, plush cloth.

You can hear him smiling as he speaks, walking out of the room. “Sweet dreams, idiot.”

[maranull]

big friend spotted

[notesbyaphrodite]

(Found this hilarious extension of the "I heard today is telemachus's birthday" thing and I needed to share it)

ooc • GIGGLING I love this so much

but also the start reminds me so much of Penelope (the musical) when the suitors are like

“we love the way the chords ring in the great hall”

[freckledsweetpea]

am I going to spend my whole weekend playing WoW while couch rotting?

[pinkmoonmp3]

via niall.breen.comics

[dravenxivuk]

[stabbynunchuckss]

Orange 🧡🧡🧡

>:3

[daylighteclipsed]

ENTRY LEVEL MEANS NO EXPERIENCE. IT MEANS NO PORTFOLIO OF RELEVANT SAMPLES. ENTRY LEVEL IS ENTRY LEVEL

[sunnylolli]

Something, something, what if it all went really wrong and they were forced to speed-run the brotherly bonding

[muffinlance]

My baby daughter got her adorable puffin-print dress absolutely CAKED in mud crawling around the yard and my first thought was "oh no her beautiful dress"

And my second thought was "oh huh it really WOULD be easy to unconsciously steer her away from playing in the dirt. Unlike my son, whose outfits are usually some kind of solid dark easily washed pants plus a shirt that doesn't trail in the dirt like a dress does."

Anyway something something gender roles start getting shoved on kids from literal birth, but with a little time to think about things, YOU TOO can let your children of any gender absolutely destroy their clothes in the dirt pit they're digging in your garden

[mambodork]

This is definitely how it went down

[singswan-springswan]

In a happy world where Jason is legally resurrected and gets to go to college like he's always dreamed of

[playbarbies]

𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫  𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞  𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫  𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧  𝐭𝐨  𝐭𝐡𝐞  𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠,  𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩  𝐡𝐚𝐝  𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧  𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠  𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞  𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧  𝐚  𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐲  𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞  𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝  𝐧𝐨𝐭  𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐝.  sleep,  now,  was  to  justine  what  the  ballgowns  displayed  in  the  windows  of  shops  were  to  the  peasant  folk.  it  was  a  nice  idea,  one  that  best  be  kept  from  daydreaming  about  for  it  would  do  nothing  but  rip  away  a  luxury  that,  for  the  first  time  in  justine’s  life,  no  amount  of  coin  could  purchase.  a  luxury  that,  for  the  first  time  in  her  life,  held  a  price  tag  she  would  never  be  able  to  pay.  

because  there  was  a  price.   all  things  come  with  a  price.  

and  each  time  temptation  had  driven  justine’s  aching  heart  to  hold  the  price  tag  of  rest  in  its  trembling  fingers,  it  is  always  let  go  with  haste  at  the  visible  reminder  of  its  price.  for  the  price  was  one  justine  would  never  pay,  one  she  would  never  allow  lucinda  nor  any  man  nor  creature  to  ever  pay.  

𝖿𝗈𝗋  𝗍𝗁𝖾  𝗉𝗋𝗂𝖼𝖾  𝗈𝖿  𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉  𝗐𝖺𝗌  𝗁𝖾𝗋  𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗋  𝗅𝗎𝖼𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖺,  𝖺𝗇𝖽  𝗂𝗍  𝗐𝖺𝗌  𝖺  𝗉𝗋𝗂𝖼𝖾  𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝖾  𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽  𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋  𝗉𝖺𝗒  - 𝗈𝗇𝖾  𝗌𝗁𝖾  𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽  𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋  𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐  𝗅𝗎𝖼𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖺  𝗇𝗈𝗋  𝖺𝗇𝗒  𝗆𝖺𝗇  𝗈𝗋  𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾  𝗍𝗈  𝗉𝖺𝗒  𝖿𝗈𝗋.

not  again,  not  ever  again.

there  was  a  tiredness  that  ate  away  at  the  marrow  of  her  bones. 𝙞𝙩  𝙬𝙖𝙨  𝙤𝙣𝙚  𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩  𝙗𝙚𝙘𝙠𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙙  𝙝𝙚𝙧  𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝  𝙖  𝙘𝙪𝙧𝙡  𝙤𝙛  𝙞𝙩𝙨  𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧  𝙩𝙝𝙚  𝙨𝙖𝙢𝙚  𝙬𝙖𝙮  ��𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧  𝙖𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨  𝙝𝙖𝙙  𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧  𝙨𝙝𝙚  𝙖𝙣𝙙  𝙡𝙪𝙘𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙖  𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚  𝙖  𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚  𝙩𝙤𝙤  𝙧𝙖𝙢𝙗𝙪𝙣𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨  𝙖𝙩  𝙜𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨  𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠  𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣  𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮  𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚  𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙣.  exhaustion  stalked  her  like  a  troll  hunter  —  ever  the  patient  predator.  though  each  time  it  threatened  to  pounce,  to  strike,  justine  was  able  to  avoid  its  clutches  with  a  rapid  shake  of  her  head  or  (  another  )  stroll  around  the  cabin’s  perimeters.  

@sillygorl  had  noticed.  of  course  she  had  noticed.  she  was  sharp,  her  little  sister.  rather  perceptive  too,  more  so  than  most  give  her  credit  for  (  or  perhaps,  it  was  that  justine  was  not  as  skilled  a  thespian  as  she  had  given  herself  credit  for  )  and  so  now  here  lucinda  was,  pleading  with  her  to  rest  with  a  similar  fervor  to  the  beggars  in  the  street.  ᴊᴜꜱᴛɪɴᴇ  ꜱʜᴀᴋᴇꜱ  ʜᴇʀ  ʜᴇᴀᴅ  ʙᴏᴛʜ  ᴛᴏ  ᴀʀɢᴜᴇ  ᴀɴᴅ  ᴛᴏ  ᴄʜᴀꜱᴇ  ᴀᴡᴀʏ  ꜰᴀᴛɪɢᴜᴇ  ᴀꜱ  ɪꜰ  ɪᴛ  ᴡᴇʀᴇ  ᴀ  ᴍᴏᴜꜱᴇ  ᴄʜᴀꜱᴇᴅ  ꜰʀᴏᴍ  ᴏᴜᴛ  ᴀ  ꜱʜᴏᴘ  ʙʏ  ᴛʜᴇ  ᴋᴇᴇᴘᴇʀꜱ  ʙʀᴏᴏᴍ,  

❛  i  can’t  trust  it,  lucy.  i  can’t  risk  something  happening  to  you.  ❜  she  says.  her  gaze  is  locked  on  lucinda’s  face,  not  even  blinking  for  fear  that,  once  again,  lucinda  would  be  taken  from  her  in  the  blink  of  an  eye.  ❛  i  know  our  dear  ella  is  now  queen  and  the  demeanor  of  the  common  folk  has  shifted  to  something  lighter,  kinder,  but  i  cannot  trust  in  any  happily  ever  after.  i  cannot  trust  myself  to  allow  my  guard  down,  for  that  was  the  very  reason  you  —  ❜  𝒂  𝒔𝒐𝒃  𝒂𝒎𝒃𝒖𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒔  𝒉𝒆𝒓  𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔,  𝒔𝒍𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒏𝒈  𝒐𝒇𝒇  𝒕𝒉𝒆  𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓  𝒐𝒇  𝒉𝒆𝒓  𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆  𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆  𝒂  𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔  𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅.  justine  quickly  bows  her  head  so  that  her  tears,  further  evidence  of  her  fear  and  weakness,  are  not  visible  to  the  jury  of  lucinda’s  gaze.  

justine  shrinks  into  herself  then.  head  low,  she  hides  behind  the  curtain  of  her  hair  akin  to  lucinda  hiding  behind  the  velvet  curtains  of  the  living  quarters  whenever  they  would  play  hide  from  the  troll-hunter.  𝖻𝗎𝗍  𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇  𝗁𝗂𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀  𝖻𝖾𝗇𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁  𝗁𝖾𝗋  𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗇𝖽𝖾  𝗅𝗈𝖼𝗄𝗌  𝗍𝗁𝖾  𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀  𝗈𝖿  𝗁𝖾𝗋  𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇  𝖺𝗇𝖽  𝗍𝗁𝖾  𝗊𝗎𝖺𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀  𝗈𝖿  𝗁𝖾𝗋  𝗅𝗂𝗉  𝗀𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗌  𝗁𝖾𝗋  𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒  —  𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗐  𝗍𝗁𝖾  𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽𝗌  𝗈𝖿  𝗀𝗂𝗀𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀  𝖺𝗇𝖽  𝗍𝗁𝖾  𝗌𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍  𝗈𝖿  𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾  𝗍𝗈𝖾𝗌  𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀  𝗈𝗎𝗍  𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆  𝖻𝖾𝗇𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁  𝗍𝗁𝖾  𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗇  𝗁𝖺𝖽  𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌  𝗁𝖺𝖽  𝗅𝗎𝖼𝗒.  justine  wraps  her  arms  around  herself,  as  though  it  would  be  enough  to  hold  the  broken  pieces  of  herself  together.  ❛  i  can’t  let  anything  harm  you  again  lucy.  i  won’t  allow  anything  to  happen  to  you.  not  again,  not  ever  again.  ❜

[clownsuu]

God I love the insane amounts of d r i p Stanley just casually wears

[pinkmoonmp3]