not me romanticising back and hip pain because of remus mf lupin
being mysterious or hard to read or whatever is all complete shit. nobody cares abt u enough to be on their sherlock shit and try to get in to your mind or heart. nobody is wondering nobody is curious just go ahead and be normal
Ah shit we wrote your boyfriend into a concept album. Yeah, sorry. He’s battling his inner demons in musical verse.
the way that I try to be so artsy and cool but the reality is that i’m just a fucking loser
— I must learn to be content with being happier than I deserve.
actually no, we're not "dating". we're bound together for infinity. like the stars. so, fuck you, actually.
THIS IS WHAT I HAVE BEEN LOOKING FOR
family line
his curls (in modern au's he's my fan cast)
family line
also found heaven is very sirius coded
family line
"ch- cherry hair, so super bowie" SIRIUS BLACK HELLO
also did i mention family line?
'asexuality isn't a real sexuality because it's the lack of sexuality' That's like saying black isn't a real colour.
In relation to lightwaves, black is the lack of colour. But have you noticed that black is still categorised as a colour? 0 colour is a valid category of colour. White is a colour too, despite being all the colours. Just like how pansexuality is a valid sexuality. Also go fuck yourself
you think there’s a film executive out there somewhere sitting in a dimly lit room with a cigarette between his teeth staring at the goncharov tweet his niece sent him thinking like…”what if we just..what if we just fuckin did it”
weirdest part about being an artist (and, to an extent, a writer too) is feeling like. shameful that you aren't creating massive pieces of art. how dare i not line and color and shade every drawing. how dare i only draw two poses. how dare i only write 1k words. how dare i not write an entire book. how dare i