ᵃᶤ ˡᵃᶤᵏ ＯＫＴＥＩＶＩＡ ᵎ

                  it takes but a mere second for palms to find the curvature of her waist & FORCEFULLY ( yet, making sure to remain gentle in his manner ) push her over onto the empty cushion at his side. not once does his gaze falter from the television screen. she’s interrupting his movie. ❛ i thought you were leaving. ❜

❛the tulips are too red in the first place, they hurt me. even through the gift paper i could hear them breathe lightly, through their white swaddlings, like an awful baby. their redness talks to my wound, it corresponds. they are subtle: they seem to float, though they weigh me down, upsetting me with their sudden tongues and their color, a dozen red lead sinkers round my neck. nobody watched me before, now i am watched. the tulips turn to me, and the window behind me where once a day the light slowly widens and slowly thins, and I see myself, flat, ridiculous, a cut-paper shadow between the eye of the sun and the eyes of the tulips, and i have no face, i have wanted to efface myself. the vivid tulips eat my oxygen.❜

Song at the end of the Season 2 finale of The 100

"Octavia, get out of the water!"

- Jason Rothenberg (x)

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Patrick Ness, More Than This

Not so fast, Pocahontas.

Hey, spacewalker!