Sylvia Plath, from The Unabridged Journals
Jules of Nature
Keni
Misplaced Lens Cap

⁂
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Sade Olutola
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
RMH
Three Goblin Art
Show & Tell

Andulka
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
todays bird
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
will byers stan first human second
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Czechia

seen from United States
seen from Sweden
seen from Bulgaria

seen from Algeria
seen from Malaysia
seen from Netherlands

seen from Azerbaijan
seen from Malaysia

seen from Thailand

seen from United States
@bygcnes
Sylvia Plath, from The Unabridged Journals

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evercftres:
𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚕𝚊. ( @bygcnes )
there was a charged feeling in the air as dani walked to the flower shop, hand loosely resting over her knives as chocolate hues darted around the darkened streets. it wasn’t quite time for the hunt, wouldn’t be for another half an hour yet the hunter wouldn’t put it passed some barely hanging onto their control to attack before then. ‘ hey angela ! ’ the tinkling of the bell above the door announced her presence as much as her greeting. ‘ i just came to see if you wanted some company walking home. ’ she takes a couple of steps into the shop, brows furrowing once she catches sight of her friend. ‘ you okay ? you like like you’re about to keel over. ’
in her half - human mind , michael scott’s ‘ this is the worst ’ from season three episode seven is on a seemingly never ending loop as she feels the symptoms of the change . the rest of her brain on the other hand , was beginning to turn into werewolf mush . she tries to stare at her hands , trying to trace her human fingers , willing her body to stay unchanged . at the sound of the bell and the subsequent nauseous wave of familiarity , angela shuts her eyes tightly . the world really did seem to have it out for her tonight . “ uh , thanks dani . thanks but um , i think i’ll walk uh … ” she feels sweat beginning to crown her forehead . “ — oh yeah ! no don’t worry . ” she tries to wave a hand dismissively , “ i think … ” she grasps at her apron , trying to untie it from the back , “ i think it must be the .. uh , ” her fingers fumble at the knot and her vision begins to BLUR . “ must be the weather — or pregnancy , ” she manages to half snort / half laugh . “ you should um … ” she lets out a sigh of relief as she finally gets the knot undone , “ go on without me . ” she tries to plaster on a smile , tugging her apron off and letting it fall to the floor before trying to busy her hands with a bouquet to avoid the other’s gaze .
“—but her eyes were so withdrawn and lonely—”
— Jean Rhys, Wide Sargasso Sea (via antigonick)

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