the muse in the back of my mind

So, it is a truth universally acknowledged that ROSY SHAWN IS MY NUMBER ONE SHAWN. It’s like my tagline. My motto. My life’s philosophy. Now, this does not mean I don’t hate him for it. Because JUST LOOK AT HIM. Those pink cheeks make me feel things that one at my advanced age should not feel. 

I mean…. 

COME ON.

THIS

BOY

DOESN’T

(A bonus backwards hat….fuck you, Mendes)

CARE

ABOUT

MY

FEELINGS.

(My beloved most hated lazy eye…and just…lower…I…I’m ruined)

HE

ONLY

CARES

(I want to squeeze his face)

ABOUT

WRECKING

(Peep the fucking chest hair AND the bicep) 

US

ALL

WITH

HIS

(Look at how goofy he is, I want to kiss punch him)

FACE.

(Even blurry, he’s fucking hot…and DON’T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THE WHITE HENLEY IT NEEDS ITS OWN HATE POST)

How the fuck does he make redness sexy? If redness were actually sexy I would be fucking hot shit BUT NOOOOOOO. Only Shawn gets to be rosy and sexy because his face was carved from marble blessed by the Holy Trinity. We’re all doomed. Help me. At least these aren’t gifs because…

…we’d all be dead.