coffee addicted

And that wasn't done on purpose just sort of how it ended up, but Jake recently got an injury so they put him on a Different boat just for a little bit (a sit in the wheelhouse and scout type of boat, instead of the main fishing one) and he only got back to my dad's ship today and he was apparently like Shaking. He was Traumatised.

Dad said Jake kept pulling him aside and going "They were all yelling on there, but in a MEAN way" "They didn't clean... Like at ALL"

Jake experienced what a boat full of old school Aussie fisherman is like. That is the norm Jake. You just happened to be on the all Island boy boat on your first go out. "It was time for dinner and they had FROZEN nuggets" Jake that's what they have on ships that are out at sea for months at a time.

On my dad's boat they are eating fresh fish and coconut milk Ceviche. They're grilling steaks on an open bbq on the deck that probably is not regulation. All the guys have their own special knives to prepare sashimi every couple days. Everyone is happily doing their own work so they can clock out early and set up a movie on the deck. Jake did you genuinely believe that's what every boat was doing.

They will be safe. It doesn't matter who else or what else burns as long as They will be safe.

I will be safe. The hunger and the cold will never touch me again.

Fuck any bitch who's prettier(/cooler/better-liked/better at making dumplings) than me.

Yes, Master

Love me. Love me. Love me. Love me. LOVE ME!

I know the terrible things these so-called "heroes" will do if I don't stop them (<- is absolutely wrong)

I don't want a better future, I want a better past!

caspeter - the subway

last night's mascara - caspeter

They say that his hair is spun from the purest gold from the holy lands of the Emperor Beyond the Sea, that his eyes are a brighter, more potent blue than any sapphire ever mined and polished, that his lips are soft and pink like the first rosebud of True Spring. They whisper of the ribbons and flowers woven into his hair and the delicate golden crown on an equally golden head, of the gentle smiles that curl over his plush lips and the crinkles around his eyes when he laughs loud and joyful.

They talk of his beauty in reverent tones, sing praises and erect shrines to honour him, and they call him Magnificent.

They don't speak of how the roses and ribbons in his hair are the exact colour of spilled blood, dark red like the paint he smears across his eyes when riding to war. They don't speak of how his gaze carries the weight of the Great Ocean— a vast, open, endless sea that swallows everything in its path, ruthless and without mercy. They don't speak of how his lips are bitten and chapped, curved up into smiles that should appear soft but are more a baring of sharp fangs teeth than anything else. They don't speak of his battle cries, loud enough to make the very earth beneath their feet tremble.

They deliberately don't speak of how Beauty is sometimes described as Terrifying, how Angels are feared by all that lay eyes upon them, about how Celestials are the farthest from Human one can get without losing the human form.