So Far My Closet Consists Of Sweatpants, 3 Pair Of Black Leggings, And Plain T-shirts. My Fashion Could

So far my closet consists of sweatpants, 3 pair of black leggings, and plain t-shirts. My fashion could be better but that would mean I actually have to try.

More Posts from Callsign-mirage and Others

9 years ago
The Walking Dead Appreciation Week 
The Walking Dead Appreciation Week 
The Walking Dead Appreciation Week 
The Walking Dead Appreciation Week 
The Walking Dead Appreciation Week 
The Walking Dead Appreciation Week 

The Walking Dead Appreciation Week 

Day 2:  Favourite Female Character- Beth Greene

7 years ago

Southside Serpents - LAWS💫

Law #1

A Serpent never shows cowardice.

Law #2

If a Serpent is killed or imprisoned, their family will be taken care of.

Law #3

No Serpent stands alone.

Law #4

No Serpent is left for dead.

Law #5

A Serpent never betrays his own.

Law #6

In unity there is strength.

2 years ago

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Reader

Summary: Actions don’t always speak louder than words as you tell Bob you love him for the first time.

Disclaimer: As an avid Swifite, I eagerly listened to songs from Taylor Swift’s newest album, Midnights, and the song, “Sweet Nothing,” inspired this particular piece. I’m a softie for Bob and a softie in general, so I took great delight in writing this one😌

Listen to “Sweet Nothing” here.

____________________________________________

His hands firmly grip the steering wheel while his eyes are solely focused on the road, vigilant of his surroundings. You sit comfortably in the passenger seat and admire him from there. Sometimes, you can’t believe you’re fortunate enough to not only have encountered such a handsome, warm, observant, sensitive, and loving man, but also to have someone who appreciates everything you embody.

As you relish your time together, you recall the poem currently tucked away in the inner pocket of your purse. Bob cooked you breakfast earlier that morning and even though you offered several times to assist him with preparing the meal, he denied your requests. Instead, he encouraged you to select something for the two of you to watch once everything was ready. With his back turned and his attention primarily on the stove, it was easy for you to briefly sneak into the other room and quietly open the desk drawer to retrieve a blank piece of paper along with a pen.

You peeked around the corner to confirm he was still occupied and were pleased to find him in the midst of adding more batter to the waffle iron (which he recently purchased after you shared waffles are your favorite breakfast food). Once you returned to your spot on the somewhat lumpy couch, you put your pen to paper and it seemed to assume a life of its own. It glided across the paper as the words came to you effortlessly and when you reviewed the collection of words, you were satisfied with the finished product. You neatly folded and placed it in your purse only to be told moments later that breakfast was served.

Now, you’re mulling over when to share this piece of writing with Bob. It’s probably better to wait until he can provide you with his full attention as he needs to remain alert while driving. However, you fear some of your confidence may dwindle if he’s staring at you while you’re reading it, so you decide to do it now.

“Bob?”

“Hmm?” he responds while glancing at you momentarily from the driver’s seat.

“There’s, um, something that I-I want to share with you…if that’s okay.” You avert your gaze and suddenly become interested by a small tear in the seat beneath you.

“Of course. What is it?” he asks smoothly.

“Well, it’s…uh, it’s a poem.”

“A poem? One that you read recently?”

“No. I, uh, I actually wrote it. I wrote it for you.” You turn your head slightly to gauge his reaction and observe a rosy tint decorating his cheeks.

“F-for me?” he clarifies. “Really?”

The uncertainty in his voice tugs at your heart.

“No one’s ever written me a poem,” he admits and it’s evident that he’s touched by the gesture despite not having heard it. You’re baffled by this information because if possible, you’d have 100 poems dedicated to this man, enough to wear out the ink in every pen you own because words almost fail to do this man justice.

You move to unzip your purse so you can take out the carefully folded piece of paper, but Bob’s voice interrupts you.

“Do you mind waiting until we’re home? I’m afraid I won’t be able to listen as well. Plus we’re only a few minutes away now.” He offers you a tender smile, the one that is capable of forming goosebumps on your skin and making your heart hum in contentment. How can you deny him? Not when he’s given you so much.

“Sure,” you agree and feel the butterflies in your stomach flutter in a frenzied manner as you count down the minutes until you’re back at his place. He makes the final turn into the lot and you feel as though you may jump out of your skin. You steal a glance at him before you two get out of the car and see a hint of a smile on his face; you know it’s in anticipation of the words written for him and only him. You hope you don’t come to regret sharing this with him now.

Once you’re inside and the familiar scent of his place greets you, you catch him looking at you expectantly.

“Here, sit down,” you instruct gently and sit beside him. The crinkled paper quivers in your hands and Bob notices this because he places his hand upon your thigh. He shoots you a small smile, wordlessly urging you to proceed. You clear your throat and read the following words that you had only formulated hours before aloud:

Ordinary was never meant to be mine

Normalcy and the expected are quite dreary, I find

Perhaps others were right in that I was asking for too much

But then again, they’ve never felt your incomparable touch

That fateful day we met permanently altered my life

And seemed to trivialize past obstacles and strife

For I had found more than I could conjure up in my mind

A man greater than lofty fantasies, one that is truly divine

Your warmth engulfs me, a coziness that cannot be replicated

Enough to shield me from pain, former hurt eliminated

Our intertwined bodies, breathing you in

My refuge is in your company as we touch, skin to skin

Your words and heart are unparalleled

You showed me your true self and as a result, I fell

With you in my life, there is no longer a void

Because I am in love with you, Robert Floyd

You lower the paper from your eyes and muster the courage to make eye contact with him even though you’re fearful of his reaction. What if he thinks your feelings are premature? Maybe he’ll be overwhelmed. Perhaps he’ll decide that you two need to slow down and put things on hold for the time being.

But when your eyes meet his, you take in their misty appearance and although his sensitivity is not novel, you didn’t expect your words to elicit such a reaction.

“Y/N…y-you love me?” he asks in quiet disbelief.

You nod.

“That…that was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard,” he reveals and you feel your breath catch in your throat. “And I-I love you.”

“You love me?” you ask, mimicking his own question.

He nods while smiling and adjusting his glasses. “I do and I have for a while. I just, uh, I didn’t know when the right time was to tell you and I didn’t, you know…want to mess this up bec-“

You clutch his hands in yours. “I didn’t want to mess this up. I thought the poem may be a bit much,” you say shyly.

“A bit much?” Bob repeats. “No. It’s-it’s everything.” He leans forward and kisses you so sweetly that you swear your limbs may liquify.

When you come over the next night after work, Bob asks you to grab his watch that he left on his nightstand while he cooks dinner. You wander into his bedroom only to find something else there, too: the poem you wrote him encased in a sleek, sturdy frame. The grin that spreads across your face almost strains your muscles and you pluck the watch from its place on the nightstand, continuing to grin as you make your way to him.

“One question for you, Bob Floyd.” You dangle his watch in front of him. “Was this merely a ploy so I’d see my framed poem?”

“I can’t give away all my secrets,” he teases before wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into him, affirming how special it is to be loved by Bob Floyd.

@bradshawsbaby @gretagerwigsmuse @roosterforme @bratshaws @bobfloydsbabe @samwlscns @sebsxphia @theforgottenmcrmy @notyoursbutlewis

9 years ago

Imagine how much food and water he wasted.....yet still funny

These vines are my life

8 months ago

currently missing julie and the phantoms

6 years ago

FP: That’s it! You’re all grounded. [points to Jughead] No writing for you. Toni, no camera for you. [points to Fangs] No musical theater for you. And… [looks at Sweet Pea] Oh my God, is there anything that you love?

Sweet Pea: Revenge.

FP: No vengeance for you.

Sweet Pea: I was going to say “I’ll get you for this” but I guess that’s off the table.

9 years ago

Day 9: something you're proud of in the last few days

So this might be boring to you guys but I'm proud of myself for being able to talk for myself. If you've read my post before about social anxiety then you now it's hard. Two weeks ago a boy in my class made fun of me because I couldn't ask for a pencil from my teacher. I've tried really hard to keep up the confidence to order or go ask for something by myself and it slowly evolving!


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2 weeks ago

Kimi now thinks he’s psychic

*After the rookies made a huge mess in the paddock*

Kimi: Anyone else feel the weird urge to lecture themselves?

Kimi, imitating Max: Kimi, what are you doing?

Max, appearing behind them: Kimi, what are you doing?

Kimi: I conjured him

7 years ago
I Fixed Brett’s Wikia Page. I Will Continue To Change It If People Change It Back. Brett Deserved Better.

I fixed Brett’s wikia page. I will continue to change it if people change it back. Brett deserved better.

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  • callsign-mirage
    callsign-mirage reblogged this · 8 years ago
callsign-mirage - Callsign Mirage
Callsign Mirage

22 she/herAt the touch of love everyone becomes a poetRead All About It

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