* LEAVE ME ALONE !

you are not the horror you have seen. indie oc | est 2016 written by joanne 

[ghoststainarchive]

i love saying you’re gonna be active like three weeks ago and then just not doing that haha

[ghoststainarchive]

hullo friends, i’ll probably be around this weekend. and i’m definitely gonna get some replies done and have them queued. i’m very busy and very tired, but i’m gonna try and be present. school is hard 

[ghoststainarchive]

:’)

[loganlermansboyfriend]

[lukekirby]

bachelorette (2012) dir. leslye headland

[tankaramo]

“are you okay” no, next question

[oingoz]

ftwillz

[lostandinlovefuck]

I still wish that one day i‘ll wake up and be back to the times when I was happy and realize this is all just a giant nightmare

[ghoststainarchive]

emborn‌.

           “Oh uh, what’s with the look for? You uh, look like you’ve seen a ghost.” She’s trying to clear the air a little bit. That doesn’t make it any less awkward, though.  //  @ghoststain  ;  liked this.

      “that’s not funny and ya know it.” right off the bat with hostility, great job august. she doesn’t even bother to hide her displeasure with ghosts. “this ain’t ghost whisperer and i ain’t jennifer love hewitt. what do ya want?”

[ghoststainarchive]

@endtablefororphans // cont. from x 

      she’s scared shitless, absolutely terrified. breaths coming in short bursts, her hazel eyes bouncing from the carnage to the man who’s causing it and finally to the MONSTER. “what the fuck did ya just do?” it’s panicked and hoarse, barely rising above a whisper. she swallows deeply, mouth opening and closing as she decides what to say. “this isn’t good. god, please... don’t hurt me. please.” she’s begging, pleading not to end up like the orderlies. 

[ghoststainarchive]

❝      MUSE   AESTHETIC       ;   repost   ,     don’t reblog .

the softest palms that never want to touch you until after a bottle of wine. ╱    “ just braid your hair if you won’t brush it, at least, you useless girl. ”     ╱      pulling on your skirt with one hand as you shuffle away     ╱     “ you’ll get it done before the day is up. ” ╱    guilt that isn’t yours to have.  ╱      it’s a crooked game, but it’s the only one in town.   ╱    chains    ╱      “ how could you do this to me?      ╱      the sharp sting of guilt.    ╱      you feel something even though you’re paid to do the opposite.   ╱    the family you never had     ╱     falling backwards through time.    ╱     quicksand.    ╱      drowning, but you don’t save yourself.      ╱     “ you’re getting better. ”      ╱       “ they smile like a snake. ”     ╱     you’re the stars and the sky.    ╱    there’s a part of you that couldn’t stay away even if you were forced to.     ╱     they are your wings, there’s no doubt there. ╱     “ let’s take off somewhere. let’s fly. ”     ╱      you edge a bit too close to the sun.      ╱      another ghost to take your place after every stumble.    ╱     deep roots in the ground slashed open in the sun.

rock candy melting in water.     ╱     waves rise and leave the foam behind.     ╱      the precipice you call home has a tip you’ll reach eventually.   ╱     happiness is the best front a man can take.  ╱ “ i’ve never seen someone as beautiful as you before. ”     ╱     you disagree; they’re more beautiful.   ╱     discomfort at the tiniest of touches.  ╱     the sky opens up when you see them.   ╱   rain comes down.   ╱    poppy fields.   ╱  your sanity hanging by a thread.    ╱   “ oh god, what have you done? ”  ╱    roommates weren’t supposed to be the smartest ones of all.   ╱   they’ve got a devil on their shoulder and an angel in their mind. ╱     you try to help, but it only got worse.   ╱  now they’re dead, it’s all your fault.   ╱   & eve in the garden.   ╱   temptress in crisp button-downs.  ╱     “ fuck, you’ve gone off the deep end, haven’t you? ”  ╱   they lie so perfectly you almost forget yourself.  ╱  the spark that lit the kindling on your funeral pyre. ╱   sugar and spice and a taste for the dark side.

yves saint laurent    ╱    black opium on your pillow, a scented cloud drifting behind you like a cape. ╱    crisp green apples piled up on the table.    ╱   your shoes are sharp, but your wit is even sharper.  ╱   what a pretty one, they say.  ╱   you laugh without humor.   ╱    a soft, hollow spot sits in your chest. ╱    there’s a place you’ll never leave no matter who tries to stop you.    ╱ the seat of power fits like a glove. ╱   heavy is the head that wears the crown.    ╱     you share a space, but not a mind.    ╱     they think you are weak; you are, maybe.    ╱      “ what are you going to do with all of these pills? ”     ╱   an empty bird’s nest.     ╱     broken pencil tips.  ╱  there’s an empty paper in front of you that you’ll never fill.     ╱      “ we want you to succeed. i hope you can grasp that. ”     ╱     “ they weren’t there when it happened. ”

corruption.      ╱     there’s a red string tying you together.    ╱     the scent of whiskey on the horizon.  ╱    “ you’re the best friend i’ve ever had. ”     ╱     pink tipped fingers lock in secrecy.    ╱     99 red balloons drifting through a hazy sky.    ╱     you try to lift your head up, but it’s so much effort.    ╱     always walking on sunshine.  ╱     there’s a million reasons to come down from the clouds, but you can’t be bothered.    ╱     hair twisted up with glitter butterfly clips like a haphazard mobile.     ╱    you drift, but you know where you’re going.    ╱  no one has any dirt on you because you’re infinitely spotless.  ╱      the empty side of your bed they crawled into when they were nine.     ╱    court hearings.   ╱    “ I miss you. ”    ╱      siblings are a funny thing.   ╱     they point out every family-shaped hole in every picture on the mantelpiece.    ╱     blackbird screaming     ╱     wake in nightmares.     ╱  are you an illusion?    ╱     i don’t feel real.   ╱  who is in control?

tagged by: no one

tagging: @dcgausscr, @daayaan, @emborn, @biirdbone, and anyone else <3

[ghoststainarchive]

tomakepeace‌.

           “Don’t you… work at the gas station?” Otis has to talk loudly over the music. The only reason he ended up at this party was because of Eric, and since his best friend had ditched him to try to impress their classmates, Otis was just standing in a corner. But he recognized her, and a little bit of conversation wouldn’t hurt. He tried to picture her name tag. “Um… Augustina, right?” / @ghoststain

   “oh! uh, yeah, i do.”she didn’t expect someone to recognize her, slightly startling her. she recognizes him, sees him in the store couple times a week. doesn’t know his name, but remembers him being friendly enough. “august. i don’t really go by augustina.” she really needs to remember to put a sticker on the latter half of her name tag.

[ghoststainarchive]

“Don’t give me that look! It wasn’t my fault!”

basic angst starters | accepting!

      “i’m not giving ya any look, liv! this is just my face! and it definitely was your fault! …or at least partly.”

[ghoststainarchive]

“I will lock myself in the bathroom and fucking cry.”

jenna marbles meme | accepting! (pls send me this!)

      “ah, well don’t stay in there too long. and take some water! wouldn’t wanna get dehydrated.”

[ghoststainarchive]

WHAT TAROT CARD ARE YOU ?

YOU GOT : THE MOON

You’re deeply creative and intuitive, and many people find you mysterious. You can be manipulative and have a dark side that you’re good at hiding, and maybe have a few skeletons in your closet. That said, there’s a distinct dreamlike quality about you — some might even say psychic.

tagged by: @biirdbone

tagging: you :)

[tetheredatlasarchive]

reply  speed   ≠   my  interest  in  our  thread  /  plot  /  or  you,  in  general.

[deathbyvalentine]

I was thirteen before I realised my mother was supposed to love me.  She never held my hand in the grocery store, didn’t glance at me twice when strange men walked past. She didn’t once drive me to school and wish me luck with a kiss on the cheek. When she held me, rarely, it was if she was holding me down, arms like vices. I never heard a petname cross her lips, and love didn’t even cross her mind. I didn’t ask her to kiss better my war-wounds, I never cried on her lap when bruised with gossip. I didn’t run to her when a boy showed his love too roughly, or when another boy’s life ended in whisky and flame. She acted as if she didn’t even see the noose tightening around my neck with every word I heard. She looked right through me.  Why shouldn’t I hate her? Why shouldn’t I rage against my childhood, beat my fists bloody against the walls of my life’s house? Why shouldn’t her name be swallowed like poison? But these things didn’t happen either. Instead, I was fascinated by the marble statue named mother. I viewed her as if through gallery glass.  Untouchable.

Unwinnable. (A.V.P)