[heartslength]

uhhhhhhhhhhh hey what’s up everyone... generic don’t mind the construction etc

[heartslength]

my blog’s a mess right now thanks everyone for bearing with me during these uhhh harrowing times

[spctlessminds]

this ask meme is based on the blog gravesuggestion.  i’ve divided it up into two categories  ( light  &  dark )  based on the themes.  some of these can be somewhat triggering seeing that the darker ones deal with a lot of death mentions.  please be cautious before continuing on!!

L I G H T

‘  at night i dream of you.  ’ ‘  don’t give up yet.  you still have time to fix things.  ’ ‘  falling in love with someone else is not a personal attack.  ’ ‘  i am still so weak when it comes to you.  ’ ‘  i can’t believe i let myself let you down.  ’ ‘  i don’t care where we go when we die,  as long as i’m with you.  ’ ‘  i dream of saying to you all the words i held inside until it was too late.  ’ ‘  i feel so warm  &  safe when you talk to me.  maybe i could love you if you’d let me.  ’ ‘  i finally let the right people in  &  i have never felt so loved.  ’ ‘  i like the way your nails paint red stripes along my spine days after you’re gone.  ’ ‘  i lived in your permafrost for twenty years  &  then you looked at me  &  i felt the warmth of spring.  ’ ‘  i once wished you’d leave me alone,  but i take it back.  ’ ‘  i want to be able to love someone else,  but you stretch your arms  &  spread your legs inside my heart so that there is no room for anyone or anything else.  ’ ‘  i want to believe that we got it right this time.  ’ ‘  i wonder how much longer i can cling to your light before it expires completely.  ’ ‘  i would travel across the world to be by your side,  because as long as you are with me,  anywhere is a perfect place to me.  ’ ‘  it took me awhile to realize it myself,  but you are not what other people say you are.  ’ ‘  it’s not that i really need you,  but life would be pretty boring without you around.  there’s no one i would rather be with.  ’ ‘  i’d like to stay like this for awhile.  ’ ‘  life  &  death don’t have to be so boring,  let’s make both an adventure.  ’ ‘  life imitates art,  they say.  i didn’t believe it until i started to notice the way your eyelashes look so much like tiny ink stroke.  ’ ‘  live your life so that when you die,  souls will come for miles just to hear your historic tales.  ’ ‘  make your exes jealous  &  your past self proud.  ’ ‘  maybe you’re what i needed to find in order to move on.  ’ ‘  never get caught falling harder.  they’ll never let you back up.  ’ ‘  please don’t go.  ’ ‘  some days it’s easier to just stop fighting it  &  succumb.  ’ ‘  sometimes,  you’ll find it hard to keep going,  but you always will.  ’ ‘  the desire i feel for you is that same itching,  insidious hunger that an addict has for their addiction.  ’ ‘  the worst thing about you is that you weren’t all bad.  ’ ‘  there is absolutely nothing  &  no one who can stop me.  ’ ‘  there is no route of losing you that is without pain.  ’ ‘  there’s still room for adventure  &  there is no one i’d rather have by my side.  ’ ‘  things didn’t turn out the way i planned,  but i’m alright with that.  ’ ‘  we could be really incredible together,  you know?  ’ ‘  you are beautiful  &  vibrant  &  confident.  you are light  &  laughter incarnate  &  every fiber of your being screams freedom  &  joy.  when i am with you,  i am truly happy.  ’ ‘  you are starlight incarnate,  from the grand way you sway your hips to the wide mysterious way you think.  blessed are any to be loved by you.  ’ ‘  you are too afraid of the future to let go of a past that was never kind to you.  ’ ‘  you call me yours  &  i have no idea what that even means to you.  ’ ‘  you remind me of bubblegum  &  sweets;  soft  &  pink  &  warm.  you are strong in the gentlest way.  you are so stubbornly kind.  i wish i could be like that.  ’ ‘  you still visit me while i sleep sometimes.  your fingers trace my spine  &  i listen to you breathe.  please stop haunting me.  ’ ‘  ‘morbid curiosity’ is a wonderful way to describe how i feel about you.  ’

D A R K

‘  a thousand empty bottles  &  fist fights will never return to us what we lost that day.  ’ ‘  everyone else has moved on,  but i am still here.  ’ ‘  everything about you screams danger.  ’ ‘  everything is worthless to you  &  you,  in turn,  became worthless.  ’ ‘  for once in my life i want to be surrounded by people that i don’t feel like i need to impress.  ’ ‘  freedom is really hard to get used to.  ’ ‘  how could you do this to me?  how fucking could you?  ’ ‘  i am becoming everything we always dreamed of  &  i am leaving you behind.  ’ ‘  i buried you so well that you might as well have died.  ’ ‘  i can rest easy knowing that the person i love is dead  &  not the monster you became.  ’ ‘  i can’t look at you.  not now,  not ever.  ’ ‘  i don’t ask how you’ve been.  what’s the point?  you’d lie anyways.  ’ ‘  i dream of hearing the words i so desperately needed to lay your memory to rest.  ’ ‘  i haunted this house first.  there is no room for you here.  ’ ‘  i have a right to be upset.  i loved them too, you know.  ’ ‘  i just want it to end.  i want it to all go away.  i want to go away.  ’ ‘  i may be a wolf in sheep’s clothing,  but a snake hiding in the skin of a mouse is far more dangerous.  ’ ‘  i saw your face today  &  didn’t feel anything.  i am free.  ’ ‘  i tried to save you,  but you didn’t want to be saved.  you just wanted someone to suffer with you.  ’ ‘  it’s almost as if you were never here.  ’ ‘  it’s unhealthy to do these things,  you tell me.  you say it’s time to stop smoking,  time to stop gambling,  &  dammit,  i f you don’t stop drinking it’ll kill you.  i sure hope you’re right,  darling.  ’ ‘  i’m always pleasantly surprised by how easy it is to kill you in my mind  ’ ‘  i’m not really scared to die.  i’m more afraid that no one will miss me when i’m gone.  ’ ‘  i’m not the person you left behind anymore.  there’s no one here to miss.  ’ ‘  i’ve been dead far longer than i’ve been alive.  ’ ‘  i’ve eaten nothing but flower petals  &  ivy for weeks because i want to be beautiful inside like you.  ’ ‘  i’ve never been completely satisfied.  i most likely will still be unsatisfied long after my death.  ’ ‘  no motive other than pleasure,  my dear.  ’ ‘  one day i’ll go or you will.  either way,  it will be as if i’m losing a piece of myself.  ’ ‘  our dreams  &  promises decay along with you.  ’ ‘  the leaves change,  but nothing else does.  ’ ‘  the only difference between avoiding  &  leaving is that now i’m not waiting up for you.  ’ ‘  there is no such thing as a person who is required to love you.  ’ ‘  there’s only so much that can be done to repair old damage.  ’ ‘  things aren’t going as i hoped.  maybe if i die,  i can start over again?  better luck next time.  ’ ‘  this is not something to be proud of.  this is a tragedy.  ’ ‘  trying to get rid of me?  oh honey,  you’ll have to try much harder than that.  ’ ‘  trying to get under my skin?  you’re nothing more than a pesky itch.  ’ ‘  unlike you,  i can’t hide my identity when it becomes an inconvenience or a danger.  ’ ‘  weeping is for gods  &  martyrs,  we cannot afford such luxuries.  ’ ‘  would you even miss me?  ’ ‘  you are not important enough to earn an eternal place in my heart.  ’ ‘  you complain nonstop about being unloved  &  alone,  i can’t imagine what you’d be like if that were actually true.  ’ ‘  you don’t know what it’s like.  ’ ‘  you made this so fucking easy for me.  ’ ‘  you should see me as a threat.  i will tear down everything you know until there is nothing left of you.  i am a walking threat.  ’ ‘  you think i’m already gone,  but i’m still fighting.  ’ ‘  you think i’m dead,  but i’m just dying.  ’ ‘  you were never an addiction,  you were a fucking disease.  ’ ‘  you wouldn’t dare cross me.  i am god  &  you are the soil beneath my feet.  ’ ‘  your existence takes up so much more space in mine that we might as well be one entity.  ’ ‘  your fingers are so cold  &  bruised,  but you’re still slamming your fists again the barricade as if it makes a difference.  ’ ‘  your hair is tied in a noose  &  your fingernails are razor blades,  your lips are poison  &  i will gratefully kiss them.  ’ ‘  your hatred has a body count  &  we will not forget.  ’ ‘  your loss,  not mine.  ’ ‘  you’re a sick fuck.  you know that?  ’ ‘  you’re not gentle with me  &  i would never ask you to be.  ’ ‘  you’ve trapped yourself so thoroughly in your own mind that it’s not even a rut anymore,  it’s a pit.   ’

[vaememes]

  some  one  word  prompts .    (    send   one   of   the   words   for   our   muses   to   interact   based   off   that   word   )

goodbye :  my  muse  kissing  and/or  hugging  your  muse  goodbye.

secrets :   my  muse  sharing/confiding  their  deepest,  darkest  secret  with  your  muse.

nightmare :   my  muse  coming  to  your  muses  aid  when  they  awake  from  a  nightmare.

push :   my  muse  pushing  your  muse  out  of  the  way  of  danger.

embrace :   my  muse  abruptly  throwing  their  arms  around  your  muse,  hugging  them  tightly.

bloody :   my  muse  coming  to  your  muse  with  blood  stains  on  their  clothes  and  hands,  shaking.

drunk :   my  muse  takes  care  of  your  muse  while  they  are  in  a  drunken  state.

bed :   my  muse  wakes  up  in  the  same  bed  as  your  muse  with  little  recollection  of  the  night  before.

slap :   my  muse  slaps  your  muse  across  the  face  out  of  anger.

gone :   my  muse  stays  by  your  muses  side  while  they  take  their  last  breath.

scream :   my  muse  hears  your  muse  scream  and  quickly  runs  to  their  side.

sleep :   my  muse  falls  asleep  on  your  muse,  making  it  hard  for  my  muse  to  leave.

stalk :   my  muse  gets  caught  by  your  muse  trailing  behind  them,  watching  them.

sacrifice :   my  muse  jumps  in  front  of  your  muse,  sacrificing  their  life  for  your  muses  life.

trail :   my  muse  watches  as  your  muse  traces  one  of  my  muses  scares,  asking  them  about  it.

love :   my  muse  confronts  your  muse  about  why  they  never  say  ’ i  love  you ’  back.

piggyback :   my  muse  jumps  on  your  muses  back,  my  muse  gives  yours  a  piggyback  ride.

jump :   my  muse  runs  to  your  muse  and  jumps  up,  my  muse  holding  yours  up  by  their  thighs.

dance :   my  muse  holds  their  hand  out,  waiting  for  your  muse  to  come  out  and  slow  dance  with  them.

carry :   my  muse  carries  your  muse  to  their  house,  either  drunk,  or  a  weakened  state,  can  specify. 

lighter :   my  muse  pulls  out  a  lighter  and  lights  it  for  your  muse  to  use  to  light  their  cigarette.

shot :   my  muse  gets  shot  and  struggles  to  your  muses  house  for  aid.

wound :   my  muse  patches  and  bandages  a  wound  your  muse  has  gotten.

fight :   my  muse  stops  your  muse  from  getting  into  a  physical  fight  with  someone  else.

arrest :   your  muse  finds  my  muse  arrested  in  cuffs  with  swarming  police  everywhere.

hospital :   my  muse  awakens  in  a  hospital,  finding  your  muse  by  their  side,  asking  what  happened.

gun :  my  muse  pulls  out  a  gun  on  your  muse,  your  muse  tries  to  talk  them  into  putting  the  gun  down. 

betrayal :  my  muse  finds  out  that  your  muse  has  betrayed  them  in  same  way  and  confronts  them  about  it.

nude :  my  muse  walks  in  on  your  muse  accidentally  seeing  them  naked.

karaoke :  my  muse  pulls  your  muse  up  on  stage  with  them  to  sing  some  karaoke  songs. 

laughter :   my  muse  hears  your  muse  laughing  uncontrollably  and  approaches  to  see  if  they  are  okay.

murder :   my  muse  walks  in  on  your  muse  committing  a  gruesome  murder.

wet :   my  muse  strips  down  to  their  under  garments  and  runs  into  the  water,  motioning  for  your  muse  to  join  them.

[heartslength]

crimeo:

      warmth in his cheeks,    hugo has done the one thing no one else has been able to;   he’s gotten alexander goth to shut up.   typically,   he always has a proposition or an argument to make,   a correction to point out or a question to inquire.  right now  ?   he’s stumped,   if only because his mind is flustered,   cluttered by kindness unfamiliar and grotesquely sweet,   it nearly scorches him.    ‘ t-thanks… ‘   stutters,   averts gaze,   examines the room to settle his mind.   his hazels steady on the sketch.   ‘ it looks beautiful,  hugo.  ‘ 

          it’s a breath of fresh air to be spewing positive poetry, though he’s not sure it’s one he’d partake in regularly. his usual writing is depressed, and he knows it. prides himself in it, sometimes. but there’s something about alexander that has him waxing poetic in that beautiful positive way, can’t helpo but talk about his beauty and strength. ‘you’re welcome,’ is hummed from between thin lips. ‘yeah? i should hope you like it, seeing as i’m about to put it onto your skin. mm, a virgin canvas...’ a tattoo artist’s favorite.

[heartslength]

vsprtin:

      bad attention   was precisely why he felt comfortable enough to talk to her,   don’t you see ?   should everyone be saying how lovely she was,   he’d be disinterested,   because it was likely untrue——-   empty words to make her feel good and more important than she truly was.    ‘  you know,   if it’s your thing,  you could atleast pretend to be happy.  pop a few antidepressants,   wear a short skirt,   and you’re good to go like the rest of them.   poof  !   your bad reputation is fixed. ‘

          once upon a time, there was a girl who cared for the law -- a girl who knew who she was and who she’d been raised to be. reputation be damned, she would have rather been a good girl than do anything wrong. funny how the tables had turned. ‘i’m sure you and half the town would love to see the prodigal daughter shaking her tail on the corner of sixth street, oddly enough i don’t see the appeal in putting on my laciest pair for the nearest filthy hands to grope at.’ there’s a bored undertone to her words, but interest in her eyes as she watches him -- she’s wary, almost, as if expecting him to turn on a dime. it was nothing personal.

[vsprtin-blog]

      ‘  long faces   don’t suit anyone,   you know———-  besides maybe horses,   but it’s not like they can help it.   now   that’s   something to be sad about !  ‘    /  @heartslength

[heartslength]

        bared teeth, a flash of fangs. it’s a grimace, a disgusted look, even as she turns to face whoever had decided it was worth it to poke at the campus freak. ( did you hear what she did--? the whispers in the halls weren’t exactly subtle. ) ‘oh, i’m so sorry, was i not grinning wide enough for you, jason dean?’

[vomitsoul]

@heartslength | for nathan!

there’s that fond smile she saves for him as she stumbles over. apparently the gracefulness that can be seen in her skateboarding disappears when she’s tipsy. nearly falling on her ass, boots sliding in the dewy grass, she manages to sit down next to him while still in one piece. her beer, however, sloshes around quite a bit.“hey, what’s up? how come you’re not inside, enjoying your party?” she can take a few guesses, but she’ll let him answer.  

[heartslength]

     rachel always did somehow know him better than the rest of their fucked up student body. she and victoria both did. a warm chuckle slides past chapped lips as she slides down in the damp grass next to him, his head tipped back against the brick wall behind them. “careful, bitch, you might wipe out next time,” he teases, crossing his arms over his knees. his eyes are red-rimmed, whether it’s the weed or being at the brink of tears all day is hard to tell. his dad called earlier. “eh, it’s all a little... much, right now,” he said, gesturing with his hands as if to mean y’know, all of it.

[heartslength]

crimeo:

       sits in plush chair,  mind circling for an adequate response.   of course,  reading poetry gave him time to calculate a response.   having it spoken to him  ?   he feels pressure to reply right away,   with something kind,  of course, yet not so that it seems forced.   ‘  that’s…  nice   of you. ‘   albeit he’s at a loss for words.  like always,   he challenges instead.   perhaps that’s why he knew little of friendship;   always so argumentative,   so corrective.  ‘ but nothing about me is angelic. ‘   therein lies his blossoming self-doubt,   and a hefty hatred.    ‘ i’m…   grotesquely ordinary.    i do math, drink black coffee, arrive five minutes early for classes.  i don’t…  heal the sick or give to the poor. ‘  partial lie,   he did donate occasionally,  but he knew he could do more.   then again,  anyone could always do more.

          ‘you make broken look beautiful.’ there’s a hum on his hips as he picks up his sketch book, settling onto the counter next to the chair. ‘strong look invincible. you walk with the universe on your shoulders and yet it looks more like a pair of wings than the shackles i know you feel it to be.’ he wets his lips, sketching out a quick violet, eyeing the bare expanse of alexander’s skin. it would do nicely. ‘you don’t have to save others to be an angel, sometimes it’s as simple as saving yourself.’

[climbstudio]

Purebred Aesthetic - Jayfeather as an Oriental Shorthair

[heartslength]

crimeo:

       begins to stutter,    he isn’t sure whether the observation is a compliment or an insult.   what’s worse is he isn’t sure which one flusters him more.   ‘  w-what does that…   mean  ? ‘   it could mean many different things,   he notes.    would the poems have a positive tone ?   a negative tone ? a mood that accentuated his ever-blossoming loneliness,  or a mood that accentuated his continuously growing tenderness ?  he tries to ignore it.  perhaps,   if he’d paid any mind to hugo’s societal cues,  like the way his breath escaped,  therein would lie alexander’s answer——    but,   of course,   he never paid attention when it mattered.   he sits.   ‘ i’d like to read…  your poems. ‘   he wrote notes and equations,    but never poems.  the art intrigued him.   

          ‘they say angels were made in god’s image, that they were golden-haired and blue-eyed, clearly those who preach of cherubim have yet to see the heir to the goth family.’ he’s sort of talking absentmindedly at this point. poetry comes oddly weird to him today than it usually does, perhaps a new muse? ‘sculpted from a granite forged in tragedy, evidently. perhaps you’ve more in common with cherubim than anticipated.’ he patted the black leather seat. ‘hop up, please.’ once upon a time he would be embarrassed of letting words flow so easily. what changed, hugo tique?

[heartslength]

no homo bro

of course. absolutely no homo here. fresh out.

[weiwx]

[chemicalglambert-deactivated202]

Aleksander & Dominik - Sala Samobójców

[lonely-peony]

[heartslength]

crimeo:

       never one for nicknames,    he knew how they could sometimes tick and ache.   he never liked any of his;    not even those of familiarity,   like alex or al,  but those he had the most hatred towards were the ones crafted either by his style or his last name,  which coincidentally coincide.   GOTH   BOY.   he wonders if hugo hates it too,   as they both shared it.   ‘ okay——–   ‘   there’s a sudden timidness,   and if you look close enough,   perhaps you’d be able to see his cheeks burn red.   but,   he cooperates regardless,   allowing suspenders to hang from dress pants.  button-down to be unbuttoned,  folded neatly and put to the side.  surprisingly,   while he is not muscular,   he doesn’t appear to be that dainty either, unlike the rest of him.  toned would likely be the best word,   shadows of a faint muscular build ever so slightly noticeable.   he feels awkward,   realizing he hasn’t been shirtless in front of anyone in…  ever. 

          nicknames are a sore spot. when you fight so hard to get someone to call you one for a while, do you revoke the right to be upset when it becomes the only name people call you? when they forget you even have a first name, much less a last name? sometimes he thinks he may have signed away the rights when he signed up for livejournal, but what does he know. boots are loud on the tiled flooring as he walks them back into the back room where there’s a plush chair and a tattoo gun, along with a chest full of ink and various implements. turns to look at alexander, breath leaving him quickly without his permission. ‘you’re the sort they write poems about.’ a quick pause. ‘i suppose i would know.’

[heartslength]

crimeo:

      ‘ i’ll do…     my   hip. ‘    spontaneous decision,   he chooses it due to the fact it would likely look the coolest ( or the silliest. )   behind his ear ?  he’d never be able to admire it, and therein would lie a true tragedy.   ‘ i’ve heard good things,  hugo.    i’m———————    trusting   you. ‘

          ‘you already earned my respect when you knew my name, you don’t have to go and butter me up by saying you’ve heard good things about my work.’ hugo prides himself in his work, both written and inked. he’s a creative soul, he just wishes more people would know him for that, and not the simple ‘goth boy’ moniker that he’d created for himself when he was younger. ‘you’ll have to take off your shirt. shouldn’t have to remove your pants, but we’ll see once i have a good sketch.’