♕ ┄ not a good man

• • • • • • •

[inboxideas]

".....has died." finish it in my ask.

[depressingxthings]

[grantwaards]

[perfectstormrising]

you chug a fifth of alcohol by yourself & everyone around you is too busy cheering to wonder how empty you had to be in order to do it

This fucked me up (via sorxlla)

[wnq-writers]

Most days my demons are silent, but when they talk, oh, God, how they scream.

writersblockedmind (via wnq-writers)

[alleyspatarchived-deactivated20]

                            we move by instinct, darling let our hands be hatchets,                             let us wander blindly, swinging madly  in a forest made                             of flesh. we move by instinct, darling let our eyes like                             lepers drive the doubters from our homes and into the                             bottom of the sea. and we speak in signals, darling let                             our smoke stitch pictures, let us twist in patterns, dull the                             horror of a city still on fire. for we are like medics handling                             suicide by cyanide with bleeding fingers. let us suffer                              completely inadequate.  and we move like lovers, lover let                             me run my fingers down your side and k i s s you right below                                                       the eye. we sleep with shadows but we never give them                                                           bread. horror, dress yourself in shame or I will tear a hole                             in you, you harlot. burn your eyes.                                           ( I will hold your white-washed bones unto                                             the sky and scream “oh god, if you are there,                                             I hold this body to your judgment — give it                                             your wrath or your mercy.                                                                             but please pick wrath. )

[dimepoetry]

on loving a wounded boy: there will be days when his smile is so bright that it blinds you. do not shield your eyes from him; instead, kiss the smile from his lips and taste the heat there, the love, the ashes. he will taste of sunshine and ruin. let him. there will be days when his arms are a crime scene of his own design, taped off and untouchable. there will be days you come home to find him bleeding heavily onto the bathroom floor and he will stain the tile with every regret sorrow guilt and he will call it his own private sin. bandage him; press your mouth to the cotton dryness of the cloth and feel the warmth of blood beneath. remind yourself that this is not who he is. remind him that he is more than the sum of every wrong done to him. there will be days when his mouth tastes of saccharine instead of sugar. do not call him on his mistakes. drink this bitter-sweet sorrow down to the dregs. there will be nights when his eyes are the color of bruises and his sobs will keep you awake no matter how he tries to silence them. pull him into your arms, but say nothing. if he wants to tell you, he will. there will be mornings when he traces his fingers up your leg as you eat your breakfast. he will not ask for anything more than just the comfort of your presence in the room. give that to him. there will be midnights that his legs kick out in fear and he will sweat his nightmares out like fever. there will be some kisses that taste like every childhood summer you’ve ever had, and other kisses that taste like sweat-salt and the dampness of tears. there will be times that he asks too much of you, or times you give too little. there will be times that he hisses threats between his teeth and every word feels like a dagger. and there will be apologies, eventually. soft words and silences that blanket you in comfort and the knowledge that above all else, his love is genuine. these moments will warm you from the inside out. more than anything, there will be moments when he looks at you like you alone put the sun in the sky, and his sigh against your lips will be a supernova and an autumn wind all at once. kiss him once. kiss him again. kiss him until he forgets he’s broken, and kiss him until you forget that you’re broken too.

“On Loving a Wounded Boy,” by dimepoetry (via dimepoetry)

[victoriajoan]

Did they know that you were only human?

Warsan Shire, from “Questions for Miriam”

[proditcr-moved-blog]

leave it to bloodyknucklxs to actually make me want to do a ANTM au good lord this is beautiful

[incorrectknb]

If at first you don’t succeed, stab it.

Akashi Seijuurou (via incorrectknb)

[grantsskye]

[proditcr-moved-blog]

grantsskye:

aos rewatch ▶️ 1x11 the magical place

- have some cheekbones (ノ^▽^)ノ

[bloodyknucklxs]

[proditcr-moved-blog]

bloodyknucklxs:

                                 we  were  born   sick,   you  heard  them  say  it.

[inboxideas]

Go anon and pretend to be my character's child.

[bloodyknucklxs]

large, glassy blue eyes gaze up at her father, small hands wringing nervously as she tried to articulate the question that danced on the tip of her tongue. "papa," small voice cracks, she wants to be strong because her father is always so strong and stoic but as she casts her gaze down a tear rolls down her cheek. "why doesn't daddy come home anymore? he promised he would come home so he could see my new drawings," lower lip trembles as her composure is lost completely, "does daddy hate me?"

BE ERIC’S SPAWN.

someone once told me that, if you’re exposed to it enough, you’ll get used to it. adjusting to death was a matter of exposure, right?  wrong.  occasionally, depending on the perished, death was a smoother pill to swallow  ;  occasionally, he thought he’d finally built up an immunity to it. but every time he thought he had finally outsmarted the illustrious, merciless god, the universe did well to prove him wrong. the first time had been over-seas, when he’d lost a chunk of his team when a routine patrol through a recently overthrown city turned into a whirlwind of pure chaos – a series of car bombs, detonated with one hell of a purpose.

he rubs hands together, weathered fingertips sliding uneasy up arms where bare skin lies exposed. white, pressed shirt sits rolled against the crook of his arm – dark eyes drawing idle focus as he grounds himself in her presence. death seemed to only get harder over the years. he’d come for his father at the end of the night a handful of years prior, and then for his brother but months ago. (and now ward.)

and it was something he feels like he should have seen coming, something he should have been able to stop. a hesitant breath, an outstretched hand – stepping over boundaries long set despite ramifications. revenge held no room for a family, for a child, he’d known that. but he wanted to allot someone that closure. ward needed that closure, he’d   always   needed that closure.

(he should have done something.)

❝ of course he doesn’t. ❞  that nervous wringing, those uneasy hands – he recognizes himself in her blatantly anxious movements. he recognizes his own, sad eyes, gazing out and looking for answers, trying to find some sort of acceptance from the people he’d cared for. the hospital still smells heavy on his skin, under his nails, bleeding from the cross-stitch of his shirt.  ❝ you know he doesn’t. ❞

he feels like he’s explained it a thousand times. (he’s not coming home. he’s gone, but he loved you.) but it never really seems to sink in, and that’s what kills him. a conversation had a thousand times, it erodes the very core of him, especially after long days. (but if parenting has taught him anything, it’s that he has to swallow his own pain to shoulder that of his daughter)

❝ why don’t you show me your new drawings? ❞

[faithbeatsfate-archive-blog]

your character has passed away, and my character is having trouble coping, so they keep calling your muse's old cellphone. Send me ◘ for the last voicemail my character left.

[proditcr-moved-blog]

Of Monsters and Men sentence starters

"I spend my night dancing with my own shadow, and it holds me and it never lets me go."

"I'm letting go, but I've never felt better."

"Hold my hand, I'll walk with you, my dear."

"It's killing me to see you this way."

"I miss our little talks."

"We used to play outside when we were young and full of life and full of love."

"You're gone away, I watched you disappear. All that's left is the ghost of you."

"Now we're torn apart, there's nothing we can do."

"Just let me go we'll meet again soon."

"I think I taught you well."

"I'll be here to hold your hand 'cause you're my king and I'm your lionheart."

"Everything feels so different now."

"Just grab a hold of my hand, I will lead you through this wonderland."

"I packed my things and ran, far away from all the trouble I had caused."

"We were nothing like the rest."

"We are far fom home, all alone, but we're so happy."

"Are you really going to love me when I'm gone? I fear you won't."

"You're staring back at me like I wasn't there."

"I'm giving you all."

"My beating heart wanting more, but I'll keep it in and keep you out."

"Maybe I'm a crook for stealing your heart away, maybe I'm a crook for not caring for it."

"I'm a bad, bad, bad, bad person, baby, I know."

"These fingertips will never run through your skin."

"Those bright blue eyes can only meet mine across the room filled with people that are less important than you."

"You love when you know I can't love you."

"So I think it's best we both forget before we dwell on it."

"Said I could never get there, but I'm already there."

"All eyes on me."

"I push you away, although I wish you could stay."

"So many words left unsaid, but I'm all out of breath."

"I am sorry this is always how it goes."

"I should eat you up and spit you right out."

"I should not care but I don't know how."

"I am sorry for the trouble, I suppose."

[myfavaesthetic]

[proditcr-moved-blog]

myfavaesthetic:

requested/ Grant Ward (agent of shield)