inactive

❛     people d i e for the things that they love & i love you, i love you. we say we try, but it wasn't enough & i miss you, i miss you. when there ain't no sushine after the rain, there ain't no p l e a s u r e in the pain. i make b a d d e c i s i o n s that i'm payin' for. 'cause it can be lonely chasin' a dream, nobody knows you truthfully. i make bad decisions & i'll make some more.       ❜

[theholetour]

Justin out here getting thicc and looking good on the gram just to put me back in my place and remind me I am the white man’s whore

[lostcap]

You sleep coiled; tightly wound. Hands are fists beneath pillows, clenched above cotton sheets. You are at war, even in your dreams.

Rest Achilles, the world will wait | p.d (via p.d vulpe)

[midnight-charm]

[miss-hudgins]

[bostonpoetryslam]

When he asks me to name my enemy, it’s always after someone I used to love. What’s the difference?

Leila Chatti, “…Erm, What Is His Name Again?,” published in Cartridge Lit (via bostonpoetryslam)

[cardiamachina]

People talk about us in mere tragedy, as if all we did was hurt and crack and break until time crystallized and we slept a hundred years. But all I remember  are crow’s feet at the corner of your eyes and laugh lines that feel like the gravity of the universe. And I loved you. I remember how much I unfathomably loved you. People talk about us in mere tragedy, but infrequent are tragedies that do not have a speck of hope, a dreg of happiness, a split-second joy. Many times we were tragic. But many times we were happy too.

We were happy too. Seventy Years of Sleep, nikka ursula (n.t)

[leo-suter]

[claryalec-deactivated20160301]

[wnq-writers]

She’s like a ballerina, endlessly twirling, in a music box with a broken melody.

thevalsworldlove (via clairewords)

[justinbiebergifs]

[ninadobrevdaily]

[untilwebleeds-archive]

simpaticas:

&&.                  this was a sweet night turned sour, an evening of pleasantness met with the never - missed tint of trepidation   ;    however, she stupidly stands still on her spot with an active, overwhelming mind begging her to leave the scene before her presence brings an un - wanted attention to her frame, but frozen muscles refuses to even take a step back. an ever - beating heart stops when he eventually turns to her, eyes threatening to widen and feet daring to carry her away as soon as possible. she could almost rush away from said spot   —   almost, since footfalls weren’t fast enough and a small frame currently is being wrapped by a pair of strong arms, a shaken cry emitting past her lips until they turn into high - pitched shrieks as soon as she’s tossed over his shoulders as if she was a rag doll, hands fisting against the fabric of his shirt as a quick mechanism. ears almost goes deaf with an echoing noises, but his voice loud enough to alarm the damsel. “ no, no ! put me down !  –  i will not say anythi– ” a speech is interrupted by yet another shriek as a quick - beating heart easily drops to the nethermost pits of her stomach when their bodies seem to fall from the window, turning her whole figure both pale and frozen. hands are shaken as she knowledges she’s alive, and still over the male’s shoulder  ;   her insides flood with terror, and legs are quick to kick to fight the hold on her, groans of frustration leaving past quivering petals. “ put me down !! i won’t say sanythin’ ‘bout you– put me down ! ”

&&.                  he was never an athelete once in his life, but by how quick he’s dashing through the city, he could be mistaken him for a track star. his physique soon begins to ache with exhaustion, heavy breaths falling from his lips and he’s bound to pass out if he continues any longer  ;  so he’s running towards an alley since his residence is not close enough to reach ( and it’s packed with men who will glare at her as if they were lions and she was a lamb. ) once they reach the destination, he sets her to stand upon the ground, his much larger frame guarding hers from escaping. he’s gasping for life, hands on both of his hips while he struggles not to collapse. “ h - hey, ” he starts through endless gasps, his ocean - like orbs not once leaving her chocolate ones, knowing he can’t, won’t let her flee ( and she’s not quiet bad on the eyes ) for his o w n self. though he won’t keep her for long   —   just until he is SURE she won’t declare his identity and actions ! “ listen ! i have a very   —   very good reason for all of this ... ? ”

[ereans]

you know what i want? a plot where our muses are unhappy. where there might not be a happy ending for once. where they’re not best friends who realize they’re right for each other, or maybe they are and they do, but they just don’t know how to face it, and not in the cute way; they constantly break each others hearts by avoiding each other, by forcing themselves to get over the other and see different people, by refusing to so much as look into the others’ eyes because it will hurt them too much. i want pain. i want them to go through obstacles and family issues and deal with things as friends before they deal with them as a couple because they don’t know how to address those types of feelings yet. and when they finally do get together, when they finally get to be happy for once, they’re ripped from each other again and again. i want a plot with angst. i want a plot with drama, and jealousy, and yelling and fighting and apologizing and heartbreak and i want to stay up to 2am crying about them because they can’t stop breaking each others’ hearts, over and over. i want them to constantly be staring at each other over a trench that neither is brave enough to cross. i want development. i want slow, torturous realization. i want it to break them. i want it to ruin them. i want the underbelly of love, because sometimes, even if it hurts, that’s the best kind you could ever get.

[chaosangel-deactivated20170325]

[dailywomen]

[fujoshi56]

[stydixa]