She was sitting in the back of her truck,
trunk open,
catching wishing flowers in her mouth.
“Wishing flowers?” you asked.
“The seed head of a Taraxacum — The Dandelion.
Sometimes people blow every single seed off its head,
but you’re supposed to throw the entire crown in the air and let the wind guide it.
I need to catch them
to taste people’s wishes.”

You needed to marry her.

Plucking a dandelion out of the ground,
you tore the flower off of its stem and planted the wish in her mouth.
“My dress will be yellow,” she said.

51 years of clumsy sex,
jobless months, child proof doorknobs,
love letters, church gatherings, family meetings,
anxiety pills, road trips and pit stops, droughts,
floods, canvases, smashed bottles, make-up sex, postcards,
diets and binges, museums, dictionaries, photo albums,
dinner conversations, wishing flowers and
her flimsy memory.

The doctors warned you of a progressive disease
that deteriorated the recollection of her words,
her actions, her loved ones,
her life.

The fifty second year brought the confusion;
the time loss,
her lack of reason for missing your daughter’s birthday.
“I forgot,” she said.

You found half of your book collection in the freezer.
When the kitchen stove caught on fire
all she could tell you was “forget”.

It is the season of wishing flowers
and you bring home a bundle.
“Why do you feed me weeds?” she asks.

The doctors suggested cues;
prompts to rid of her passiveness —
to regain her initiative.
“Let’s take a walk,” you say.
She refuses to walk with a stranger.

Her memory loss left you believing
that we are alive only to forget;
that in the entire 53 years you were married,
the only noises left are her screams every morning,
waking up next to you.

But you refused to forget her,
and when she passed away,
you tacked a timeline of photographs
in every room of your house.

Two years later,
you are unable to remember your name.

—  Alessia Di Cesare, To Grow Old With Her

Sterek Week // Wednesday: Sterek Manips

Derek Hale and Stiles Stilinski are top models in Hollywood. Signed with different agencies, the two often find themselves on the same set for various shoots. Although Stiles and Derek often butt heads behind the scenes, in front of the camera, their natural chemistry shines through.

Soon enough, the duo start spending time together outside of work. They quickly become friends, often snarking at each other about their different habits (“Honestly Stiles. I don’t know how you have the body you do when you never exercise and you eat like a horse.”) and their different modeling techniques (“Would it kill you to smile once, dude? I know that’s your whole thing, or whatever. But, I swear to God, if you smiled at one shoot, you’d kill half the population!”).

Their good-natured bantering eventually turns romantic when Stiles half jokingly says, “I hope they make us kiss at that Abercrombie shoot next week. I bet it’d be a blasty blast.” And when Derek answers back, “Why would we need to wait to kiss at a shoot when we can just do it right now?”, Stiles all but jumps into Derek’s lap.

Things are going well for them, both professionally and personally. And they’re careful to never appear as more than friends when they’re in public. When they finally get caught by the paparazzi out having lunch one afternoon, hands clasped together on the table, rumors start to fly about their possible romantic relationship.

Their publicists try to do as much damage control as they can, but Derek and Stiles are tired of hiding. They want the world to know that they love each other and decide to come out as a couple in a special issue of Out Magazine. 

James Potter + tattoos 

inspired by this

“Em, Em,” Lily pulls on her friends arm. “Look. He has a tattoo.”

Emma looks around, and follows Lily’s point to find a Gryffindor lion on the inside of James’s forearm. It’s roaring impressively, occasionally walking around the circumference of his arm.

Lily is staring at it, head tilted, biting her lip.

Emma takes one glance at Lily and starts laughing. “Oh, you are so screwed.”

Lily snaps out of it, looks at Emma and blushes furiously. Unfortunately, there is too much truth in that statement. She looks back at James. Way too much truth.

*   *   *

“Hey,” James greets her in the Prefects cabin as he tries to pin his Head Boy badge on his chest. “How was your summer?”

The lion on his arm is laying down, it looks like it’s taking a nap.

“Good,” Lily says. “Thanks for giving me that radio, it was really nice to listen to some wizard stations, now I feel like I know what’s going on in the world.”

James flashes a grin at her. “No problem. Hey, the Three Jinxes are playing in Hogsmeade the first weekend, want to go? There’s a bunch of us planning on it.”

“Yeah,” Lily grins. “That’d be great, I love their music.” She glances at his forearm again. “I like your tattoo,” she prays she manages to sound casual about it. 

Read More

How is it possible for one to “fall out of love”? It makes no sense what so ever. I mean if you have fallen out of love then you were probably never actually in love in the first place. You can not stop loving someone unless your love for that person is not or was not real.
It’s like a mother loves her child, it doesn’t go away. True love doesn’t go away. You don’t fall out of love like it’s some type of tree, your love for that person should be unconditional and consistent, under no circumstances you should love them. You can’t lose that love for someone it is impossible. Our hearts and souls attach themselves to the people we love. And if it is so easy for you to just leave, give up and say you’ve fallen out of love .. Well darling that was never love only lust my dear.
—  My thoughts

I see new life in your lips
and nose
and cheekbones
And your eyes smile with your mouth
And your teeth aren’t perfect
but you are
At least,
to me you are

Your voice gives me chills
and butterflies
and I smile a little
whenever you sing
but I don’t think my voice
does that to

your magnificent features
somber eyes
with all of the emotion
in the world
in one person

Share that emotion
with me
and I can carry it too
I already have too much
it doesn’t matter to me

I can pretend to not
see the little moments
when you close
your eyes
those worlds inside your head
by a bit of skin
and lashes
Or when
That pin is open
and you don’t notice
and you flinch
but never make a sound
and no one knows
except me

I notice the few freckles
on your skin
That no one else
would think of
when describing you
like this

Please just say

Sit next to me
and don’t
say a word

Brush up
against my arm
in close quarters
and don’t

Let the good
kind of silence
in the air
between our words

I might be a bit
In Love
with you

but you’ll never know
and that bothers me more than

I’ll never be able
to tell you these things
or show you this shitty poem
I am writing at 1:49 AM
on friday
while you go out and
have fun
and make memories


—  feelings at 1:49 AM (by me)

this is big secret okay but

Castiel likes to trace Dean’s freckles and sometimes plays connect the dots on his back, everyone knows that, but the first time he did it he used a sharpie and didn’t tell dean so when dean was walking around the bunker shirtless sam kept giggling and dean didn’t understand until sam took a picture his back to show him the unicorn that was drawn on his back using freckles. now cas is only allowed to use his hands but he’s okay with that

I know that people are not homes and you won’t repair my broken bones by kissing them, but when you hold my hand I don’t feel so alone, and when I start crying at 4am it’s nice to know that you’re laying next to me even if you don’t know how to put me back together, just stay with me as I break, I promise I’ll find a way to fix myself one day.
You don’t always have to understand. Sometimes you just have to accept things as they are. You don’t look at the sunset and wonder how it is possible that a being such as the Sun exists. How is it possible that Earth revolves around it and still never stops. How can it shine so much, be so warm. How it reaches us, and yet doesn’t destroy us. You don’t ask yourself how. You just look and think: it’s beautiful. So it’s okay to look at someone and think: you’re beautiful. You do not have to understand them. You just accept them.
—  E.B.
I stopped writing about missing you and the color of your eyes the first time he kissed me again; it was that night I sat down and took in the reality that you didn’t care anymore, that you are the reason why I’m the person I am now. You said you’d fix me by breaking me and I’ve never heard such a true statement. You see, you left me and I was heartbroken and I put my lips on other people who meant nothing to me and spent most of my nights wishing you’d text me again. Eventually, I stopped crying and caring. I didn’t miss you anymore, I accepted you were gone the second my lips touched his once again, I felt all the feelings I thought I could only feel kissing you. So, thank you so much for breaking me beyond prepare; I had to create a new person and I can’t thank you enough for letting that happen. I guess you have to get stabbed in the heart so many times before it becomes useless. But let me tell you, I’m so much better and I’ve forgotten why I was so sad for such a long time in my life. All I know is I adore his eyes; mainly because they’re brown and yours are blue and I’ve never compared him to you and I never will.
—  A letter to you (J.M.S)
The Present

My mind was never here
It lived a life
Independent of me
I never seemed able
To bring it back home
It lived far out on its own
Never quite present
In reality it just couldn’t quite live
But floated up high
Through the clouds in the sky
Dreaming daydreams
Of times gone by
Or life not yet lived
Living quite comfortably
In my most loved memories
My mind always returning to when things made sense
When I still hoped for love
And the best
And believed it was yet to come
Before my mind compelled my eyes
To shine with sadness
Instead of light
My mind makes a journey
To the dreams of my future
When I’ve made my life
All I could hope for
When love did meet me
On the path that I walk
Toward something unnamable
A life untamable
A life well lived
In the sun and fresh air
Where my goals were achieved
And I didn’t despair
I lasso my mind
Like the moon in the sky
And pull it back down
Telling it so many lies
The present is beauty
The present is life
Its full of joy
And so little strife
But my mind knows I’m fake
And I can’t even pretend
That the present is better than the past
Or the end
When my life finds its way
And my journey finds light
Until then my mind
Can just live at great heights
With the sun and the moon
And all of the stars
Amongst the clouds it will float so far
And bounce between the future and past
And I hope my current present
Will not last.

Original Work: KH 8/26/14

dangzhang said:

Cheiloproclitic and Jasico please ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Cheiloproclitic: having an attraction to a person’s lips

Jason can’t get out from his own head.

Nico is practically sprawled over him, head tucked under his neck and he just can’t, can’t, can’t.

He needs to solve this, he needs to find a way to—

He feels more than hears Nico’s sigh, all hot breath against his collar bone and his skin tingles. Jason’s chest vibrates and he looks down, his boyfriend humming to the radio that is all the way to the kitchen. It’s an old song from a Britpop band and he wonders when Nico actually learned the lyrics but then he catches his eye and he is all soft pinked cheeks and lips pressed together carrying the tune about lovers so blinded that would like to die together.

“Stop worrying” Nico whispers against his heart once the song ends and Jason is still looking at their ceiling like it contains the secrets of the world.

“I’m not worrying”, he tries but Nico snorts and that’s the end of that. “I just—“

“Stop it”, he gets on one elbow and frowns at him. “You’ll do great”

“But I need to help out at camp—“

“They’ll survive without you, Wonder Boy”

“But I promised—“

Nico shuts him up effectively with warm lips, Jason shivering like a leaf with him all pressed up against his chest and his hips. He smells like his shampoo and is wearing his old hoodie and Jason feels everything tighten up inside him. His hand gets tangled in messy black hair and Nico is biting his tongue and all he can do is moan and hold on for dear life. He feels him tilt his head and he adjusts obediently, thankful for the bed because his knees would be feeling weak around now. The son of Hades breath brushes his cheeks, his fingers digging into his arms and Jason feels strung out and helpless and he loves it. Nico bites him again just to kiss him with apologies and he wouldn’t ever hold a grudge, even if his lips are throbbing right now.

“Hey”, he murmurs huskily against him and Jason can’t stop staring at his lips, redder and fuller than before.

“Hey”, he croaks, his head buzzing.

“You were being stupid. I needed to stop that”

“Yeah—“ Jason breathes, looking at ebony eyes that promise comfort and death, all in one swift move. “Yeah, I do that”

Nico smirks, like the wolf Jason is supposed to be and he knows in that second that he will die because of those lips, because of that smile.

It doesn’t seem like a terrible fate, all in all.

When you’re sitting in your room late at night silencing your tears by letting them shake your entire body, and you’re covered in your own blood from future scars you created on yourself, I want you to know that the monsters you think you’re letting out are the ones holding the blade and no amount of blood in the bathroom sink will change the ache in your bones, so please don’t let the voices win. You are stronger than the hollow feeling in your chest. You can survive without bleeding yourself to the grave.
—  For all the boys and girls who have lost hope.

It’s been a while since I posted a picture of my succulent, Frank (yes, he has a name), and I. My mom got me this succulent months and months ago when my stomach issues started to get worse. I was in chronic pain and I wasn’t eating. I was scared.

And while now I have to be gluten-less (basically gluten free) and think about every meal and how much pain it’ll bring afterwards, I’m used to it. I’m used to the pain. And it sucks, and it makes me think more than once a day that if this is what I have to put up with, I don’t want to live. But Frank has grown a whole ton. And I think I have, too. I’m stronger than I was.

I am stronger. I am stronger. I am stronger.