cold hearted is the way to go

@markiplier, I know this is gonna sound like the other millions of posts you’ve seen, but honestly your words are falling on deaf ears Mark. Tumblr is a horrible place full of bigots and horrible people. As much as I like being a user there are far too many people who leech onto drama like this just for kicks. 

I love you and Jack both very much, I know you both could never be two cold hearted people. I know Felix isn’t either. He made a mistake and he’s now paying the consequences. 

Again however, please don’t waste your time setting people right on this website they could go on forever how “you’re a horrible person” and “evil”.

Please just focus on making others happy, it’s what you do best. If they can’t see that then that’s their issue.

Good luck Mark, I’m with you all the way.

I’ll forgive you.

Time will pass and it’ll get easier
to think of your lips and your face
and the way you said my name
The thoughts won’t be laced with anger
or even sadness anymore

I’ll forgive you
the light will go out
and I’ll keep going.

But you had my heart in your hands and God
I could feel it in my ribs,
how much love for you
was radiating from my fucking chest

But your touch was ice cold
and you didn’t know what to do
with a heart that was so warm

So you dropped it without picking
at the flames
You let my heart break into pieces
so that you’d be saved from the pain.

But I’ll forgive you
there’ll even be times
where I’ll forget

But please don’t think I’ll ever lose
the feeling
of your ice cold fingers
on my broken pieces.

—  I was such a fool for you

This December I’m planning on letting you go, but it’s like the wind on a cold day—it sends a chill that makes my heart beat faster, the goosebumps and shivers part of that exhilaration.

Think of it like this—I take off on long runs and I still come back to the place we met, replaying memories like old film reels in my head. They’re already tinged with sepia, one year ago and it feels like forever.

Do you play them back, too? Do you ever miss the way we used to make each other laugh? Do you miss us?
Because lately all I do is think about where I was a year ago, meeting you for the first time and making you laugh, and talking so fast that we ran out of breath.

I miss you this December.
And I don’t want to miss you. Leaving has become less of a distant daydream and more of a reality, and the only certain thing now is that neither of us will be where we are now. The new year will separate us, finally sever that last thread linking us together. And I don’t want to hurt.

I don’t want to miss you like this. Like late night poetry, and the dizziness of a blow to the head whenever you walk by without a glance. I don’t want to be the girl who can’t let go of something she lost a long time ago, or begrudge you any happiness you might find.
I don’t want to miss you like a weight on my chest, like a physical thing resting behind my eyes, watching you as though from far away, watching you recede like my hometown in my rearview mirror.

This December I am letting you go, I tell myself. I cloak myself in ‘I don’t care,’ put up shields of nonchalance and make excuses about work like I can’t be bothered. This December I want to be better.

And maybe one day I will forget about you, like I forgot the first boy I fell in love with. Maybe one day it won’t hurt to see you, like claws raking across my chest. Maybe I’ll get to a place where I’m okay with you walking out of my life. Maybe I’ll be okay.

But what if I don’t want to let you go? What if the idea of forgetting you fills me with incredible remorse? What if I’m tired of breaking my own heart?
What if I’m tired of the pressure of plans and scraping my heart out, of replaying old memories and telling myself I can’t want you anymore?

What if I’m tired of just okay?

What if this December, I’m just yours?

—  jasminawritespoetry, ‘December’ 
What I Dream About

I dream about the moment when our lips meet for the first time.
When they exchange those unsaid words we kept all this time.
When finally reality seems better than my dreams.
When you appear right next to me.

I want you to be mine while you say I’m yours.
I want your body pressed against mine.
Feel your heat in my chest in those cold dark nights.
I want to wrap my arms around your waist and never let you go.

Your eyes meeting with mines, seeing way beyond of where we are now.
Your fingers playing with my hair, making me fall more than I already am.

Your smile warming up my heart. Your silly laugh lighting up my day. My lips running through your body,
pausing the moment,
Making it last forever

You is all I want right now,
My world reflected in your eyes,
Making me smile forever,
Is what I always dream about.

  • The logical part of my brain: of course Johnlock is happening, it's the only thing that makes sense in the narrative. You've believed this long, don't give up now! Have fun!
  • The anxious part of my brain: lol of course it's not going to happen it's way too good to be true you actually thought you were right lmao @ your delusional ass
  • The coping mechanism part of my brain: [rocking back and forth in a corner wearing a tinfoil hat] THE RUSSIAN GOVERNMENT IS IN ON IT... COLD WAR IS BEING USED TO COVER UP JOHNLOCK... CAMERAS ARE WATCHING ME RIGHT NOW GAUGING MY REACTIONS AND HEART BEAT IN ORDER TO DETERMINE WHICH ONE OF THE 666 VERSIONS OF TFP THAT THEY ARE TO AIR ON MY TELEVISION TOMORROW NIGHT

This December I’m planning on letting you go, but it’s like the wind on a cold day—it sends a chill that makes my heart beat faster, the goosebumps and shivers part of that exhilaration.

Think of it like this—I take off on long runs and I still come back to the place we met, replaying memories like old film reels in my head. They’re already tinged with sepia, one year ago and it feels like forever.

Do you play them back, too? Do you ever miss the way we used to make each other laugh? Do you miss us?
Because lately all I do is think about where I was a year ago, meeting you for the first time and making you laugh, and talking so fast that we ran out of breath.

I miss you this December.
And I don’t want to miss you. Leaving has become less of a distant daydream and more of a reality, and the only certain thing now is that neither of us will be where we are now. The new year will separate us, finally sever that last thread linking us together. And I don’t want to hurt.

I don’t want to miss you like this. Like late night poetry, and the dizziness of a blow to the head whenever you walk by without a glance.  I don’t want to be the girl who can’t let go of something she lost a long time ago, or begrudge you any happiness you might find.
I don’t want to miss you like a weight on my chest, like a physical thing resting behind my eyes, watching you as though from far away, watching you recede  like my hometown in my rearview mirror.

This December I am letting you go, I tell myself. I cloak myself in ‘I don’t care,’ put up shields of nonchalance and make excuses about work like I can’t be bothered. This December I want to be better.

And maybe one day I will forget about you, like I forgot the first boy I fell in love with. Maybe one day it won’t hurt to see you, like claws raking across my chest. Maybe I’ll get to a place where I’m okay with you walking out of my life. Maybe I’ll be okay.

But what if I don’t want to let you go? What if the idea of forgetting you fills me with incredible remorse? What if I’m tired of breaking my own heart?
What if I’m tired of the pressure of plans and scraping my heart out, of replaying old memories and telling myself I can’t want you anymore?

What if I’m tired of just okay?

What if this December, I’m just yours?

—  ‘December’
9

             "She’s very pragmatic. That’s what Lexa is. She’s a pragmatist. I don’t think she’s cold-hearted. It’s just she’s realistic and she’s been taught to be that way. It’s a very harsh world she comes from and she’s had to grow up with a lot of – that culture is so gritty and violent and raw and so she just has to go along with that. But I think she feels greatly but it’s like to do the best job you can to protect people, you shut off or you try to make it so people can’t see your feelings.”

                                                                     Alycia Debnam Carey

Sometimes I wish I have a warning sign across my head saying “Please don’t fall in love with me.”

Please don’t fall in love with me, I am cruel, cold, distant, heartless, and unemotional. My guards and walls are way up high in the sky, and it will take too much of an effort for you to climb it up, much more to destroy it all the way down.

Please don’t fall in love with me, I will cringe every time you touch me, and I’ll remember all the horrible ways I was touched before. I’ll always have my slippers and my bags packed, ready to go, and my heart ready to run away from you. And I will not look back.

Please don’t fall in love with me, I will always protect myself first before thinking of loving you, and most of the time I don’t even know how to love myself for me to know how to love you back.

Please don’t fall in love with me, unless you’re prepared to share your one beating heart with me. A boy had stolen my heart a long time ago, and he never gave it back to me, and I wasn’t able to retrieve it again. And if you do share your heart, expect me to be possessive, jealous, and moody for I will not accept any other occupants of your heart.

Fall in love with me only if you’re ready to give it your all, only if you’re ready to battle with all of my demons, and only if you love me despite all that I am and all that I’m not.

And to the boy who had stolen my heart, please fall in love with me.
—  cynthia go // Please don’t fall in love with me [80/365]
1992

he walked the streets
until his feet started to hurt
and even then he wouldn’t stop

born with a weight on his heart
but not knowing how to remove it
he just kept on going and going
his feet felt like they were bleeding

out in the cold, his fingers felt like
naked popsicles and his lungs burned

his jacket was warm, though
and he had his own voice
his own voice and his own way
down to the horizon
past the pressure and the snow

past dreamy storefronts, alleys

past graffiti and streetlights

past parked cars and stalled taxis

past his past and everything


his walk was endless
he smiled when he found a bench

he walked right past it … …

The city streets look different in the morning, the cold air strangles the daylight. The person that I am today still hates the person that I was last year– I’m still learning about how to let go, it’s taking an awful long time and I’m losing a war with myself. I’ve grown bitter about my ways, I still can’t quit my bad habits as quickly as I’ve picked them up. I’m still soft where it counts, my heart is tender and it’s not ready to forgive people. The city looks different without us, but as it seems– I’m still okay without an us, I’m still okay with these chills running down my back. The city forgets, the city forgives. I don’t forget, I don’t forgive. My only flaw, my only imperfection. These tears don’t belong to you, they’re mine. The wind then takes me away, that’s the only thing we share nowadays. A whisper into a busy city, you’re just the scar I didn’t mean to cover up.
—  The Burgundy Poet
BTS Ships as Troye Sivan Lyrics

Note: I had so much fun with my BTS as Views Lyrics that I thought I’d do another :)

NamJin

You don’t have to say ‘I love you’ to say I love you.”


Vkook

And we take jokes way too far/’Cause sometimes living’s too hard/We’re like two halves of one heart.”


Sope

And whatever I lack, you make up/We make a really good team.”


Vmin

Let’s go have fun, you and me in the old Jeep/Ride around town with our rifles in the front seat.”

SugaKookie

Though not everyone sees/We got this crazy chemistry between us.”


JiKook

And it’s driving me wild/You’re driving me wild.”


Yoonmin

You can coax the cold right out of me/Drape me in your warmth.”


Bonus: ARMY x BTS

My youth/My youth is yours.”


I don’t even know what’s going on here? I feel like Derek is holding onto the new pack emissary because the mouthy little idiot is about to say something very, very stupid in front of a bunch of other alphas, and Derek knows there’s going to be bloodshed. As long as it’s not his or Stiles’s, that’s fine. 

Seriously though, why did he get this emissary? Is it because the universe hates him? Clearly. 

Although… 

Although on calm, cold nights back at the rebuilt pack house, when Stiles turns around and smiles at him, his face bathed in the glow of the fire, Derek feels a sense of rightness that he hasn’t felt in years and he knows. He knows. 

He knows that despite how much Stiles drives him insane in every conceivable way, that the boy has carved a place for himself in Derek’s heart, and that together they’re going to be something amazing. 

Derek can’t wait. 

Sarcastic and snarky replies when: Oh I'm sorry, I think you mistook me for....

INTP:Oh I’m sorry, I think you mistook me for someone sweet and shy. Let me tell you just how inaccurate all of your reasonings are. Don’t flinch.

INTJ:Oh I’m sorry, I think you mistook me for someone who cares.

INFJ:Oh I’m sorry, I think you mistook me for someone who wants to cook your dinner and do your laundry. I have an ISFJ friend who you should meet.

INFP:Oh I’m sorry, I think you mistook me for someone who is cold hearted like you. Go take your cynicism somewhere else please.

ENFP:Oh I’m sorry, I think you mistook me for someone who has no vision. Or maybe you just don’t have any yourself. Either way, I got bored of you two minutes ago.

ENTJ:Oh I’m sorry, I think you mistook me for someone who isn’t your boss, and/or lord and master. Now if you would promptly carry out the following duties that your status implies…

ENFJ:Oh I’m sorry, I think you mistook me for someone who doesn’t have a dark side. Wanna see it?

ENTP:Oh I’m sorry, I think you mistook me for someone who tries not to offend others. You seem like someone who makes those kind of mistakes.

4

Jaebum pulled up outside the bar, screeching the car to a halt and lunging out of the drivers’ seat to walk around the car towards the doorway. He found you, shivering in the cold night air, clutching your elbows around your knees as he bent down to meet you at eye level.

“You’re freezing” he mumbled as he quickly flung his coat around you, noticing the long, dried up rivers of mascara that your tears created on his way there. His heart clenched in his chest as he pulled you to your feet, quickly finding out that walking in 7 inch heels wasn’t going to work. He scooped you up - bridal style as he held you in close to his warm body, carrying you over to the car while the many onlookers whooped and whistled in jest at his apparent heroic actions.

“Ignore them” he whispered in your ear as he set you down to open the car door, helping you inside and buckling your seatbelt before shutting the door and joining you on the other side, putting the car into gear and setting off  in the direction of home.

“Are you mad at me?” you whimpered, looking at his hand resting on the gear stick as he shifted it to third gear.

“No” he paused, taking a deep breath and concentrating on the late Friday night traffic. “You just, scared me.”

“It’s not like I was going to die. Everyone gets drunk Jae” you sighed as you sank yourself down into the seat, watching him take the familiar turns and roads to your apartment.

“That’s not what I meant. I thought I’d lost you, (Y/N). You still don’t believe me, right?” he looked at you as he parked the car in front of your place, pulling the hand-break up and switching the engine off.

“I do believe you. I was just, angry.” you looked down to the car floor as more pitiful tears began threatening to fall down your cheeks. Jaebum clicked his tongue before ejecting both of your seatbelts, hopping out of the car and running around to help you out too, taking you in his arms once again after locking the car and carrying you up to your apartment. He used the spare key you gave him many months ago to let you both in, helping you remove your shoes before lifting you into your bedroom.

“Lets get all this muck of your face and then get a good nights sleep. You’re gonna have one hell of a hangover tomorrow.” he gave you a sleepy smile, referring to your make-up as he pulled out your removal wipes from your vanity - diligently cleansing your face as gently as he could.

He stood up, motioning for you to put your arms in the air as he pulled your dress off you, un-doing your bra and removing his shirt to put it on you before taking off his jeans and rolling you on to your side in case you would vomit in the middle of the night. He snuggled up behind you, letting his hands place themselves on your hips as he pulled his body closer to you, finally being right where he wanted to be after all the mess that happened.

“Jae?”

“What is it baby?”

“I’m sorry, I love you. So much”

He gently kissed your neck, pressing his lips flush against your skin and letting them linger there for longer than usual.

“I love you too. Close your eyes and go to sleep baby. I’m not going anywhere, so just sleep now”.

THIS BOOK IS GOING TO BE MY UNDOING.

THEY BOTH LOVE ANAKIN SO MUCH.  THEY’RE BOTH TRYING TO GIVE HIM EVERYTHING THEY THINK HE DESERVES.  THEY’RE BOTH COMING FROM SUCH A GOOD-HEARTED PLACE AND THEY’RE BOTH WRONG ABOUT WHAT ANAKIN IS MEANT FOR, WHAT CAN SAVE HIM.

THIS BOOK IS INCREDIBLY AWARE OF THE PARALLELS AND COMPARISONS IT IS DRAWN, IT MAKES SOME VERY POINTED FORESHADOWING THAT IS IMPOSSIBLE TO MISS.

THERE’S NO WAY THE REPEATED AND VERY DELIBERATELY TEXTUAL REPETITION OF THE WAY THEY BOTH SAY THEY LOVE ANAKIN ISN’T MEANT TO BE PARALLELED, YOU WILL PRY THIS FROM MY COLD DEAD HANDS.

I’M GOING TO LAY DOWN AND CRY FOR AWHILE ABOUT MY STAR WARS FEELINGS.

my house headcanons
  • gryffindor: bonfires with friends, heart pounding and sweaty palms, being terrified but just going for it, leather jackets, combat boots, flannel shirts, holey jeans, cutting holes in old tees, tees w/bands or things you like, baseball caps + beanies, beat up converse, tank tops when it’s too cold out, weird outfits that end up looking great or terrible (but usually great), weeds (esp. the flowery ones), four leaf clovers, going apple picking, corn mazes + scarecrows, laughing at scary movies/haunted houses, goosebumps books, going all-out for halloween, stepping on crunchy leaves, the way everything looks when all the trees are different colors in fall, really intense/fast-paced relationships, abrupt endings, angry tears, not calling first, pride, songs that pump you up + make you think you can do anything, making everything a contest, skinned knees + bloody knuckles, raw emotion, really graphic/detailed tattoos, finger/foot tattoos, not giving a shit that everyone hates something if you like it, others’ dislike making you do it more, making a ton of plans but never following them + winging it, spontaneous road trips, long night drives, jumping in a lake in the middle of winter, walking on a frozen pond, short hair/pixie cuts or always keeping it back, borrowing chapstick (and always needing it), coffee w/lots of sugar half the time and black the other, only thinking in extremes, not thinking + just doing, always knocking shit over but managing to catch it/never breaking it, reading summaries of everything for class, journals half-finished, super chocolatey ice cream, not having a plan for life but taking a chance
  • ravenclaw: passing notes in class, love letters, astronomy, sweaters, anything knitted, poor patching jobs, mismatched buttons, ironed button shirts w/the sleeves rolled perfectly, dozens of cross-outs in handwritten work, paper painted w/tea, typewriter font, forget-me-nots, rainy/gloomy days, dresses w/tights, twirling in dresses, wearing stuff with pockets just so you don’t have to carry a purse, sunhats, mary janes, knee socks, shorthand notes from writing so much, telling jokes with your friends that make no sense to others, tons of blankets, singing really loud when you think you’re alone, indie/piano music, metaphors, a bunch of small random tattoos, one or two really deep loves, either going everywhere alone or with two best friends, braids, purposely messy hair, light brown hair, hair dyed bright colors, biting/picking your nails when you’re nervous, hot tea, overthinking/worrying + regretting, ballet, either really graceful or really clumsy, tripping but acting like you didn’t, classic literature, diaries, mint chocolate chip ice cream, being born into affluent families
  • slytherin: whispering and laughing with your friends, hair always looking perfect, black lace dresses, leather boots, studded clothes, thigh-highs, wearing heels even when it’s impractical but refusing to complain, wearing stuff without pockets + then keeping stuff in your bra/boots, organized desks w/nothing out of place, cursive handwriting, ivy, pine trees, black/white roses, white candles, upside-down crosses, one whole day spent in bed + overworking the next, locking yourself away for long periods, the calm as snow falls, falling asleep not touching but waking up wrapped around each other, vultures, angry songs, either no tattoos or a lot (of words/sayings), rolling your eyes but secretly identifying with things, being the dumper, short relationships, breaking up w/someone because you’re scared when it gets serious, black hair, blonde hair that’s almost white, purple/black lipstick, black coffee, always poised/collected on the outside, breaking down for .2 seconds in front of someone and berating yourself for it, acting like an asshole because you’re insecure/uncomfortable, feeling terrible for betraying someone years after + going to them in the middle of the night to apologize, edgar allan poe stories, russian poetry, everything typed, italian ice/gelato, working your way to the top no matter what it takes
  • hufflepuff: laughing so hard you can’t breathe and your sides ache, daisies + wishy flowers, sunflower seeds, watermelon, sundresses, polka dots, bright colors, jean jackets/shorts, rompers, patterned tights, snapbacks, taking the fall for someone, underdogs, smiling when you want to cry, not complaining because someone else is having a worse day, breezy spring days, hot summer beach trips, seed-spitting contests, guilt over something that’s not your fault, hugging stuffed animals/pillows, canaries, always humming + dancing around, upbeat pop/cute acoustic, one or two really meaningful tattoos/matching tattoos with someone, trying to walk barefoot outside but regretting it (then walking carefully on your toes), messy + super curly hair, golden blonde hair, freckles, dimples, a small gap in your teeth, fruity flavored lipgloss/light pink lipstick, cold drinks, being the first to text, grouptexts, twister, reading to little kids, shel silverstein, making scrapbooks/photo albums, vanilla ice cream w/rainbow sprinkles + whipped cream, sherbet ice cream, settling for the middle if being the best means cheating
8

She’s very pragmatic. That’s what Lexa is. She’s a pragmatist. I don’t think she’s cold-hearted. It’s just she’s realistic and she’s been taught to be that way. It’s a very harsh world she comes from and she’s had to grow up with a lot of — that culture is so gritty and violent and raw and so she just has to go along with that. But I think she feels greatly but it’s like to do the best job you can to protect people, you shut off or you try to make it so people can’t see your feelings.

The days will go unchecked. The nights will lose many hand knitted blankets. You’re supposed to feel cold when winter strikes right before we can truly feel anything. Some nights are colder than others, some mornings we’ve mentally checked out. I don’t know which part of the sun you’ve picked to blend with your smile, but if the world’s rose still grows for all of us– if love is as strong as proclaimed– don’t worry sweetheart, it’s only going to get better after the storm settles and the rose becomes a spectacular garden of only you. There’s something about the way you smile that makes my heart beat faster, and yes, I fell in love with you because you loved me when I couldn’t love myself. Know that I will kiss all your brokenness and stitch you up with my teeth. I’d pull you together with my pulse and never ask you to be anything else. I’ll wear your hands so they can feel the whole sky looking at you without crying, because thorns were meant for holding your sadness together..and darling, I’ll never stop looking your way.
—  A small hope that grows
// The Ate & The Bunso