fistful of sound

Fingers dragged along the wall of a hallway they had never been through until they reached a door at the end of it. A voice changer was activated before they knocked three times on the bedroom door. Each collision with the door was slow but loud. A long pause before the their fist collided again and the sound echoed through the house. 



So I used to do this thing, where if I was in over my head, I was about to do something stupid or I was about to get in deep trouble, I would tense my whole body up until I could feel nothing. I literally wouldn’t be able to feel anything, not even making my hand into a fist. Now I know this sounds crazy, and maybe it is, but that’s how I dealt with things that were just too much to handle. I learned how to stop doing that though, I learned how to instead of putting them aside, I learned how to deal with it in the moment, but lately, I’ve been so stressed and frustrated. The other day I found myself completely and utterly numb. I was shocked, I hadn’t done this since I was in high school coexisting with all my peers. I started a new job that is commission based, and if you don’t know what that is, Google it then come back and continue reading. Anyways, not having money when you work comission really freaking sucks. This new job is killing me, I’m overworked and I’m not really showing a whole lot from it. Now not only is this going on, but my mom also dumped my sister on me during Thanksgiving. That’s not a bad thing in any sense, but it is a huge inconvenience and here’s why. My sister has a special needs disability. She has asbergers, it’s a high functioning disability that is borderline autism. Now, I love her to death and will always be there, but with my mom just leaving her in my hands over the holiday. It gets to be a little much. Obviously I can barely take care of myself, so what makes her think I can take care of another person? Especially someone who is high maintenance and needs someone with more experience to take care of her. It’s basically like I became a mother/caretaker overnight, and I am in NO WAY ready for that. Another thing that is happening is I’m super lonely. I guess now that I think about it, I’ve always had someone growing up. Whether it be a boyfriend, a best friend or a sibling. There has just always been someone there. I honestly just wish I had someone I could text, call, or even skype like I used to do back in high school. I miss having someone to go out and do stuff with. I’ll admit, I miss having a boyfriend. I miss being able to invest in someone emotionally. Giving myself to them, and falling for them, but I moved to Arizona a year ago. Now I have all new friends, and they’re all fantastic. The only thing is, they’re all married, engaged or just have a significant other. I almost feel left out. I don’t mind being left out, I’m used to it. Kinda. I miss having single friends to do stuff with. Looking back, I’m in a much better place now and having a boyfriend back then was just a pass time, but here and now I think I’m ready to actually be serious and find a faithful man with Jesus in his heart. I want an emotional and spiritual bind between us. I long for the affection of not only us but for Jesus. I want to feed off his faith and watch him feed off mine. I just want to be in love again. Not with someone who treats me poorly, but with someone who will go out of their way to make sure I’m being fed Jesus in the right way. Like I said, I have come a long way, but it still sucks being alone. I don’t know what’s in store for the future, but I pray it’s better then I could have ever imagined. I don’t know if anyone is reading this or anything but hey, if you ever need to get your thoughts out. You got me. This is just a bunch of jumbled thoughts rolled into a random post but hopefully it’s relatable.

Yours Truly,

paperbearing  asked:

❝ .....You’re better than me.... ❞


‘ i’m not.’

voice was quick, sharp and no hesitation on his lips. in some old tales in the future, he’d be sung like a hero, but he knows better. this blood on his hands, the black that painted itself over his like a thorn to a rose; he’s a man with too many flaws to even feel justice belong to his name.

hands were balled into a fist, and the only sounds he hears is war marches ( they drum into his head like a monster, head pounding with reminders of his mistake ). gray would never come to rest.

righteousraving  asked:

Spider-woman, Iron Fist, Wolverine

Spider woman: This sounds really weird but I love the smell of Mumu. I associate her with home/happiness.

Iron Fist: I love crab rangoons.

Wolverine: I’m afraid of getting stuck in a cycle of jobs I hate without ever being able to find something that makes me happy.

//S O U N D S//

And you said that sounds alright 

You sound so half-hearted right now

And now the sound of her car pulling up 

Well it sounds like we’re in for a ride 

She’s playing the radio with no sound 

Am I flying? No, we’re on the ground

And it sounds to me like she’ll take another round

The sound of her deep breath

The sound of her beating chest 

The sound of her head resting on my blade

The sound of her fingers locked on mine 

That doesn’t sound quite right 

The sound of silence, now it’s night 

The sound of her blind kiss 

The sound of her hardened fist

The sound of her walking dead 

The sound of what she said 

strxngandbrxve  asked:

waking them up by holding them and playing with their hair

send me memes!! ( x )

Kazia and Isa fell asleep on their bed watching the stars from the bedroom window. Isa was between Kaz’s legs, her back was resting against Kazia’s front as the two slept sitting up.

Kazia awoke fist, slowly to the sound of the unusual birds outside the window, and the soft light in her eyes. Not wanting to disturb Isa’s sleep, Kazia gently tightened her grip around Isa’s waist, a hand going and tangling itself in the knights locks. She hummed a soft tune, and softly ran her hand through Isa’s hair.

Her humming turned into quiet singing and her hand twirled and lightly tugged on Isa’s hair. Kazia was content, she was happy. Just as Kaz pressed a kiss to the top of Isa’s head, the woman blinked lazily and smiled up at her. “G’morning love.” “Good morning, Isa.”
Fuck & Fist Sound: DJ SK:)IN | sadOsam - gay fetish magazine
FuA talk with DJ SK:)IN about good music for hard and dirty action. MasterMarc: Hi DJ SK:)IN. Great to be with you in your studio. Wow it seems that you're playing your FUCK BY MIX 2015 at the moment. That's the first of your soundcloud sets I've discovered. You're a kinky guy from Vienna playing sound on fetish events too. Please tell us how in your opinion good FUCK & FIST SOUND should sound like! DJ SK:)IN: Welcome MasterMarc. Well, hearing that mix is an answer. You know the fetish audience is very sophisticated and expacting a feeling of very welcome atmosphere and extraordinary elements - the whole setting of the location. And of course: an exquisit music that turns on to move your legs- the way you like it. lol. With techno (like the mix we hear), minimal and techhouse I made the best experiences because of their very rythmic and strong basslines, which animates most of the crowd in diverse ways... Some sprankels of hard- and deephouse, trance or industrial can
By MasterMarc

Speaking of Iron Man 3, it turns out it’s pretty hard to smash a fortune cookie with your fist.  They’re very structurally sound cookies.

anonymous asked:

Ja'far, masrur, and judar headcannons for their s/o blowing them a kiss.


  • Ja’far can’t help but smile at such a cute display of affection. He tucks the kiss in his robe for safe keeping, patting lightly over his heart. After a moment’s consideration, he blows a kiss back—his face flushed red.


  • Masrur stares blankly at his s/o for a moment before reaching out to catch their kiss. Once he’s ‘caught’ it, he doesn’t know what to do with it. He walks off with the kiss still in his extended, clenched fist.


  • Judar makes a face. Sounding almost repulsed, he asks why they wouldn’t just give him a ‘real’ kiss, never mind the fact that they were being sweet. He chases after them, pestering them for a ‘real’ kiss.

Netero’s TRAINING Routine | Hunter X Hunter Tough Like The Toonz: EP 14

The Simplest ways are usually the Best ways to achieve Greatness. Netero of Hunter X Hunter is EASILY one of the most powerful characters in the entire series.

 Training Everyday for 10+ years until his fists were as fast as sound 

and while we have school and Day Jobs to keep us busy we can mirror some qualities to make ourselves stronger as well. Todays Tough like the Toonz gives you a Real life Netero Routine to get you shredded. 


Prompt 1 - Steve Rogers x Reader fluff

Anon: Hi there! I heard you were looking for requests? Can you maybe write one about how a storm knocks a tree right into the roof of your house so you have no choice but to knock on Steve’s door and ask to stay there for the night, then fluff ensues? Thank you!

The rain batters your window mercilessly as you sit at your desk, poring through a stack of books that tower as high as the top of your head. You press your fists against your temples – the sound of a good downpour usually soothes you, but tonight is Last Minute Research Paper Night and there is no noise in the world that doesn’t feel like sandpaper on your brain.

“Jesus. Who the fuck even cares?” Slamming your palms down on your desk, you arch your back in a long, lazy stretch, letting out a sigh that brims with resignation. The wind has begun to howl, rattling windows and slamming doors shut with a resounding bang. Whatever’s going on outside has reached biblical proportions. You smile ruefully. No work’s getting done in this racket. Might as well get some hot chocolate.

You shuffle your feet down the stairs, occasionally blinded by lightning that seems to strike a little too close for comfort. Outside, the gale intensifies, bending branches and tossing trash seven feet into the air.

Suddenly, you hear a groan and a cracking noise that makes you halt in your steps. Seconds later, there is a crash loud enough to level a city and your entire world is turned upside down.

You slowly open your eyes. Splinters, dust, and chunks of plaster litter the floor. Underneath your skin, your pulse races so hard it’s about to jetstream out of your body. You swallow hard, breathe deeply to regain your bearings and look up.

Jutting out of the room where you sat studying mere minutes ago is the length of a tree about as thick as a car. Mouth agape, you stagger up the stairs with legs so shaky they’re about to crumble underneath your weight.

The door to your bedroom has been knocked ajar. Inside, the carnage is nothing short of brutal. Your bed is in smithereens, your desk reduced to a heap of wooden shards.

“Oh God. Oh God oh God oh God.” You clutch your head in your hands. “The paper.” You imagine what your spanking new Macbook Pro must look like underneath the weight of the uninvited house guest and suppress a dry sob. Through the gathering clouds of horror and panic, a solution emerges. There is only one thing in the world that you can do now.


“A tree?! Jesus Christ,” Steve’s eyes widen as he pulls you closer to him and lifts your hair out of your eyes. “Are you okay?!”

“Constructivist Theory and Contemporary Media,” you mutter faintly. Steve’s brow furrows.

“I’m sorry?”

“Constructivist Theory and Contemporary Media. I was writing about it. 25 pages. All gone, gone now. Haha.” You drag your hands down the sides of your face and feebly lean against the doorframe.

Despite the gravity of the situation, Steve’s mouth quirks with amusement. “A tree takes out your bedroom and all you care about is your Art History paper? Looks like I’ll have to check for a concussion.” He leads you into his living room, eyes rigorously scanning your body for injuries. “Here, rest on the couch. I’m going to get my keys, and then we’re taking you to the hospital. I don’t see anything severe, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

“Wasn’t in the room at the time. Walked down the stairs. Nothing fell on me. Leemeealone.” You collapse onto the couch and bury your face in a cushion.

Steve heaves a sigh of relief and sits beside you, softly resting a hand on your shoulder without uttering a word. The weight of him feels reassuring, and you can’t help but lean into it a little.

“I’ll make you some hot chocolate, okay?”

You flinch at the thought of the drink you were about to make mere seconds before armageddon. You look up. “No, it’s okay, Steve – please just stay.”

He shifts his legs towards you and guides your head onto his lap. You quietly comply, resting there with your face peering upwards at him.

“How are you feeling?” Steve caresses your cheek as his eyes search you for frayed nerves. His gaze is calm, quiet, but concerned – nary a hint of irritation at being woken up at 3 in the morning by a frazzled girl coated with plaster dust and mouse turds. You muster a wan smile and shrug.

“Terrified of what my GPA is going to look like in two weeks, but otherwise, I’m just glad I’m okay.” You grab his other hand and hug it close to your body. Steve smiles, cups your cheek and leans down, planting a soft kiss on your forehead.

“I’m glad you’re okay too.” He hoists you up gently and holds you close to him. You shut your eyes and melt into Steve’s warmth, feeling his strong chest rise and fall against yours as the two of you embrace. A hand, kind and firm, strokes your hair and your back. Awash with renewed calm, you bury your face in his shoulder.

“Is it okay if I stay the night? I promise I’ll shower first.”

Steve’s laugh is a thick rumble that thrums through you as he holds you even tighter. “You can stay as long as you want. Shower optional.” He leans back a little and gazes fondly at you while his hands rest on your waist, eyes twinkling with a hint of playfulness. “You can blame the incident on me if you want. Say I was training a little too hard.”

You hit him in mock irritation. “Thanks, wise guy. I’m going to start using the ‘Captain America totaled a tree onto my laptop’ excuse for every single assignment from now on.”

The both of you chuckle; you suddenly realize how tired you are and your shoulders sag. As you move to lie down, Steve leans with you and soon the two of you are pressed against each other on the couch, warm and snug. He wraps his arms around you, as if to protect you from any other trees that might want to have a go too, and the two of you fall into slumber.

Preview of Fated to Love-Part Two, Part Eleven

Giving you a little bit of Peeta and you’ll see that he’s quite changed.

I hope to have this finished by the end of the week…but we’ll see…



Peeta and Madge sat across from one another in the empty café, tea cups in their hands, and the encompassing silence between them.

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