i stayed up way too late making this

You know,
I get drunk when it hurts
and sometimes it’s a blade to the skin.
When I’m angry I kick and scream,
I break things just for the hell of it,
just to see something as broken as I am.
Someone touched me too soon,
apparently blood isn’t thicker than water.
I was left before I breathed my first breath of life,
I never felt as though I was somebody’s daughter.
I only feel useful when I’m being used
and I crave to be hurt again,
sick right?
I stay up late at night
contemplating taking my life,
I count backwards,
then I find myself at zero again with the same dreadful feeling lingering over my head.
I don’t eat enough
or I eat too much,
either way I turn away from the mirror.
I push those closest to me away,
intimacy issues crawling out of my chest.
I will turn you into me,
I will make you ugly,
run while you can still leave.
—  I promise you don’t want to ‘get to know’ me.
for him. (after tronnor broke up)

We were runnin’ so fast
And we never looked back
And whatever I lacked, you made up
We made a really good team
Said I’m never gonna leave
We had this crazy chemistry
Between us

Jumped into your car anytime we were bored
Wearing anything and everything that you ever wore
Making new clichés on own little tour
Let’s ride

You never should’ve said I love you now I’ve left you blue
Remember all the shooting stars and all the silver moons?
Dirty, messy shades of purple out of red and blue
Bet you wish you didn’t know me, now you’re lonely
I’ll always miss you
I’ll always miss you, you

We were staying up late
On our private little dates
Staying over your place, how cheesy
And we took jokes way too far
Cause sometimes loving’s too hard
I think we might be better apart
We are, we are, we are

You never should’ve said I love you now I’ve left you blue
Remember all the shooting stars and all the silver moons?
Dirty, messy shades of purple out of red and blue
Bet you wish you didn’t know me, now you’re lonely
I’ll always miss you
I’ll always miss you, you

We weren’t a commercial for everyone else
We went out for coffee and kept to ourselves
We made little homes out of 3 star hotels
And I know what you’re feeling
Hope you’re healing as well

You never should’ve said I love you now I’ve left you blue
Remember all the shooting stars and all the silver moons?
Dirty, messy shades of purple out of red and blue
Bet you wish you didn’t know me, now you’re lonely
I’ll always miss you
I’ll always miss you, you

Send ☼ + a ship and i’ll...
  • who would be the one to randomly adopt a puppy without consultation 
  • who would force the other to take aesthetic pictures of them 
  • who would do stuff they think is stupid just to make the other one happy 
  • who picks out the horror movies to watch just so the other will cling to them 
  • who is constantly studying and who is constantly trying to distract them 
  • who initiates the facetime calls whenever they’re separated 
  • who is more likely to storm out after a fight and who is more likely to cry when they do 
  • who stays up way too late binge-watching their favorite shows 
  • who bites the other’s ear when they’re feeling frisky 
  • who sprays the other with water when they’re washing the car 
  • who has more fun decorating the house during holidays 
  • who is more likely to give the silent treatment when they’re mad at the other 
  • who plays with the others’ hair more 
  • who is more likely to climb all over the other one when they’re bored
  • who tries to kiss the other as often as they can 
  • who pouts when the other one tells them to shut the fuck up
  • who initiates the sex and who walks away when the other is riled up  
  • who always forgets the umbrella and who holds it when they actually have one 
  • who demands showering first in the mornings 
  • who sneaks into the shower with the other one in the mornings 
  • who prefers riding the roller coasters and who prefers playing the games
  • who will text the other one thirty times in a row until they respond 
  • who always forgets to charge their phone overnight 
  • who comes up behind the other and slide their hands into their back pockets
  • who tries to get hugs from the other as often as they can .
  • who is louder and who constantly has the tell the other to be quiet 

me, sitting in a car parked on the street in front of brandon mull’s house in the middle of the night, alternating between blaring the car horn and screaming into a megaphone: WHERE IS VANESSA!!!! WHERE IS ELISE!!!!!!! WHERE IS MARA!!!!!!! WHE

  • Mystic Messenger: Oh it's getting late don't stay up playing the game too long ^^
  • Mystic Messenger: Make sure you eat! Three meals a day okay?? ^^
  • Mystic Messenger: Oh by the way you have chatrooms at 11pm, 1am, 3am, and 7am tonight ^^
  • Mystic Messenger: Oh I know you're about to eat but you have a new chatroom available ^^
  • Mystic Messenger: haha you will never leave
His Own Insignificance

Originally posted by boogiecore

His fingers hovered over the keypad beside your apartment door. Gray knew the code by heart ever since he and the rest of the AOMG crew had helped you move in a few months ago. Even with all of the stress and long days he’d put in at the studio lately, Gray hesitated dropping by unannounced like the rest of the guys did.

I hope she’s not asleep…

But his panic subsided even before he looked at his watch. 2am. He cracked a smile knowing you would be awake. You always stayed up too late.

It had only been a year since Jay first introduced you but Gray had memorized your habits by now. The way you did laundry whenever you were stressed or your love affair with coffee or how you genuinely enjoyed his terrible jokes though you would never admit it. Everything. There was something about you that always seemed to make sense to him. He could depend on you to be yourself and that was reassuring.

He let out a deep breath before punching in the code and slipping into your apartment. You were lounging on the couch in a pair of old sweats and a t-shirt; a diminishing bowl of popcorn nestled on your lap as you absently watched a drama on the television. Gray felt his chest tighten a bit. You looked so heartbreakingly beautiful to him that he didn’t want to disturb you.

“It’s just me,” he said quietly. Part of him hoped you wouldn’t notice so he could stare at you a moment longer but you always noticed Gray.

You looked up at him, your smile touching your eyes as you took in how sweet he looked when he was exhausted. You patted the space beside you on the couch. You didn’t have to ask him twice. You shifted a bit as he sunk into the cushion until there was a comfortable space between the two of you.

It had just occurred to Gray that he hadn’t thought of a reason to give you for his visit on the short walk from the studio. He wracked his brain trying to come up with a decent excuse. Silence settled between the two of you that was only broken by the sound of the drama’s end credits playing.

“You look stressed,” you said.

“A bit.”


He nodded. You knew he wanted to talk but getting anything out of Gray when he was upset took some prompting.

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

“There isn’t much to tell. Deadlines coming up, compositions that aren’t turning out, practicing my set for this tour, more deadlines. Oh, did I mention deadlines?” You both chuckled.

“You’re deflecting the real issue,” you said.

You put the now empty popcorn bowl on the coffee table and turned to face him completely. Your arms wrapped around your legs as you propped your chin up on your knees and gave Gray your undivided attention.

Gray sighed and rubbed his eyes; the extent of his exhaustion setting in. It hadn’t occurred to him that as he had been getting to know your habits, you had been observing his too.

“Aish! You know me too well,” he muttered. His posture slumped when you didn’t respond. Your silence was your coup de grâce; the final push he needed before his unfiltered thoughts began pouring out to you.

“You’re right. It’s not just work. It’s everything,” he started. “The day I met Jay was one of the best days of my life because I never thought I would work with someone so focused and inspiring about music outside of an occasional collaboration. He makes it look so effortless. All those hours in the studio and people still call him lazy because the pressure just melts off of him.”

He was aware that he was rambling. In truth, his frustrations had almost nothing to do with Jay but he couldn’t stop himself nor did it seem like you wanted him to. Your concentration was unwavering.

“Talking with Jay was like having clarity for the first time in years about what I wanted to do. I didn’t want to be just ‘Gray the producer’ or 'Gray the songwriter.’ I wanted to be in the center of it all; on stage, my stage, with my fans cheering me on.

"I know it sounds selfish but for once I wanted to write music for myself instead of watching someone else perform it. I was given an opportunity to do that and it was everything that I expected thanks to the guys…,” Gray’s thoughts trailed off momentarily. He looked up at you with a half smile but he could feel the sadness in his eyes betraying him.

“But now whenever I go into the studio to work on new stuff it’s like nothing comes out right. I just sit at my keyboard and my mind goes blank because nothing I write is good enough. I just choke.” He fidgeted with his hands out of frustration. “I never choke.”

His words were getting strained as he struggled to keep himself composed. It wasn’t pride that kept him from crying in front of you but rather his need to keep you as happy as possible. You weren’t completely separate from his work but you were about as uninvolved as he could manage to keep you. Spending time with you was his escape from those deadlines that he often overworked himself for and there were days when the promise of seeing you was the only thing that kept him going.

You jumped up from the couch without a word and quickly shuffled down the hallway. You were back before Gray could follow you with an old blanket folded haphazardly underneath your arm.

“Come with me.”

A confused Gray tilted his head questioningly.

“Where exactly are we going at this hour?”

“First of all, Gray, we live in Seoul: the city that actually never sleeps. Don’t believe what they say about New York City.” Gray rolled his eyes at you.

“You act like I’ve never been there.”

You rolled your eyes back at him. Gray was so sweet and soft spoken when you first met him that when he finally felt comfortable enough to show his stubborn, witty side you nearly toppled over in surprise. Part of you was infuriated by it but only a small part…

“Just trust me, Gray, okay?”

He begrudgingly got off the sofa and followed you to the roof of your apartment building. The nights were still warm enough to survive without a jacket and Gray couldn’t help but smile as you both took a moment to breathe in the fresh air. You spread the blanket out in your favorite spot; a carefully chosen place hidden from the exit of the stairwell but far enough away from the hvac fans so that you could hear someone coming.

“Lay down,” you said casually but when you saw Gray’s flustered reaction you couldn’t stop your cheeks from tingeing red.

“I pinky promise that I will be a complete gentleman, Lee Sunghwa,” you recovered. Though he still had questions for you, he grinned hearing you say his name and did as he was told. You laid next to him.

“What are we doing up here?” he asked in mock agitation.

“Shh. You are done talking for now.”

“I can manage that.”

You gave him a playful slap on the arm for making a joke at his own expense.

“Alright, now all you have to do is look up.”

He followed your directions. Gray could make out only a few stars at first. He stared up at the sky, listening to the rhythm of your breathing, feeling your arm innocently brush against his as you tried to get comfortable. He wouldn’t stop until you told him to and as his eyes combed the night sky he began to distinguish more and more stars.

His imagination filled in the rest until suddenly he was not looking at just a handful but rather thousands of feint lights dappling the horizon. The sight made Gray strangely aware of just how small he must look laying on the rooftop.

“You see it?”

“It’s stunning,” he said. “How often do you come up here?”

“Whenever I’m feeling stressed and laundry isn’t enough,” you said, earning a chuckle from Gray. “I don’t know why but there is something about it that helps me put my problems into perspective. It’s  really freeing to realize your own insignificance. That in the grand scheme of things my problems are so trivial and that my aspirations and failures are temporary.”

“So what you’re saying is that I should keep trying because I’m insignificant?”

“I know you’re not that dense,” you groaned. “What I’m saying is that you should keep trying even if you fail because failure is not what you’re going to be remembered for. Besides, the guys won’t let you fail, I won’t let you fail, and most of all you won’t let yourself fail.”

Gray felt the blush on his cheeks deepen at your words as he broke away from your gaze.

What I wouldn’t give to see the world through her eyes, he thought as he helped you fold the blanket. Maybe one day I’ll tell her how much I love her but for now I just want to make her proud.

“Everything ok?” You asked over your shoulder when you noticed he was lagging behind.

“Everything is… good." 

He liked the way that sounded.

Mini Drama ~
Murasakibara & Himuro
Mini Drama ~

Translation :

[in the Yousen locker room]

Murasakibara: [eating potato chips] Yum! Nothing tastes better after chocolate than some salty potato chips.

[door opens]

Himuro: Atsushi! You’re still here?

Murasakibara: Oh, Murochin. Wait a sec. Did you stay behind to do extra practice again?

Himuro: [opens his locker] Yeah.

Murasakibara: You just can’t get enough, can you, Murochin?

Himuro: Atsushi, have you been eating snacks ever since practice ended?

Murasakibara: Yep. Moving around makes me really hungry. I wish I could eat during practice, too, but Masakochin would get angry.

Himuro: Heh. I’m sure Coach wouldn’t be the only one.

Murasakibara: Hey, don’t you think practice has been super intense lately? Everybody’s way too fired up.

Himuro: That goes to show just how committed they are to winning the Winter Cup.

Murasakibara: Same for you, Murochin?

Himuro: Yeah, pretty much. I didn’t make it back in time for the Inter-High, so I’m thrilled about finally being able to compete. Besides, there’s a guy I absolutely do not want to lose to.

Murasakibara: Hmmm? Oh! My potato chips are all gone.

Himuro: Alright, then why don’t we head home?

Murasakibara: I wanna buy more snacks, so I’m gonna stop by the convenience store.

Himuro: Haha! I’ll go with you.

– –

[leaving the convenience store]

Himuro: You practically cleaned them out again this time.

Murasakibara: [munching] I’ll be done with these before you know it. What’d you buy, Murochin?

Himuro: Just a drink and a magazine.

Murasakibara: Hey, Murochin, when you said there was a guy you absolutely didn’t want to lose to, were you talking about the guy we met at the streetball tournament this summer? The stifling one with the split eyebrows.

Himuro: That’s a pretty harsh description. But yeah, he’s the one.

Murasakibara: Okay, but didn’t you say you guys were like brothers or something?

Himuro: Exactly. An older brother can’t lose to his younger brother, now can he?

Murasakibara: Hmm?

Himuro: There’s a very good chance that we’ll get to play against Seirin, Taiga’s school, at the Winter Cup.

Murasakibara: Only if they manage to win their way through the tournament, though. Well, I hate that guy, so if we end up playing them, he’s all yours, Murochin.

Himuro: Yeah. We’re going to settle this once and for all. Speaking of which, Seirin has another really intriguing player, don’t they? He played in the streetball game, too.

Murasakibara: Oh, you mean Kurochin?

Himuro: Yeah. And there was one more—I think his name was Kiyoshi?

Murasakibara: Kiyoshi Teppei.

Himuro: It seems like he’s also really looking forward to playing against you, Atsushi.

Murasakibara: Like I care. I hate him, too. He’s so stifling and overbearing.

Himuro: Hm?

Murasakibara: Even though we destroyed them back in middle school, he’s still playing basketball or whatever. I don’t get it at all. He really pisses me off. Makes me wanna crush him.

Himuro: That makes this easy, then. If we end up facing Seirin, I’ll crush Taiga, so all you need to do is crush Kiyoshi.

Murasakibara: Huh? Says who? If you wanna crush Mr. Eyebrows, then you’re more than welcome to, Murochin. It’s got nothing to do with me.

Himuro: That’s not true. Even if I manage to beat Taiga on my own, it won’t mean anything if we lose the game.

Murasakibara: What’s that supposed to mean? There’s no way we’d lose to a team like Seirin! So what if they’ve got Kiyoshi and Kurochin? I can crush them both with one hand.

Himuro: Yeah? Then that means I can focus everything I have on my matchup with Taiga.

Murasakibara: Murochin, you’ve always got this calm look on your face, but you’re annoyingly hot-blooded on the inside.

Himuro: I wonder about that. All I want is to beat Taiga in a no-holds-barred matchup.

Murasakibara: [sighs] I’ve heard enough. So long as we win the game, I couldn’t care less. Give it your best shot, Murochin.

Himuro: Of course. I’ll defeat all of our opponents, Taiga included. For the sake of Yousen’s victory.

Murasakibara: Mmhmm. Hm? [rifling through the convenience store bag] Huh? I’m all out of snacks!

Himuro: What?! All the ones you just bought?!

Murasakibara: Yeah. I’m still hungry, so I’m gonna make another trip to the convenience store.

Himuro: Hey! Atsushi! … If only he could apply the same passion he has for snacks to our games, too… Heh.

[ Credits to Grimmfeather ]

To do today

09/03/2017, @gradblrchallenge day 4

  • grocery shopping 
  • laundry
  • finish sorting pictures from archives 
  • notes for progress report for my advisor 
  • delete more emails (this feels so good; also, the newsletters I’m getting have terrible customisation options) 
  • make list of lit/sources to order (if time/energy)

I know it’s already 7pm, but I’m slow and tired today. I like to blame the weather (cold, rainy & stormy with a threat of flooding in parts of the region), but the truth is that I got derailed after watching a movie yesterday (Young Goethe in love) and stayed up way too late (again). 

Secret - Draco Imagine

Request: Can you do one where Draco reveals to his love interests that he’s a death eater but was shocked because she was one too?

A/N: I am so sososososos so sorry that I haven’t posted in like a millenium and for or of the reqests I haven’t written yet. :/

It was late and the Slytherin common room nearly empty. The fire was burning low and you could feel yourself nodding off. The boy whose lap you were curled up upon appeared to be heading the same way.
“Draco,” you whispered, shaking his shoulder. “Draco, I’m going to bed.” You were met with tired eyes and the morning voice that could make you weak at the knees.
“What? No stay I need to tell you something,” he pleaded, pulling you back by the hand. Half relieved, half filled with dread, you sat back down.
“I have something to tell you too, I just couldn’t pluck up the courage,” you admitted.

Draco nodded quietly and sat for a moment.
“Shall I go first?” he said, barely above a whisper. A lump rose in your throat and you shook your head: it was time to come out with it.
“I’m a Death Eater,” you choked, nearly stumbling over your words. You looked down at your lap, where your hands sat, wringing nervously. Only when a tear that wasn’t yours hit the cushion of the sofa did you look up. The look on your boyfriend’s face was one of the saddest you had ever seen. “I’m so sorry,” you mouthed, unable to trust your voice.

Now was his turn to shake his head.
“It’s not that,” he told you hoarsely. After a shaky indrawn breath he continued. “I’m a-” he paused, “I am too.” You stifled a dry sob and took his hand. Squeezing it, you looked him in the eye, properly for the first time all evening.

He planted a soft – albeit wet – kiss on your cheek, but kisses were the last thing on your mind right now. You wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your weary head on his shoulder, glad that at last your secret was out.

what the sections do in their spare time

Piccolos: Screaming instead of being productive

Flutes: staying up too late checking tumblr and crying

Clarinets: probably doing math homework or other nerd shit

Bass Clarinets: Laughing at how nerdy the soprano clarinets are

Oboes: Making reeds and getting really angry

English Horns: Making Reeds and being really disappointed

Bassoons: Making Reeds and softly crying

Contrabassoons: not existing.

Saxes: Laughing at boob jokes

French Horns: Modeling cute animals with clay then destroying them, crying afterwards screaming “I’ve become a MOOONSTERRR”

Trumpets: Staring in the mirror shouting insults at themselves until other people are around then they just brag about how they are “all star 1st Chair trumpet”

Trombones: coming up with really cringe worthy ways to say “No Homo”

Euphoniums: Making others feel awkward but being more awkward by comparison

Tuba: buzzing their lips (not on a mouthpiece if you know what I mean ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) )

Percussion: banging on things with a stick (If you know what I mean  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) )


guess who stayed up super late last night to make a matching GIFset from Heatwave’s PoV

One of the worst things to go through is realizing when it’s time to finally let someone go. They don’t give you as much as you give them anymore and it’s upsetting to know that the relationship isn’t beneficial to you as it used to be. I’ve been constantly stuck between whether I should just stay and try to make things go back to how they were in the beginning or if I should let go now before it’s too late and it becomes too painful. A part of me wants to stay and try because I’ve been through so much with them and there is still a glimmer of hope that we could both be grown up about it and work our way through it, but the other part of me is just telling me that it’s not worth it because I am truthfully and utterly worn down by them - worn down by their constant selfishness and need for attention, which they would never admit to. Always masked by their extreme stubbornness and need to be the one in charge. Always offended by anyone or any small thing that goes against what they’re not used to hearing or feeling. A part of me feels guilt for trying to just get up and leave, but when it’s time to let go of toxicity, that stuff always hurts, right?

Regrets (Minho)

{Requested by @purplestrawberri}

Request/description: Hi Lovely~ May I ask for an imagine where the reader gets cheated on by Minho in the Glade, and afterwards he regrets everything, but it’s too late because Newt confesses his love to the reader, and Minho, even in Paradise still regrets cheating?

Warnings: Cheating

Word count: 691


You couldn’t sleep some nights, so you usually took a walk. It was one of those nights. You sighed and pushed your way through the deadheads, making your way to the Runners hut. Minho usually stayed up late working in there, and you hope that’s where he was tonight.

You walk a little further, knowing that you were close to the hut. But, instead, you stop mid-step and let your heart shatter and fall to the ground.

His mouth. It was on hers, and he wasn’t pulling away.

“Minho?” You question with a shaking voice.

Your hurt voice cuts through the thick silence and you step out from behind a tree. Minho rips his lips off of Teresa’s and stares at you with wide eyes.

“Y/N!” he exclaims. He turns to you and Teresa crosses her arms. You swear you can see her smug smile even in the dark. “What are you doing here?” Minho says nervously and scratches the back of his head.

Your fingers curl into a fist and then relax, as you were trying to calm yourself. But it wasn’t working. You were angry, heartbroken and confused.

“Nothing anymore,” you growl at him and turn on your heel. You wouldn’t cry in front of him.

“Wait,” Minho says and grabs your arm. You yank it out of his grip and storm away.

He didn’t follow.


It’d been months since you found Minho with Teresa. The image still carried a sting. Whenever you looked at him, all you could see was her. And he never apologized for it either. He didn’t fight or go after you, didn’t try. So you left.

During the months that you spent trying to find the pieces of your broken heart, you grew closer to Newt. He was a better friend than you’d ever had before, and without realizing it, you were falling for him. Hard.

Minho sat at a lunch table alone, watching you laughing at another with Newt. Teresa was with Thomas now, and Minho had no one. These were the kinds of days that made him wish he never kissed Teresa in the first place.

He missed you, and wanted you back. He even toyed with the idea that maybe you’d instantly forgive him, that maybe you missed him as much as he missed you.

Gathering the most of his confidence, he decided that he would tell you how sorry he was and hope for the best.

So that night, after the bonfire and celebration for the new Greenie, he followed you into the Homestead, intending to stop you before you went to bed.

But, when Minho turned the corner, Newt was there. Minho stopped, stepped behind the corner before you saw him, and listened.

“What did you want to talk about, Newt?” You ask innocently.

“I’ve liked you for a long time, Y/N,” he says nervously and scratches the back of his neck. “And I think I’m in love with you. N-now you don’t have to say anything because I know you must not feel the same-”

There’s a pause and in the silence Minhos heart shatters. Minho was silently pleading for you to say something back, something that would turn Newt away. But you didn’t.

You push your mouth to Newts and Minho watched as the girl he loved, the girl he betrayed, kissed his friend.

When you pull away, you smile at Newt and he returns the grin. “I love you too, Newt.”

And those were all the words needed to know Minho had lost you.


Two years later, and you were in Paradise. Everything was perfect there. No Grievers, no WICKED, no running for your life. Just a new home. Everyone was happy…except for Minho.

He watched as you and Newt worked together on the Gardens, laughing and wiping mud on each other’s cheeks. Minho burned with a regret that he couldn’t get rid of, even two years later.

If he hadn’t kissed Teresa that night, hadn’t broken your heart, would that be him over there instead of Newt?

But Minho already knew the answer to that.

Yes. Yes it would be.