karina and me


Since I noticed that I RARELY draw backgrounds I decided to do a 30 day background challenge!!!!!

I hope Darla and Stacy (the girls walking) will keep me motivated to do this! Please lazyness don’t overcome me!

If you would like to join me on my challenge please do so I would love to see your pieces!!!

some supa good slam poems(-:

here’s a list of some of my favorite slam poems because slam poetry is beautiful and wonderful and incredible and lovely and everything

sienna burnett- “U Fine?”

“my mother has a texting language all her own and when she asks, “U Fine?” this means somewhere, very recently, there was another bullet-stop ending. there was another trigger parade.”

karina stow- trigger warning

“i don’t believe in lying to children, but when she asks me what’s wrong i still tell her the storybook version; i tell her that once, a bad man broke into my home. i wish i’d also told her that bad men look like respectable young men–trigger. that bad men will compliment your nana on her lemon squares. bad men write love poems- trigger. bad men smile so wide they will swallow you and you, you will convince yourself you asked him to.”

don luben- 14 lines from love letters or suicide notes

“i came home on thursday and found all of the chairs in the house stacked in a pile in the center of my kitchen; i don’t know how long they have been like that, but it must have been me that did it. it is the kind of thing a ghost might do, to prove to the living he is still there. i am haunting my own apartment.”

tucker bryant- facts about myself

“but being built like a short story is a lesson in finding other ways to be the tallest tale in the room.”

sarah kay- love letter from a toothbrush to a bicycle

“i know about your rough edges and i have seen your perfect curves, and i will fit into any spaces you let me. if loving you means getting dirty, bring on the grime, i will leave this porcelain home behind.”

savannah brown- i wish i was (a flaw examination)

“i wish i was more interesting but that might be one of those things where
everyone else thinks i’m interesting, but i don’t because i’m me and i know i spend most of my days wearing pajamas in my room, which isn’t that interesting.”

phile kaye- beginning, middle, and end

“like the night you thought you were invincible, ran out into the lightning storm with a million keys tied to a million kites, and a clench in your jaw that said, “take me with you, goddammit, i dare you.” and the week you finally reached out to feel your father’s cheeks and just found paper cuts.”

dia davina- emergency room

“dont touch my heart when it’s thundering. you wouldn’t swim in a lightning storm, would you?”

melissa newman-evans- 9 things i would like to tell every teenage girl

“you remember that metaphor about killing you being stealing your voice? sometimes…the world will actually try to kill you. you’ll never deserve it.”

desiree dallagiacomo- sink 

“is that not living? being so close to death that you paint it on your skin?”


i have no other explanation for this besides “i had this crazy dream a few months ago and i had to get it down on paper somehow”

elaboration under the cut, click the pictures for dialogue!

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Sing Me To Sleep

A Demon!Dean x Reader / angst

A/N: This is for Karolina’s Playlist 1k Celebration Challenge ( @loveitsallineed ) and my song was Sing Me To Sleep by Alan Walker. I hope you like it girl, and I hope you all like it too. Let me know what you think. I’m trash for demon!dean and this scene always plays in my mind.

PS - Sorry I haven’t been writing much. The holidays and work are kicking my ass but, once it slows down, I’ll be able to continue my series and write more. I love you all!

Word Count: 2,067

Other Characters: Sam

- none. angsty-ish.
- language, maybe?

Tags: (at the bottom)

*gif is not mine.

Dean wasn’t very much of a singer. Bless him, he really tried, but he wasn’t very good. It didn’t matter to you though. Everything he did was perfect; even his out of pitch notes that he belted all the way to the ceilings of the Impala.

Some of your favorite moments were when your head rested against the smooth leather of the backseat on your long road trips, his eyes glancing back at you when your favorite song would come on, his voice the last thing you heard as you drifted comfortably back to sleep. Even Sam’s grunts of disapproval and sometimes even laughter, didn’t deter Dean from singing as loud as he could to his favorite songs. It was who you were, who you’d become. It was home, every part of it, and now it was all gone.

Dean hadn’t sang to you in weeks. He hadn’t sang at all for that matter. The Dean you once knew didn’t exist anymore. At least, not on the outside.

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