lies are like poison

What do you do when you adore everything about a person, but you just don’t like them as a person any more. When there’s ten too many lies and just as many chances given. When you see more of the good in them than they even see in themselves. When you stay up all night waiting for a text back. When you doubt every I love you too. When you just see a future with him but can’t envision a life without. When you love him more than you have ever, or could ever, love anyone else. When their lies come without a thought and roll off their tongue like poison. What do you do when you’ve been cheated on so many times you can’t put a number to it and every day is a Prozac day because without you’d never move again. What do I do?

Because she was the type of girl who needed a blond boy with blue eyes that matched the water they swam in and his icy pale skin kept her cool under the scorching hot sun and when dusk fell she could wander the earth all night without ever needing to borrow his sweatshirt.

But by the time the leaves start to change he’ll have drowned like all their memories and have washed down the rivers where they used to wade and there’ll be a new boy with brown hair and tan skin which is always covered by hoodies that are big enough for them both to get lost in and they will memorize coffee shops and Halloween movies and stain songs with eachothers faces like red wine on white table cloths and they won’t roam the earth but rather each others skin when a storm is pounding against the window and the power goes out but its okay because they don’t need light to see eachother.

But by the time the grass freezes it won’t matter that he’s memorized every inch of her like a map because their journey will already be over and a loud boy with black hair who drinks away his fears will have his arm around her waist and at midnight on new years his mouth will taste like poison and ruined family dinners and bitter lies and his ex girlfriend’s name but they’ll go skating and smoke pot under the snow bank even if it burns her throat and leaves her paranoid.

But their love will freeze away in icicles when he yells at her and everything they cherished will turn to slush and she will miss him but there will be another boy with a bright smile and soft skin and he will warm her frost bitten past and mend all the parts that hurt and they will plant flowers over dead memories and tuck away winter boots. They’ll dance in warm rains and he’ll kiss her on the nose and she’ll feel butterflies in her stomach like the ones that roam the spring air.

But soon she’ll grow tired of him and she’ll go looking again but this time she won’t find anyone because she left all the pieces of herself in his blue eyes or his sweatshirt or his glass bottle or his sunflower seeds because the love that was meant to last a season was all the love she never knew how to give herself and now she’s empty and lonely and sweating in the summer sun.

—  Lost herself in the seasons // 2:09 PM

If she writes, don’t lose her.
A girl who writes will start to describe the curves of your face and how you bite your nails. She will see everything through the lenses of poetry. And she’ll never stop writing. That’ll be what you remember most about her. Although there will be nights you wake up at 3am to an empty spot on the bed, you’ll know it’s because she’s writing about how captivating you looked with your eyes closed.

Do not lose a woman who writes. Please don’t. She will understand how to read between the lines. She will understand you more than you understand yourself sometimes. She’ll notice the slightest change in your voice, and won’t stop asking what’s wrong untill you tell her. She would have read enough books to know where this plot is heading, and so if the relationship ends, you’ll be left with nothing while she will at least be left with the cruel inspiration of heartbreak. She’ll write about how your mouth began to taste like leaving and your love began to feel like lies. You’ll go from being her life to being the poison that won’t leave her veins. She will live on forever as someone who saw the world as details, while you’ll live forever on as just the boy who broke her heart many years ago. Don’t lose the girl who writes.

anonymous asked:

if iron man was a woman, wouldn’t she be a villain?” Why would she be a villian?

okay so the brief summary of the points because i end up fic-ing this. which ends up setting up a complete different origin story, by bending the mcu canon. excuse the sexist language

  • if we start from the beginning, you have toni stark, a young woman who is practically a genius, but is slotted in the “my dad always wanted a son” line of things, gets shipped off to mit as a kid and is looked down on not just for her age but for her gender. there’s some bitterness building there
  • but bitterness that can be disguised later, because she’s learned to be a good actress, as so many women must be. she smiles for the camera, and eats up the hollywood lifestyle that comes from becoming a billionaire at 19.
  • she attends a board of directors meeting, but obie has everything under control, “nothing to worry your pretty little head about” and she think if that’s going to be her life than she might as well live it up. its not like half of them would listen to what she says anyways. 
  • she’s in vegas one day accepting an award she doesn’t even bother to show up for. no need to give the press fuel and watch the news headlines the next day that instead of focusing on her accomplishments have headlines like “stark looking frumpier than usual” or “could red lipstick be the new thing?" 
  • on her way out she meets christine, who trusts facts in her face, your company is selling weapons to terrorists, and instead of sleeping with they actually talk over this.
  • and because toni stark would have never been sent to afghanistan in the first place. nobody is going to respect a weapon’s demonstration given by a woman, so she’s told by her board of directors to stay home and keep safe while they send the guys with the big guns over there.
  • she actually gets to look over the information christine brings up. 
  • which leads to confrontation, and lies, and "i’ll look over it sweetheart don’t you worry”
  • but something has to be done, and one idea that comes up when she’s pretty much drunk as can be is that if she could just get over there herself and fix things then they’d be set. 
  • so iron man is born. 
  • except, the way the press sees it, and the government sees it is strange metal figure is causing trouble over seas.
  • and then obie shuts her out of the company when she pushes too far and figures out he has been the one dealing behind closed doors while she was too distracted by the hollywood life style to notice. 
  • and when their final showdown inevitably happens, its awful and public and nobody even knows its her at that point. there’s no glowing light in her chest, nothing to clue them in (of course, pepper knows because that one time she walked down to the workshop and toni accidently blew out the glass wall) 
  • but there’s no shield agent there trying to brief toni on the events of afganistan, because she was never kidnapped by terrorists. 
  • there’s nobody to do damage control on the media, nobody to make up a cover story about obie having been on a boat or a plane at the time. minor accidents and all that jazz.
  • the press calls the iron man a monster, claims that he attacked toni’s company. because thats what they all saw, dead director and a blown up research facility.
  • so when she stands up to give her press conference, its lies after lies, insisting what a tragic loss it was to lose her “dear friend and mentor” and the words taste like poison on her lips, but the lies are so much easier to tell than the truth. 
  • and in truth, iron man becomes a vigilante, but when you’ve got hydra running the government and  corruption everywhere, the press will happily tell you that vigilante is just another word for villain. 
  • a year later, when senator stern insists that the iron man tech was stolen from stark industries projects and asks if she (or her team) could build one so the government has something to combat it), she wants to laugh, but instead she just smiles and says “i’ll try." 

tl;dr- the summary is women are fighters, and unable to come out and admit that she is "iron man” ends up with the media and press shaping the figure into a villainous one. 

heads or tails

part 11 holy shit

1 | 2 | 2.5 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 |

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“-and what do you think, my darling Juvia?” Lucy asked her, giving a quick twirl and presenting herself like she was a wedding cake. “You like?”

“It’s fine,” I gave her the exact same passive answer I’d given everyone else. I was far too entranced by the swirly mints on the edge of the dressing room table to really notice what color dress she was wearing.

Lucy huffed, taking a keen eye to my apathy and walked over to the ‘boyfriend couch’ I was sitting on, poofy dress spilling everywhere like too much ugly champagne.

“Awww, somebody’s a grumpy-grump.” She pouted, crossing her arms and leaning her chin on my shoulder. “What’s up buttercup?”

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Reflections in a Two Way Mirror

I thought I knew what abuse
Really was. I saw movies where a man Would color it into the
Canvas of a woman’s body
In shades of purple and blue
Outlined in blood red.
I used to wonder why she
Would always go back to him.
I used to tell myself that
I would never be the victim Of abuse because my parents
Always told me that if he hit me
I should run and never look back.
There was always a scene where
The woman would look into the
Mirror and see what was happening
And in that moment she would
Watch herself move on her own
Out of the man’s life and into her
New beginning.

I eventually found a boy to love
Who spoke like lies and
Kissed like deceit.
My lips touched his poisonous
Methods of keeping me from
Seeing what was really happening. When I was young I didn’t know
That bruises came in nude like
My skin tone, or that they didn’t
Have to be on the surface to be
Real. No they could sink in after
Months of secret mutiny against
My self-respect and trust and
Idea of what love really was.
I couldn’t see these in the
Two way mirror that he gave me.

The problem with a two way mirror
Is that there is always someone else
On the other side.
Like a puppeteer he tied the strings
To my heart and mind and wired
Them to the other side of the
Glass, making me believe that
I was moving all on my own,
Making my own decisions.
I believed that he loved me and
He wanted me and
He loved me and
He loved me and

As his act went on for almost
Two years, I grew farther apart from
My parents and I shrank smaller
Under the weight of his thumb Wondering why things seemed
To be getting darker.
But one day he got bored
Of his one-man act so he
Cut the strings and ripped the
Ends from my soul and
Left me to fend for myself.
He left me like a marionette
Unknowing that I was being
Controlled by him,
Thinking that I had been
Standing on my own two feet
All along.