rose stain

anonymous asked:

A knock eco from the door, there was a decorated rose on the floor and ink stains around it and some over it decorating its petals.

Six opened the door and saw no one was there. He glanced at the floor and noticed the ink stained rose, he picked it up and pondered to himself for a moment. He didn’t know what to say, but he felt flattered knowing someone left it for him.

The Two-Faced Goddess, Grimdark, Lady Luck, the Seer and Guide and Wand-Wielder, the Hero of Light and Rain. 

Frost and Frogs 
Heat and Clockwork 
Wind and Shade
Crypts and Helium
Mounds and Xenon

neverland is something about us.

you love dialogue. classic movie manuscript soul, you lace your lips with elegance. you dance with passion and exhale with a lightness that brings spring to her knees. you hate human sheep’s philosophy, you’re terrified to be a wolf– lately the moon has been your tattoo. we listen to body language, we have been lied to on several occasions. how do you want to be admired? how deep are your thoughts? you are not bound to the earth, a red airy balloon waiting by venus, you lavish in pleasantries, but only if it’s done right. the rare definition of aesthetic, if it’s pretty enough to say, then it’s beautiful enough to be heard by you. how far would you go to regain your wings? angel thoughts. you’re a meteorological phenomenon, the one where rain falls in one spot. the sad parts of you scattered all over your tears, we love them until our hearts tear. where do you keep love? in the back pocket of a lucky guy, your version of ride or die– I’ll keep poetry close, but I’ll always keep your lips skin distance kind of love. you do it for fun, but you also do it because nothing is new under the sun. you love dialogue, our friendship in three words. you used to see your old lover within my poetry, a bit of my words will always belong to you. we may age, our skin will wrinkle some day, our hair will be grey, our vision will blind us, our bones will rattle, but this soul, my version of poetic justice buried into a rose, stained by blood into every fucking petal, inject my misery loves company into the damn thorns– will you still love me when I’m no longer young and beautiful? age is nature’s brilliant plan to keep us in check. I love my youth, I love the fire in my eyes, the passion that keeps us from going too far– the thing about being this young is nothing is too dumb. no amount of hate will keep us from growth. you love lengthy prose poetry and I love that you read with intent to kill hearts until beating sounds like getting your first kiss every second of everyday– over and over and over again, until our smile matches the adrenaline, until the thorns prick a thousand lovers, until the last petal wilts from the lack of oxygen, until our lungs heave itself, it is a conversation of black holes and stars, I am stranded on mars and most days it’s unlivable, but these poems, my dialogue with you is a great way to understand the mystery of the universe.

Stained Glass Gem Mural 💎

Backstage (M)

For the lovely @pocinamedia Admin Kia~ I mean it isn’t exactly “lowkey” per-say but hopefully you enjoy it doll 💕

Genre; smut and a healthy dose of fluff

Length; 2,000+ words

Kink(s); Daddy kink, oral sex

Originally posted by kwon-dean

As you sat there backstage of your boyfriend’s concert with some other random girls beside you- who probably had backstage passes or something, you honestly didn’t know and really didn’t care to find out. The only thing you had on your mind was seeing finally seeing Kwon[Dean] after being apart for so long.

You were trying your hardest just to tune everything out and listen to your boyfriend’s soulful voice as you waited patiently, but couldn’t help just rolling your eyes each time these bitches opened their mouths. They were obviously oblivious to the fact that you were fluent in korean and understood every ignorant word that spewed from their mouths. 

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