so now it's up on my wall

I scream to the walls that binds me up,
I claw at its surface until my fingernails snap,
I cover it with blood, my only lifeline,
Then I realize it is me who’s been keeping it up.

So I dig below until I get out,
Out of the walls that keep me out,
Of peoples lives and peoples buzz,
And I see the sunlight for the first time.

I breathe the air that suffocates me before,
It didn’t change apart from how I view things now,
The air that used to kill me, now brings me life,
I’m glad I tear the walls down.
—  cynthia go // Walls everywhere
3

We’re meeting for coffee.
“You always have everything so to/get/her!” I am thinking about how my makeup is 3 days old; so far.

“Nothing ever gets you down!!” The last time I took a bath, I held my breath under the water just to see how long I would have left if I tried a similar thing in the wide, blue, unforgiving ocean, being rocked back and forth and taken up and down. The water is still an abusive lover now kissing me gently now bashing my face against the wall, not pacified by my tears. I’m trying to take showers instead.

“I mean, gosh, it’s just school and life are so much for someone like me. I wish I was born more like you.” I had a fight with my kitchen scale earlier because it needed to have its batteries changed right around the same time as I did too.

“There’s nothing that can stop you it’s like you don’t even care what comes your way!” My heart has become the most rational organ in my system but I guess someone had to step up when they saw how broken my brain is; it’s busy building a wall up to keep the last time I felt, actually felt anything, contained; the wall is so strong Mr Gorbachev himself would approve, I’m still begging him to tear it down.

“How do you do it?! What’s your secret?” The last time I got a check up my doctor asked how well I slept and I lied, I said, “ 6 to 8 hours, give or take” there was a lot to take off but it’s her own fault for leaving the ammunition to my trigger-mouth in a pamphlet on a coffee table, no lock or key in sight, it’s not safe for us pistol girls out here. I know all the correct answers even though none of them are right; my nightmares happen so often that my dreams are on hold. I can’t sleep my way out of my mind’s fog. I am nauseous and tired and successful and drained and aged. When I leave the hospital, I love and hurt; to a bystander I must look like I just gave birth but the secret is: I did, I keep giving birth to stillborn versions myself hoping one of us lives.

I smile, and respond,

“It’s just the coffee”.

—  B. Damani || Coffee
Some Assembly Required

Drabble: Hoseok x Reader [no. 2]

[A/N] Happy birthday my baby boy, my sunshine and everlasting light  ❤︎


The sound of keys jiggling in the lock has your head propping up, eyes going wide as you look around the room cluttered with wrapping paper and ribbons, streamers and decorations not yet hanging on the walls. Rushing to tie an okay looking bow on top of the box, your fingers fumble when the lock clicks open and you can hear the turning of the knob. The hinges squeak and the door is being swung open.

“Babe?” the familiar voice calls, followed by the sound of shoes being kicked off.

Scampering up onto your feet, you run out to the main hallway with a giant smile plastered across your face. “Hoseok! Happy birthday!” you gleefully exclaim, jumping on the boy in the entrance.

Your hug is greeted with an ‘oof’ before the gesture is returned and Hoseok is wrapping his arms securely around your waist to pull you close.

“What are you doing home so early?” you question once your feet are back on the floor.

“I got off work a couple hours early, why? You don’t want me here?” he teases with a ruffle of your hair.

“No, no, no!” you frantically respond, “of course I want you here! I just wasn’t expecting you so early…” you trail off when you remember the disaster in the living room. “Don’t mind the mess,” you say once you’re leading him into the other room to where his present is waiting.

Pushing aside scraps of wrapping paper and unused ribbon, you urge Hoseok to take a seat before placing the box in his hands. He unwraps it eagerly, his eyes lighting up when he sees the logo plastered across the cardboard, already having a good idea of what lays beneath the lid.

“Y/N, how did you know?!” he asks in awe, inspecting the pair of shoes he has only had the pleasure of viewing through a store front window.

“Come on, you’ve been eyeing them for the past month,” you say cheekily.

“You noticed?” Hoseok asks with a shy smile, “thanks, babe.”

“You’re welcome,” you beam as he pulls you down into a hug.

“How about we get to that cake?” he asks with an eager edge to his voice, you having promised him your special home made cake, your family’s secret recipe.

“Oh… About that…” you begin, unsure how to tell him that you haven’t had the chance yet to complete baking.

His face falls ever so slightly and you know he’s trying to hide any disappointment for your words to come.

Slipping away with a ‘be right back’, you’re in and out of the kitchen in a flash, returning to the living room with the mixing bowl you’ve abandoned earlier.

“Happy birthday,” you awkwardly announce when you present him with the bowl of half mixed ingredients, the flour and cacao powder sifted together with a spoon of baking soda on top.

His response is nothing less than you expect, Hoseok gawking at you with bewilderment written in his features.

“Some assembly may be required,” you say with a sheepish chuckle.

And he shakes his head at that, a smile breaking out across his face as it always did when he couldn’t believe your quirky little antics. “We better get to it then,” Hoseok chimes with a goofy grin.

Standing from his seat, Hoseok slings an arm around your shoulders to usher you into the kitchen where the two of you spend the rest of the evening, tasting batter off the spoon and licking icing off your fingers.

A (very small) soundtrack for CWU
  • A (very small) soundtrack for CWU
  • Written and performed by reyreyspaceace
Play

A little project I’ve been working on. At first it was just one little melody, but @hollyhark‘s CWU is so expansive, one wasn’t enough. I plan to add even more, but I want to post what I’ve got now, before I lose my nerve (I’m a little shy about composing) Here’s the rundown:

I. Blue Envelopes

II. Dreams of the dark place

III. Dreams(pt 2): Apprentice

IV. Visitation

V. Visions

(edit: VI.Healing and sheet music)

afriendlysoldier  asked:

Why dont you do a comic that is a completely new idea?

because i really dont want to stop this comic. ever since my mental illnesses had become too much to ignore 6 years ago ive only completed projects partially. ive only gone so far with my work before i decide that its too much and i give up. 

im so tired of giving up. im so tired of quitting. of avoiding things. of doing things “tomorrow” and tomorrow never comes. 

i just gotta find a way to get past this mental block. these walls that my brain built up to protect myself are holding me back, so now i have to dismantle it one brick at a time. and its really difficult to unlearn bad habits and bad coping mechanisms. but im doing my best. 

Roommates - Part 5

A/N: Part 6???

Genre: Fluff/Semi-smut/Angst

| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

Warnings: Mild Language


Yoongi POV
‘I have been keeping up an act of being this tough guy that knows what a lady likes. But, in reality, I really have no clue on what the hell I’m doing. Everything just feels so right when I’m with her that my body ends up having a mind of its own and before I know it, I would be making out with her at some point… Huh… Making out doesn’t sound half bad right now…’ he exited the bathroom, and headed towards you without thinking.

Your POV
You were in the living room, on the phone with your best friend’s ex when he got back. Her Ex has been trying to get with you ever since he broke up with her. Yoongi casually listened in on the conversation as he leaned his body against the wall.
“Fuck off” You casually yell on the phone, “I don’t want to be someone’s slut for a day. I actually have a life, so you can go fuck yourself” You hung up the phone and turned around.  
“You are so hot when you’re angry” he smirked. He walked up to you and picked you up. He was a lot stronger than he looked. Your legs absentmindedly wrapped around his and he kissed you. It was hot and passionate. You gasped for breath for a few seconds before reconnecting your lips. You blushed when the two of you parted and he took it as an opportunity to make little love bites on your neck. Making sure they wouldn’t be too visible for the next day when you had classes, although, he didn’t mind if people knew you were his. But he knew how important studying and staying on good terms with your teacher was, so he restrained himself. You moaned and he looked up at you and frowned, “don’t do that. That’s only going to make me want you more.”
Even though you were a beginner, you picked up a few things, “Aww” you coo, “did my sudden outburst make you excited down there?” You giggle as his face and ears turn red, “Who knew you had the guts to tease me? I thought you were a virgin”
“I am, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t picked up a few tactics of flirting and teasing. Besides, who’s gonna stop me?”
“Well, don’t start something you can’t finish” he says as he throws you on the couch. You knew what you were doing, but not anymore. Your thoughts were going wild. Were you even ready? He isn’t even your boyfriend, “W-Wait” you stutter
“Relax” he says softly, “I’m not going to do anything. Let me show you what I mean” he gently moves his waist closer to you, “Yoongi!”
“Do you see what I mean?”
“Yeah, okay. Please move..” It’s not that you wanted him to move. You were just too embarrassed. You’ve never gone this far before. You had no idea what you were doing. If only he saw you as a potential girlfriend. He moved away from you, chuckling.
“What’s so funny?” You ask
“Your face when I did that”
“Well you should know I’m not used to it”
“I know” he smiles, “that’s why I did it”
“Douche.”
“Yeah yeah” he gets off of you and stands up, stretching his arm, “I’m hungry” you say bluntly
“Oh really?” He smirks
“Oh shut up. I was going to cook but you don’t deserve it”
He pouted at you, “come on! I haven’t tasted your cooking yet”
“Oh well” you say as you stand up, heading to the kitchen, “Please?” He says, giving you a hug from behind. You sighed against him, “fine”


Are you guys enjoying the series? ^^ Don’t know when Part 6 will be posted 
~Admin Luna

Trauma is complicated,


it’s not as simple
as being “Something That Happened to You”,
a gift you opened once.


You will wake up with a new post code,
wander your way home whilst
carrying a few of the things you love
to this new place you live in now.


And so you buy fluffy pillows.
You put up fairy lights and have a big celebration.
Shout out the window frames
and tell everyone who has ever seen you crying,


“look,
look how I have not failed myself,

look what I have made
 out of one crooked paint brush 
and the blessing of my determination

.


Look! you can see my smile imprinted on
the freshly painted walls
just incase i forget how to.


Look, can’t you see my tidy home
equals my tidy mind?
its just a shame that i seem to leave
a line of dirt behind me.


So of course, trauma knocks through the door,
Spills coffee on the new rug.
Breaks off the door handle on his way out,
without saying thank you for the biscuits you gave him.


Trauma sends you letters,
without warning for the rest of your life.
Usually disguised as something else— 
a medical bill or a box of photo albums packaged up
and forgotten by your father,
just so you remember;
Trauma knows exactly where you live—


who did you think built the house?

—  L.R

2
Summer mornings,
Someone ran away with my all my stuff
But you returned each and every item
With delicacy and care
You made a bed feel more than a lovers get down but moment of bond and unwilling security
So sheets never felt so warm
After a chilled night undeterred by the degree of rekindling ardor
You gave me the warmth through your hand wrapped sleeves that wiped shed tears, clearing the heart break away
I gave you the best of me after Saturns land in quest for something anew
And now our mask fades a shade
sweet plumped lips emanating its way, touched drips as if my passageway is your Godiva skin,
my life is sucking up the oxygen
from your face,
breathing in all the reasons why I choose to love and love again.
Stay and never leave
Even when these walls don’t seem to support a home where we can talk out our problems anymore. But death will be the only hindrance to do us part
because dare it be it
will be the death of me
before I left someone like you
to slip from my reach.
So I will rest
Now I rest by your divine soul and awake the mornings creek of a new day
Even if our story is still left untold
If our hands still don’t seem to perfectly lace in hold
Or if the room for revision in Darius’s book is gone
Its a new becoming
Where two souls met
After Saturns detour
Both ruled by Venus
A celestial love reborn
Brought to existence
A new star was formed
Held something profound
Something too pure
Something Poetic


We’re never apart
You’re in my heart soul and Mind
~A Sparkling Thought

In light of ASparklingThought,
I’m sorry love…

"That's my job" (Dean Imagine)

How about a cute fluffy dean taking care of reader?

hurt reader gets injured in badass fight and dean patches her up please

Hey guys, so this fic was half finished in my drafts for ages and i just finished it there now i hope its alright! Enjoy :)

Crimson blood dripped down from your nose as your glare tightened on the demon in front of you. You were on a hunt, with Sam and Dean, and now you were one on one with the ugly bastard who tried to kill you more times than you could count.

“Listen here you little asshole” the demon snickered before swinging her arm dramatically to fling you up against the wall. Your back was pressed against the wall, limbs struggling to free themselves. The demon walked up to you, slowly, high heels clicking against the unfloored concrete of the typical demon base; a warehouse.
“I’m going to rip you apart. Then your best bud Sammy. Then I’ll tear the skin off your sweet little boyfriend” The demon continued her sentence, leaving a long pause.
“I’m going to make Dean watch. I will tie him to a chair with your intestines while he watches his brother get tortured” she explained graphically.
“I will kill you” you spat.
“Oh how? From the whole way up there?” She laughed as she slid you up the wall, making you whack your head off the roof before plummeting you down again, but not letting you hit the floor, she used her powers to smash you into an empty shelf.
You winced from the pain, slowly standing up, only to find the demon standing above you. She was going to kill you, and there was nothing you could do, you had one more trick up your sleeve, it was a cheap shot.
Sam and Dean had been locked out of the room while you were getting beat up, but you had one stupid idea that could possibly get you out of this.
“Dean? How’d you-” the demons eyes widened before she spun around, to find ‘Dean’ who hadn’t moved from his place at the window on the door where Sam had tried to stop him from watching, but it wasn’t working.
You pulled the knife from your pocket, and plunged it into the demons back directly through her heart making her scream out in pain as she flashed fluorescent orange.
“Told you” you sneered, as Dean and Sam came rushing through the doors, the demons hold on the door being released as she died. Dean ran at you, and cupped your face with his hands, making sure you were okay.
“I’m fine” you lied, you were in agony. With a bleeding nose, a busted lip, a killer head ache and a sprained ankle, you hobbled out of the warehouse with Sam and Dean supporting you.

You were set on the bed by the 2 men, then sam left the room to get some supplies as dean would use the last of the first aid equipment on you when he patched you up. 

“Im so sorry this happened to you” Dean whispered as he gently washed the blood of your face with a wash cloth, trying to be as gentle as possible. You shook your head at his comment, thinking that speaking would hurt you too much as the pain you were in was insane. This was definitely the worst beating you had got since you’d been a hunter. Dean brushed the loose pieces of hair that were in front of your eyes away as he dressed your wounds. 

“This is my fault, y/n im sorry” Dean repeated himself. It was typical for your boyfriend to blame every bit of pain to come your way on himself, that’s just how Dean was. He done the same to himself when Sam got badly hurt too. It was a flaw, he didn’t deserve to  beat himself up like this but it showed how much he cared.

“No, Dean” You said through your teeth, afraid if you opened your mouth you’d scream. He looked in your eyes, and saw them welling up. He leaned his head forward an placed a soft kiss on your less-wounded cheek, managing to prompt a small smile to cross your lips. He took your wrist, and felt to you tense up from the pain, immediately apologizing.  He gingerly wrapped a bandage around the wound neatly, then kept your hand in his once he’d finished. Dean looked up to you from where he was knelt on the floor before you. He smiled softly at you, before asking once again how you were.

“Im fine, considering. Thank you for taking care of me” You managed to spit out the words, through the pain. Dean raised his hand to your face where he saw a tear escape from your eye and gently wiped it away with his thumb.

“Thats my job” He replied quietly. You leaned forward into a kiss, knowing fine well it would hurt your busted lips but you knew he would be careful. His soft lips grazed yours lightly in a delicate kiss, before he pulled away quickly afraid of hurting you more.

“I love you” He whispered, before taking off your shoes for you, and climbing into bed beside you, wrapping his arms around you carefully as you lay back, pressing a light kiss to the top of your head before you fell of to sleep in his embrace.

The Note She Left

Word Count: 1,970
Warnings:Triggering AF. cursing.
Notes: Let me explain why I made this so Dark, because damn, this is terrible. Lots of people around me are currently going through a hard time ((myself included)) and this is how I help make my own dark thoughts leave. Stories help me. So while this might be EXTREMELY triggering bare with me? Its been on my way for a while now. ALSO, I left the name blank because I don’t know what to name the character…. You can come up with a name. 


Keep reading

Nashville gothic
  • Sometimes when you walk past the Parthenon at night, you hear strange chanting and the grinding of stone against stone from Athena’s hall.
  • The squirrels on the Vanderbilt campus are just squirrels. That’s all they’ve ever been. You are assured constantly by many credible sources that they are ordinary squirrels.
  • You could have sworn there was another club in Printer’s Alley last night, but now you’re standing in front of a brick wall where there were flashing lights and loud music last night. A rash of missing persons reports show up in the newspaper the next day.
  • Girls with green hair and eyes black from edge to edge swim in the river. You try not to listen too closely to their songs, which sound like Taylor Swift at first. Only at first.
  • No-one knows why the doors to the Tennessee State Museum are triple-padlocked at night.
  • The debutantes in newspaper photos look the same year after year: tanned skin, slender bodies, hair dyed so many times it’s really neither brown nor blonde, monogrammed clutch purses. The same frozen smiles. That scar above her lip. The mole on her cheek. The same initials stitched onto polka dot fabric. All just like last year. And the year before that, and the year before that, and the year before that.
  • This one place has the best fried chicken in town, but never ask for the recipe.
  • A man stumbles out of the woods at the entrance to Percy Warner Park, his blue jacket torn and his eyes haunted. He asks if you know the way back to Fort Negley, because the Rebels are attacking and he’ll be missed.
  • At a crossroads just outside Franklin one night, you see a hooded figure standing in the sparse grass beside the road. Your knuckles go white on the wheel and you keep driving. You aren’t that desperate for stardom yet.

anonymous asked:

So, how long until you write Pierre/Percy fanfiction? xP

Listen Anon, I know you think that I’m just gonna type up some crack Percierre fanfiction but it’s not that simple.

It would take a fic of truly epic proportions to even adequately map out the complex dynamics between the Campers. You can’t properly write about Percy and Pierre without including Paulette’s rivalry for Percy’s affection, which is the catalyst for Pierre’s character development as he learns how to connect with Percy more meaningfully than the just hollow pretext of sports activities. 

But then Paulette’s escalating pursuit of Percy further alienates her from the subtle but critical stability of her gal-pal Brigitte (I mean come on, it’s obvious Paulette dropped their friendship bracelet into the lake on purpose JUST so Percy would feel obligated to dive after it for her!) breaking poor Brigitte’s heart and driving her to turn to Émile for the companionship and support, complicating his friendship with Percy- and I don’t think I have to tell you that Henriette doesn’t like what’s going on at all.

CAMP PINING HEARTS IS A MESS BECAUSE PERCY IS A DUMB AND CAN’T READ PIERRE’S SHY TOUGH-GUY SUBTEXT