the words are supposed to be crooked

This is something I have been trying to write for months and months. Forgive me if it goes astray from being coherent or making sense… but the last however long it’s been amount of months that I have been absent from your life has been a time of paradoxical strangeness, indifference and outright mental solitude and exhibition at the same time. I write in a way in which I am comfortable.. so if it seems outlandish, false or full of hyperbole then I apologize. At this moment in life, the catharsis of just putting these words finally out is already doing much towards my recovery.

This is for you… but more so for me.  

“…this war-ship is sinking, and I still believe in anchors pulling fist fulls of rotten wood from my heart, I still believe in saviors but I know that we are all made out of shipwrecks, every single board washed and bound like crooked teeth…”

I suppose I should begin by apologizing, mostly to those who cared for me most.. those whom which I was deeply engaged with in one way or another, those who most likely felt abandoned upon my swift exit. I am truly sorry… and while apologies are words fleeting off into eternity, and while I could sit and try to explain myself, I don’t know how much it would matter. You can however take the absolutely barren feeling deep within my guts as an indication of how I feel about the impact I know i potentially caused.  

Sometimes what is most necessary in our lives is not what is comfortable or even right to others. Sometimes our greatest triumphs come from our worst tragedies. Sometimes you just cannot explain yourself, your actions, or your feelings in a way that makes sense to others. And that’s ok.

I didn’t know at the time how much and in what ways that grief would affect me. Unfortunately for others, it affected me in a way that ripped me out of everything from my comfort zone to my existence in your life. In all my endless diatribes and moments of influence and advice, I always advocated that it was okay to show weakness… to lean on those who love you, and in that moment when the reality of my own situation came into fruition… I failed.  

I failed to realize that it would be alright for me to show myself as vulnerable, and I failed to lean on you for the comfort and support I so desperately needed at the time. I failed you and everyone else who needed me most, and when I needed you all most I walked away and rejected what was openly available to me. For that… I am truly sorry.

To ask where I have been… is to look into the ocean.  

“….always running out of fight so I’ve carved a wooden heart, put it in this sinking ship hoping it would help me float for just a few more weeks because I am made out of shipwrecks, every twisted beam lost and found like you and me scattered out on the sea…”

My life has been a raging crashing tempest, mixed with medication.. ups, downs, failures, progress and revelations. I never realized a person and their death from this earth could crush me the way it did.. especially given the circumstances. I spend so much time keeping myself shrouded in mystery and carefully constructed walls.. so I will be as transparent as possible.

Prior to his death, I had not spoken to him in a major amount of years. I had no resolve for the events of my childhood… for his absence in my life… for the things he did and did not do, and everything else in between. Like many and perhaps most reading this, my parents ended their marriage when I was rather young. What followed was years of ignorance, years of not knowing my worth to anyone… years of solitude and quest for significance. Along the way there were flimsy glimmers of hope… a random card here, a 20 dollar bill there, a passing wave while walking down the street… but otherwise he was content to his own, and I soon became to mine.  

As I grew older I developed this sense that I would never really know him, and in his final years I so desperately wanted to. Letter after letter.. call after call… all unanswered… all ignored.. and these fleeting blurry memories in my mind. The last time I saw him, he hugged me and told me he was proud of me. He smiled that big smile… and told me he would call.  

6 years of silence later, I saw him again for the first time… laying in a bed half covered and struggling for life. No one told me he had been sick, no one informed me that he had but moments to live. There are many would haves… could haves.. should haves…  

there are many never dids, never weres and now.. never will be.  

I never got to speak with him because he was never awake. I simply sat there that day clutching his large hands, softly stroking his falling out white hair… and wishing he would wake up and give me that huge smile… that his blue eyes like oceans would gaze at me. Every time I tried to leave that room, I couldn’t… I kept turning back. “He’s going to wake up 5 seconds after I’m gone.”… I had to be physically restrained and removed.

And he didn’t wake up.  

The funeral was overwhelming. Public. And that’s when everything was learned…  

How this person who was a ghost to me most of my life was so much to so many other people. How he was a superhero among his community and the communities of others. How he had helped so many other children, families and friends… how valued he was to everyone except me. Even the governor showed up.. the news… the papers.. … amongst the literal close to a thousand others who did to be washed in the media circus and the aftermath of a life that I was now finding out was actually well lived. Each with a story about him. Each with a laugh. Each with a smile.

But not me. All I had was a hastily put together book of pictures and clippings and remembrances. And even that would be taken from me.  

In the end I was left with nothing… and now all these months later…  

I still have nothing. And all I want is closure. And it is something that I will never have.  

“….we only have what we remember…”

I returned home and immediately went into grief counseling the same day. I fired my therapist for a new one.. I became medicated,… I took advice… changed the things in my life.. my eating.. my feelings.. got a therapy dog.. I did what I was told, advised and ordered.. fired my therapist again… and so forth and so on…. and I needed some time away.

But the more time I spent away, the further I slipped into myself… the further I slipped away from you, and this, and everything important to my life. The more guilty I felt for leaving… the more overwhelmed I became by the thoughts that everyone would be angry at me.. and the longer I was gone, the more I pushed myself farther.

Sometimes a person can live with such regret for their actions that it causes them to perform them more.

I never expected any of this.  

I never expected to feel the way I did. to end up how I did. to be gone so long. to be so isolated and gone. I didn’t feel worthy of having others depend on me for anything when I felt like I was nowhere near able to be dependable. My strength had been robbed.. my ability to be this strong pillar of value had gone away.

This one person in my life, who was never really in my life… affected it in such a way as to completely separate me from everything I knew and loved and my entire existence and made me question beyond reason…  and I will never have the answers I need. I crave. I deserve…  Yes, therapy has been going great… yes I have made many strides.. yes, I have changed in many ways… but…  

Its taken a really long time to find myself here again. To even consider myself able to be here.

Things still aren’t even anywhere close to how I want them to be mentally and emotionally… and they probably never will be. Because he cannot wake up to explain this life I have endured to me… he wont wake up to give me closure.  

They say that everyone grieves in their own way. I chose to make mine destructive to others by cutting the snake off at its head… I just didn’t realize how it would affect anyone in my life it until it was too late.  

And then I woke up yesterday… and felt I was able to sit down… and do what I had been wanting to do for a very long time.  

And then, I logged into my tumblr for the first time in 9 months…  

“…Your hand in mine, my fingers in your veins connected our bones grown together inside our hands entwined, your fingers in my veins braided our spines grown stronger in time because our church is made out of shipwrecks from every hull these rocks have claimed but we pick ourselves up, and try and grow better through the change so come on y'all and let’s wash each other with tears of joy and tears of grief and fold our lives like crashing waves and run up on this beach…”

I spent the better part of my day yesterday going through 2000+ messages I have received since March. The well wishes, the love, the thoughts and expressions of gratitude. the pictures, the stuffies, the hundreds of PM’s… the puppies and kitties..the boobs, the butts, the smiles, the drawings..  the socks and knee highs.. the physical exhibitionist expressions of gratitude… the hamsters and snakes and gerbils..the anons and the faithful.. . the continuing follows and questions and request for bedtime stories.. the small paragraphs from those whose lives had been utterly changed just by spending 15 minutes reading my material… those who discovered me while i was gone and had their lives changed instantly.… the fact that on a daily basis I am still getting all of these, even though I have been an apparition for the better part of almost a year…. and for the first time since March, I felt sparks of Daddy space flickering inside of me. Since March I have been totally empty and desolate.

I discovered in my submissions, asks and pm section… in the 2000+ followers gained while I was away.. People still continue to care about me.. to wonder… to keep me in their thoughts. a truly humbling feeling considering that I expected to log in for the first time since March and see nothing but disappointment from everyone. I expected people to feel like I didn’t care about them. and that is absolutely not true at all. I laughed and cried.. I felt regret… I felt guilt and shame… I felt happiness and love… my jaw hit my desk a few times.. and ultimately I figured out that I do still matter. But then I don’t really know if I do…  

It all just leaves me asking for forgiveness… mainly for falling off for so long. mainly because I know the effects it had.. mainly because I feel absolutely wrecked and sick about it all.  

But what comes from pain and suffering is what you create from that pain and suffering. What is left over is what you decide. Its not easy, its not simple. Believe me.. my life is anything but simple in these last 9 months… but I discovered that this lifestyle will never leave me, even if I leave it. It will always be there, because it is who I am. It is what I am. It is everything I have ever been… so should I come back? Should I… even be worthy of returning?  

I guess I will wait and see… because this blog was always for you. the littles.. the daddies.. the struggling.. the hurt… the lost.. the broken and distraught. The ones just like yourself.. and just like me. And despite sometimes being a total jerk.. despite sometimes disappearing… despite all of my own problems… I always did everything I did to better the lives of others in so that they may succeed. I didn’t always achieve that goal.. and sometimes I probably even prevented it.  

And I am sorry.  Please… please please…. forgive me.

If I could go back to 9 months ago, tell myself then what I know now.. tell myself then how it would all turn out… and give myself that wisdom to be able to handle it all properly, then this would never have been written.  

But what’s done is how it was all meant to go down really, and our mistakes are not our failures. They are our lessons. some harder learned than others. cant change the ones I have made.. I can only hope that I will be able to make them right. I edited this writing 7 times over the course of 24 hours… and something in it probably still isn’t right, or doesn’t say what it should… or… is just…. rambling. Some of you may never understand… or, maybe you do all too well. I have no room to judge or say…  

“…come on and sew us together, were just tattered rags stained forever… we only have what we remember…”

… what do I do?

Do I come back?

2

Pairing: James March X Reader

Request: could you do an imagine where the countess tries to kill you(your baby) b/c you’re pregnant with James’ baby and he saves you and fluff

A/N: I like to use nicknames such as ‘little bird’ and ‘dove’ if you haven’t noticed lol 

Word Count: 882

Keep reading

Wolf

Okay so this smut is kind of strange. It’s super weird and doesn’t make sense! Like, I barely know what’s going on in it. (: It’s based off of a Lana Del Rey song called “Wolf.” So the reader is “little red riding hood” and Dean is the “wolf.” It’s also supposed to be Dean after he gets out of Purgatory. So just mix the two together and this is what I came up with.

 Reader x Dean

Warnings: aggressive Dean, SMUT, no plot, werewolf plot twist and naughty words.

 Words: 2711

      Dim light was flowing through the breaks in the tree’s leaves above your head. The basket full of apples you were holding in the crook of your arm was starting to feel heavy as you looked around. Your mother had told you to deliver the sweet fruit and come home as soon as you were finished. Her instructions had been clear on how to maneuver through the thick trees, but you’d forgotten them a while ago. The trail split off several ways, and as you turned to look behind you, there seemed to be no way you’d ever find your way back. You take in a shaky breath, nervous that you’d be stuck out here forever. The sun was starting to set, which was only adding to your nerves. You decide to keep going the same way- hopefully the trail would lead you somewhere that would offer a way out.

      The further you travel the darker it gets, and you’re about to turn back when you hear the sound of footsteps behind you. Your chest heaves with panic as you scan the trees surrounding you. There’s nothing, but the hair standing up on the back of your neck says otherwise. You swallow loudly, your throat suddenly dry. Again you hear the footsteps, and turn in circles to try and find the source. When the forest goes silent again, you roll your eyes at yourself for being dramatic. It’s probably just a squirrel or something. Once you’ve calmed yourself down, you flip back around, gasping when you see a man a few feet in front of you. You stumble backwards while screaming, landing on your butt in the dirt. You had dropped your basket, sending red apples flying everywhere.

      “What do we have here?” He asks while standing over you, and you swear you see his eyes flash gold for a second, but then fade back to their bright green color.

     "Just st-stay b-back,“ you say, scooting backwards in the dirt. He chuckles, kneeling down and grabbing your ankles and pulling you back towards him. You let out a bloodcurdling scream, turning on your stomach to try and crawl away from him.  

      "No, shh,” he says, placing his knees on either side of your torso and flipping you over. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing so deep in the woods?”

      “None of your business,” you snap, trying to sound tough. He smirks, and an annoying part of you says he’s attractive. Well, he really is, but you’d rather not think about that under these circumstances. His lips are full and pink, his skin is subtly tanned and his beard is grown out and looks amazing on him. You suddenly remember his position on you and buck your hips up, beginning to flail your arms and kick your legs. He grabs your arms and pin them above your head, then wraps his feet over your shins to keep them still.

      “Mm, feisty,” he mumbles, his voice dangerously low. He’s strong, and you know that it’s going to be impossible for you to get out of his grip. He lowers his face into your neck, taking a deep breath in.

  “What do you want?” You ask, fear evident in your voice.

      “You,” he growls, reaching a hand down while grasping your wrists with his large hand. He lightly runs his fingertips down your arm, then over your shoulder, then over the sensitive skin of your breast. You breathe in deeply, wiggling around from the tickle of his touch. His face is still buried in the crook of your neck, and it takes you a second to realize that he’s kissing you there. He works his lips up your throat and to your jaw. His hand working on your breast shifts, and through your shirt he pinches your erect nipple. A loud moan escapes your lips, and you sigh. He growls hungrily, beginning to move his hand down your stomach, tickling you slightly. His hand travels farther down, and before he can reach your center you decide to improvise to try and stop him,

      “Wait-wait!” You say. Even though you want him to continue, your nerves got the best of you. His hand pauses, resting on your low stomach. He doesn’t answer you to show he’s listening, he only pulls back and looks deep in your eyes for you to continue. As you breath out, confused as to why he’s stopped. He blinks, and you realized he’s waiting for you to say something.

      “I can give you, uh, money. A-anything,” he doesn’t look impressed, and his hand twitches and you squeal, trying to think of something. “No- uh! I-” you start, but don’t have anything else to say. You realize there’s nothing you want to say to the stranger. You stare at him, looking deep into his green eyes, seeing his amusement. “Just tell me who you are,” you plea. He groans, laying his head down on your shoulder.

 "Fine,“ he says, "but there’s a catch.”

      “What?” You ask, looking at his gorgeous face. He smiles, and you know that the catch is going to be in his favor.

 "Let’s play a game,“ he says, and you raise your eyebrows.

      "Alright,” you start to say, confused. If this was your chance to get some answers, then you were going to take it, “what game?” He chuckles again, the sound rumbling from his chest.

      “Hide and seek,” he says, and again you’re confused. “If I can’t find you, then you get to know my name. But if I find you… game over. If you don’t want to play, I’ll leave you alone. But if you want to play, you have to follow through with the terms. What’s it going to be?” You gulp, knowing exactly what he means by “terms.”

 "Ok. I wanna play,“ you say slowly while nodding, strangely fine with this deal.

      "Good girl,” he says, getting off of you. You don’t miss a beat, pushing off the soft floor and turning away from him. You sprint towards the trees, hoping they’ll offer you some sort of protection. You pump your arms, running faster than you ever have before. All you wanted was some answers, to know who this person was.

      You figure you’re far enough away so you stop and press your back tightly against a tree, your lungs burning with exhaustion. You stay and listen, breathing deeply, trying not to give yourself away. You’ve never been more exhilarated in your life; the suspense of if he’ll catch you causes your knees to go weak. This stranger was powerful and beautiful, and that drew you to him. Even if he did scare you, and you weren’t sure exactly what he wanted, you were willing to give it up to him for some reason. You’d never been like this before; no one had ever caused you to feel like this. You nearly scoff; you can’t believe you’re acting like this. You sounded absolutely insane, thinking that this man who was trying to have sex with you was interesting and you wanted him, too, but it was true.

      You’re interrupted from your thoughts when you hear a sound next to you. When you turn, he’s there, grinning like the cat that caught the mouse. You yelp, beginning to run. You don’t make it far before he grabs you around the waist and lifts you up.

      “We had a deal,” he scolds, and you grab onto him. You hadn’t thought he would actually find you. He pins you against the tree you’d been hiding behind, shoving his knee between your legs and pushing against your core. He grabs your arms, looking deep in your eyes.

      “So pretty,” he says with his voice low, looking up and down your face. “Are you okay with this?” He asks, raising his eyebrows and you nod your head.

      “Yes,” you breathe. You let out a moan as he rubs his leg against your center, and you softly grind against it. “You want it, don’t you?” He asks, running his hands up and down your body. You can only moan when his hand travels between you two and rubs your clit through your skirt.

      “I like this,” he says, running his hand down your thigh and slipping it under the short cloth you’re wearing to lightly touch bare skin. “You look so sexy in this red skirt.” His hand travels farther up, and then he starts lightly dancing his fingertips over your panties. You slump back against the tree, spreading your legs further apart for him. He hums in approval, placing soft kisses along your collarbone and jaw. His other hand moves under your shirt, and he moans when he notices you’re not wearing a bra. He kneads your breast with his palm and you arch into his touch. The hand working under your skirt slips under your lacy underwear, his index finger slips past your folds, running up and down your middle. No one had ever made you feel this good and you let out a loud moan as his finger enters you. You grind against his hand, trying to cause friction from his palm on your clit.  

      “So wet,” he says between when he licks and nips at your lips. You can feel the orgasm rising, and your stomach clenches while your grab his shoulders for stability. He pulls away, smirking when you groan in frustration. He hooks his fingers in your underwear, pulling them down to your knees. He steps back, lifting your skirt and looking down at your lower half. He growls, the sound causes your stomach to pool with heat and you know you’re wet for him. He kneels in front of you, his grin looking like that of a predator and you’re his prey. He places a hot kiss on your aching clit, and you gasp in surprise. No one had ever done that to you before, in fact, very little of what he was doing you’d done before. He was clearly familiar with the female body; he was very good with his hands.

      “I’m going to eat you up,” he says, and without warning he buries his face in your folds, sucking your clit and causing you to writhe. Your knees buckle, and he takes your legs and places them over his shoulders. Your back is pressed against the tree, your hips bucking into his face as he licks the length of your center over and over again. He looks up at you with his big green eyes, holding the intense connection for a second, and then shoves his tongue inside of you, fucking you with his mouth. You scream in pleasure, finding his hair with your fingers and shoving his face deeper. He growls, sending vibrations throughout your entire body.

      His hands hold up your skirt as they grip your waist with unbearable force, and you soon find yourself trying to grind as hard as possible against his beautiful face. He holds still while you ride him, still sticking his tongue into your core. Your waist feels like it’s bruising he’s gripping you so hard, which it probably is. Pretty soon the feeling rises again, and you scream as he lets you come this time. A string of curses fall from your lips, and he keeps licking your center as you come down, his mouth working to make your high last longer than ever.

      “Oh God,” you breathe, unwrapping your fingers from his hair. That was the most intense thing you’d ever experienced, and you couldn’t believe it was with this belligerent, but gorgeous, stranger.

      “That was so fucking hot, babe,” he says, lightly rubbing your clit with his palm while tickling your lower stomach.

      “I shouldn’t be doing this,” you say, running a hand through your hair. He only chuckles, and the look on his face makes you even more wet if that’s possible. He unwraps your legs from his shoulders, setting your shaky legs down. He stands in front of you, pressing his hard member against your thigh.

      “I need you,” he breathes, and he’s about to take his pants off when you stop him. You run your hand down his front then rub him through his jeans. He slumps forward onto you, and you slide your hands in his shorts and wrap your fingers as much as you can around his dick. He’s huge, you can feel it, and it’s going to be hard for you to do this. You drop to your knees, pulling his pants down with you and leaving them at his ankles. He kicks them to the side, his dick erect in your hand. You look up at him and lick the tip, you’ve never acted like this with anyone else, and why you were comfortable with him was beyond you. You wrap your lips around his dick, and bob your head as far as you can without gagging. Your hand does the rest of the work for you, working up and down his shaft. He’s moaning above you, swaying slightly with pleasure.

      You can feel his orgasm rising, and he quickly pulls you away and moves the two of you to the ground. He hovers over you, pulling off your shirt and then unclasping your bra. He attacks your breast, kissing and licking your nipples. After he’s done with both of your breasts, he travels down your torso and places hot kisses along your middle. He pulls down your red skirt, leaving your tall white socks on.

 "So sexy, baby girl,“ he says, running his hands up and down your legs.

 "Please,” you beg, and he closes his eyes at your plea.

      “Don’t worry, I’m gonna take good care of you,” his deep voice rumbles, and he moves back up and places his elbows on either side of your head. You feel his member pressing at your entrance, and you open your legs for him to gain better access. He pushes into you, stretching you wide and the two of you moan in ecstasy.

     "So fuckin’ tight,“ he says, moving his hips to adjust. He begins moving faster, and your moans rise the faster his pace becomes. "All for me,” he says, possessing your mouth with his. His hips pound against yours, the slapping of skin the only sound around the two of you. You’d barely noticed but the sun had gone down, it was dark out here. The thought of your mother wondering where you are enters your mind for a split second, but it is quickly gone when you hear his deep, carnal growl above you. You hadn’t noticed but the full moon has risen.

       The man starts to pound into you with brutal force, causing stars to fly around your vision. His hands lightly wrap around your shoulders, and you barely pay attention to the pinch that draws blood from his sharpening nails. You’re being lifted higher, and one of his hands falls between your legs and rubs against your clit. The sounds coming out of you are rapid and needy, knowing that you were close to the edge.

      With a final thrust of his hips the two of you cum, yelling into the night air. His face lowers down to your throat, and he sucks on the soft skin, marking you. The two of you breath heavily, he’s slumped down on top of you, his dick still inside of you.

      “Woah,” is all you say, breathing in his woodsy, minty smell. You sense a shift in him, and he pulls back quickly, his eyes dangerous.

      He doesn’t say anything. Only stares as if he doesn’t recognize you. He jumps up, and you see his eyes flash bright gold. You look at his hands, horrified at what you see. Sharp nails had grown in, stained with blood. The red liquid sparkles in the moonlight, slow drops of it hitting the leaves. You look down at your shoulders; puncture wounds along your shoulders. He quickly turns, running away from you. You don’t say anything, only lie behind on the dirt, watching the strange man who’d transformed into something else before your eyes. You’re shocked beyond belief. What had just happened?

 The big bad wolf had eaten you up and stolen your heart.

Fic Masterpost: Masterpiece Theatre

Title: Masterpiece Theatre
Fandom: Achievement Hunter 
Pairing: Freewood (Gavin/Ryan)
Word Count: 5,689 (1/? Chapters)
Warnings/Tags: Eventually explicit, mild violence, Art Crime, FBI AU
Fic Summary: Special Agent Ryan Haywood is supposed to be hunting an art thief. He’s not supposed to be getting distracted by the private curator with the British accent and the crooked nose. Shame, really, because that’s exactly what he ends up doing.

Obviously, it starts with a painting. It nearly ends there, too.


Chapter One
Summary: Ryan wants to take this guy to a coffee shop and sit him down, and listen to him talk about art with his flashing eyes and his crooked nose and his British accent for hours. He wants to feel that first breathlessness and first stomach jitters over and over again. And Ryan isn’t ashamed to think that he also wants to gently peel off this man’s dark grey suit and see if he can’t make him feel those exact same feelings right back.

‘Till We’re 70

Summary: this is a dumb gross icky proposal (kind of??) fic bc i got emotional about marriage earlier and yeah! : ^ )

A/N: Hi i needed to upload something bc i didnt upload anything for like a year and a half? two years? and dan and phil just (clenches fist) inspire me like no other. so here this is short and dumb but its being published so! yay!

Word Count: ~1k. cool.

Surprisingly, Dan is the one who brings it up.

They’re on the couch and there’s a movie on that they’ve both seen a million times. They’re supposed to be watching it, but somehow Dan has sneakily made his way into Phil’s lap. He has one of his hands rubbing circles on Dan’s bare skin beneath his shirt and the other scrolling through Tumblr on his phone. That plus the heat being on high is making Phil feel incredibly warm and fuzzy.

Dan shifts, snuggling his head into the crook of Phil’s neck, and sighs.

“You’re like, almost thirty, kind of,” he says, and Phil can’t help but bark out a laugh.

Keep reading

Once upon a time
I took a clumsy step back
from the thin wall of words
I had carefully glued together;
you called it “happily writing gloomy poetry”
and I smiled half-heartedly
because for a fickle second
there was no tension in my shoulders
there were no spiderwebs between my fingers,
only a velvet quiet
replacing the crooked mirror  I had been staring into.

Once upon a time
I lied about
the thickness of my skin,
the patches on my heart
(you might have done it too)
and I wonder
whether it was the life sentence of first impressions
slipping through my lips
or just the inherited thought
that no one would offer a second glance
to broken little dolls
lest for some lingering nostalgia
we hadn’t had the time to fuel anyway.

So maybe that’s why
lately
I’ve found it hard to tame the roaring phrases of my mind;
they say wild animals smell fear
when closing in on your trembling soul
so maybe
the ghosts nestling in my ribcage
smelled the salty droplets
of the timid wave of happiness you brought with you
right before it drowned them;
and lately
I’ve been tracing constellations
with my lips on your back,
marveling at the ease with which
galaxies could spring to life
in the space between my lungs
with every gentle touch of your fingertips,
no grand explosions needed,
just the flickering candle light of your lips on mine,
a call of the void I’m so eager to follow
again and again
because lately
I’ve come to realize
some rusty screws will never mean I’m anything but
fully functional.

Once upon a time
I carved stories out of my bones
until they were too weak to hold themselves together
but lately
I’ve been learning to grow them
from swarms of butterflies and pulsing arteries.

—  “Logbook entry: on the ocean in your eyes”, luana gavan
Unstoppable Love

Hello, it’s me. I haven’t written anything in a while. Don’t forget to request. There will be a preview to a fanfiction that I might be writing coming out later this week so stay tuned for that. Hope you guys enjoy, xx

Y/N giggled as Justin hid his face in the crook of her neck, peppering soft kisses along the soft skin. She had been trying to get Justin out of bed for the past thirty minutes, but each time, he just begged and whined for her to lay down with him again. She had finally given in to his pleads and cuddled close to her boyfriend. The were both supposed to be going to her parent’s house for the day and Justin groaned the minute he heard the news. Let’s just say, Y/N’s parents had a few words to say about Justin that weren’t too nice and Justin had a few words and a finger in retaliation.

“Come on,” she whispered and pushed herself into a sitting position only to be pulled back down by Justin. “Jayy, we have to get ready to go to my parent’s.”

He whined, pouting his lips and Y/N could feel them against her neck. “Do we have to?”

“Yes, we have to.” She pushed herself off the bed and lifted the covers off of Justin, who clawed the air in attempt to bring the warm blanket over him again. 

Y/N giggled as Justin let out a huff. He stubbornly got up, an annoyed look on his face. She went up to him and pressed a kiss against his chin, earning a smile from Justin. She left the room just as Justin was taking off his boxers, readying himself for his shower.

-

“You look handsome, baby.” Y/N cooed and Justin narrowed his eyes at her, but didn’t stop himself from smiling at her words.

“Thanks, cutie. You look gorgeous.” Justin whispered into her ear and she felt familiar chills go down her spine.

The door opened and she saw a face that she didn’t think she’d ever see, “Oh. Y/N. It’s you.”

Horror was written clear on Y/N’s face and Justin could see the color drain from her cheeks. He looked over at the guy who wore a button up shirt and khakis and wondered what her ever did to make Y/N react this way.

“Bryan,” Y/N spoke through her teeth and made a mental note to talk to her mother about this. “Babe,” she looked over at Justin. “This is Bryan-”

“Her ex boyfriend.” Bryan said, a cocky smile on his face as he looked at Justin who rose an eyebrow.

Justin extended a hand forward to Bryan, but Y/N could see how tense Justin’s muscles were. “I’m Justin, her current boyfriend.”

Justin and Y/N had been dating for a year and a half. After her parent’s nearly tore their relationship apart, Justin and Y/N made a conscious decision to move in together after nine months. It was around the time of her birthday and it was Justin’s present to her. Before Justin, came Bryan, the only man her parents deemed suitable for their child. It didn’t work out mainly because Bryan was egocentric, but still, her parent’s were heartbroken over the ending of the relationship. When Justin came along, they shoved Bryan towards her over and over, but she could never leave Justin. Even if she loved him, it only took one look at Justin’s tattoos and his career choice to know that their only daughter deserve more.

She grabbed Justin’s hand, interlocking her fingers and brushed past Bryan without a second look. Justin’s grip was tight around hers and she looked over, moving closer to him and gently grabbing his face between his hands.

“If I knew he was going to be here, I wouldn’t have ever come,” she muttered and looked into Justin’s eyes.

He smiled a small smile, but she could see the longing to be accepted by her parents in the back of his eyes. “I know, baby girl. I know.” 

“I’m going to talk to my mom, okay?” Just in the nick of time because Leo had already bounded down the steps over to Justin.

Her fourteen year old brother simply adored Justin, much to their parent’s dismay, and Y/N only hoped that Justin could one day be adored by her parents as well. She heard the two of them conversing about Justin’s latest tattoo. It was angel wings on the back of neck and she just couldn’t wait to hear what her parents had to see about it once they made the discovery.

She spotted her mom, barking at a butler in the way only her mother could. She stomped over and her mom smiled wide, not even greeting her before she asked, “Have you see Bryan? He’s gotten so handsome and he won his first case at his law firm.”

“Yes, I’ve seen him,” scoffed Y/N, her eyes nearly rolling into the back of her head. “I can’t believe you’ve invited him, mom. Things ended between him and I. I’m with Justin now and I love him very much.”

The smile on her mom’s face was replaced by a sneer. “Yes, yes,” Her mother moved along and Y/N followed her. “I don’t really think you’re trying to pursue anything with Justin. He’s just a phase.”

“I can’t even listen to your right now,” Y/N broke away from her mother and shuffled quickly towards Justin who was looking at all the sketches his brother had drawn.

She pouted and plopped on the seat next to Justin. Without taking his gaze off of her brother’s notebook, he wrapped an arm around her waist and brought her closer to his side. He pressed a kiss to her temple, turning his head slightly. She sighed and let her head drop onto his shoulder.

-

Dinner began and she could feel the tension at the table. Bryan’s parents were here. They were always lovely people and even after her breakup with Bryan, she remembered getting a present from his mom the Christmas after. Y/N never understood his parents could raise a terrible person. She reached over for Justin’s hand mid-dinner and held tight as her mother started to ask questions.

“Are you still working as mechanic?” 

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Still working for sixteen dollars an hour?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“Are you thinking about getting a new job?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Please tell me you’re not getting anymore tattoos.”

Luckily, Leo saved Justin from having to answer that question as he spoke up to tell his mother about the tattoo he was thinking of getting.

“See,” her mother motioned between Justin and Leo. “He’s a terrible influence on your little brother. How can you bring him around the house when there is a fourteen year old boy? Bryan, on the other hand-” 

Bryan’s head shot up at the sound of his name and he smirked, but Leo only grimaced. He had never liked Bryan, even when we dated.

“Okay, mother! That’s enough. I love Justin and you can shove a stick up your ass, but wait, there’s already one up there.” The only person that laughed was Justin and she could see Leo snicker out of the corner of her eye. “Justin and I will be leaving.”

Y/N stood up abruptly, the chair tittering and tottering on one leg. Justin ate one last bit of his steak and stood up, “wait!”

She looked over at Justin a bit confused as he smiled a nervous smile. “Y/N always stresses to me the importance of family and how it means so much for her to have them around her so I thought that it would be nice for you to share this moment with us.”

She watched Justin fall to one knee, his fingers prodding inside his pocket for the small, velvet box. “Now, I know that I might not be able to give you what Bryan can give you. But I can promise you one thing, I can give you love for the rest of your life. I want to wake up next to you, I want to fall asleep next to you. Baby, when you die, I want to die.”

Y/N felt tears in her eyes as Justin showed her the ring and she gasped, covering her mouth as she extended one hand forward for Justin to slip the ring on. People cheered, mostly staff, and Y/N just cried as Justin stood up to give her a kiss. She wasn’t the only one crying. Her mom had dropped her head and sobbed, hiding her face away, but she wasn’t going to let that ruin her moment because their love was unstoppable

She’s an only child, from Philadelphia and more money than he’s seen in his entire life, she smells like roses and rainy days, she’s supposed to be a med student, but she’s covered in dry paint.

He’s got a sister, never knew his father, travel is in his blood, adventure in his bones, his skin is calloused, and he’s a writer, a word collector, a counterpart. He tells her his mother passed and clears his throat too many times.