you were my disease

  • Random person: well this medication you're taking is just treating the SYMPTOMS of your disease, it's not actually helping you
  • Me, internally screaming: I have a CHRONIC illness. THERE IS NO CURE. I will take what I can get.
I cleared out my ask box,

there were 103 stale requests. I’m really sorry for those who requested and I never got around to them…..I tried, I really did. I had 34 drafts that I cleared out as well. 

SO, we’re going to start fresh in a way that I feel like I can seriously write all the requests out. I might cap it a certain number, so I know for sure that I can get to all of them. 

Choose one of the following: 

Jughead Jones or Cole Sprouse
Archie Andrews or KJ Apa
Peter Parker or Tom Holland
Steve Rogers
or Chris Evans
Bucky Barnes or Sebastian Stan

Pair them with one of my favorite quotes for a theme: 

1. She wanted to scream but remained silent for you no longer deserved her words.
2. My biggest fear is that eventually you will see me the way I see myself.
3. In your hesitation, I found my answer.
4. Sometimes following your heart means losing your mind.
5. You may paint over me but I will still be here. 
6. I am made of all the things this world couldn’t take from me.
7. I was your cure, you were my disease. I was saving you but you were killing me. 
8. And then I think that maybe I was designed to be alone.  
9. We had the right love at a wrong time.
10. It seems to me that love could be labeled poison and we’d drink it anyways.
11. Maybe that’s it. We eventually go numb because you can’t break a heart that’s already broken. 
12. I think we were meant to be but we did it wrong.
13. Somebody asked me if I knew you, a million memories flashed through my mind but I just smiled and said I used to.

14. I turned out liking you a lot more than I originally planned.
15. I looked at him as a friend until I realized I loved him.
16. Since you’ve been around I smile a lot more than I use to.
17. I’m okay with your history, it made you who you are. And I happen to be in love with who you are.
18. Her cold heart just tells me it needs to be set on fire again.
19.What’s meant to be will always find a way.
20.Push me against the wall and kiss the hell out of me
21.To the moon and back, remember?
22. I couldn’t unlove him and I didn’t want to.
23. I don’t believe in magic, the young boy said. The old man smiled, you will when you see her.
24. What’s a Queen without her King? Well, historically speaking, more powerful. 
25. I love you, idiot. 

Request Away 

anonymous asked:

So how does Hinata handle Komaeda's episodes of dimentia? He had a really hard time understanding Komaeda in the killing game, so I have a hard time imagining that he's that helpful. Someone more sympathetic like Makoto could be better for him.


Hajime is perfect for me, thank you very much.

But it’s true that I wasn’t the best support during the simulation…

So? You were still the only one willing to try to understand me, and after the simulation you were the one who was always there for me, you studied my disease and you know exactly what to do during my “episode”. So I won’t allow anyone to say that someone else would be better than you.

Nagito…Thank you.

You were my cigarettes and alcohol.
A disease that killed me day by day.Once I started it, i couldn’t stop. One sip of that soothing satisfaction, makes me strive for more, just to satisfy my hunger and welcome the foreign feeling of addiction dominate my empty soul.
—  you were my cigarettes and alcohol.(journal 42)

I know we’ve both made mistakes. Terribly tragic mistakes that keep us up at night. I know that I probably won’t see you again for a very long time and that you can’t wrap your head around why I’ve made the choices that I have, like leaving you when you needed me the most or telling you that I never loved you. I’ve said things that have sliced open your heart and left irreversible scars in your soul. But my love, you must understand that these were the only ways for me to make sense of the internal struggle I was having with myself. I was projecting my instability onto you because I wasn’t strong enough to admit my shortcomings.

You see, I knew I wasn’t good enough for you. I knew you deserved so much more than I could’ve given you. My mind and heart were diseased and infected by the world, from the expectations put on me by my family and friends.

The first time I met you,
You smelled like cheap coffee and cigarettes
Your breath smelled like last nights booze,
And my hands were shaking.
Dark circles ringed my eyes,
And the veins, blood red against silky white,
Cracked blue irises like a brick through glass.
Your fingers always fell to that same position,
Like they were supposed to be something between your fingers,
A cigarette, a bottle,
A heart.
Your clothes didn’t hold on to you well enough,
But hung, like loose sheets, grasping for attachment
When I bumped into you,
You smiled and said
“Don’t worry about it.”
I did, oh god, I did.
There was something there,
Something so much larger than I am,
Buries away, under miles of cut skin and bruises,
and I felt like I was falling,
That all gravity had turned off and the world,
The world fell into itself,
And there was nothing.
Nothing but you and the stale cigarettes,
And the stars,
The stars themselves were sucked into blackness, and everyone else melted away.
But the world came back and the people returned,
And the light in your eye was gone.
Your smile fades, and your finger cracked.
And I knew,
I knew from that moment on,
That i would be forever falling,
Searching for that same feeling,
Longing for the stars themselves to break,
To see all else fade to black.
Waiting for you to show,
To see all others collapse and maybe,
Just maybe.
Then you could see,
You (were) are my whole universe.

So as i scramble from your ghost,
Cowering behind bedsheets and pillows,
Your phantom’s words come back to me,
Leave the room far more empty than before,
And as your ghostly arms grasp for my blankets,
My skin turns white and the breath leaves me,
Taking the very life from my body
Your dead eyes take me in,
Drain blood from my arteries,
Steal oxygen from my bloodstream.
So why,
Why does your ghost keep coming back,
Taking me back to a time where you left me,
Gripping ah my skin like im some sort of ladder,
I was not your escape, I was not your angel.
You were my disease,
A plague i swallowed everyday for two years,
Choked like God himself wrapped his fist on my throat,
Collapse my bones into themselves like burning letters.
Your writing was beautiful,
But your words were laced with poison.

I hold in my hands a lock,
Inscribed with our initials
An unbreaking promise of forever.
Why do I sit here,
Hands in my lap, fingers tracing scratches,
Wondering where we,
Where you,
Where I went wrong.
My legs dangle,
A solemn reminder to the key we threw,
Watched it fall into the river with a soft ping.
The tides swept it away,
Never to be found again,
This perfect reminder of us.
Why can I still hear your footsteps,
Echoing off mountainous caves,
And lush trees.
Your voice,
Ever so poisonous and beautiful,
Crashes down waterfalls,
Louder than any cascade its created.
Don’t pretend,
Don’t you dare act like you took it,
Crushed my entire universe,
Watched it crumble when you left me.
I am nothing but sorrows,
Empty promises you broke so long ago.
I do not flinch when the lock slips through,
End over end into the angry tides.
I do not stutter,
When I hear your laughter in my memories.
Your dark eyes,
Ever so dead,
Watched as you fell, slowly, away from me.
The bridge shook, the train was coming again.
The old boards shuddered,
Creaked under my (our) weight.
You are not with new,
But I wish you were here.
So while I sit, and time moves,
Slower than ever before,
I watch the lock fall,
Hit the water,
Just like your body did,
One year ago.

—  “You”- a series of poems

“I was your cure, and you were my disease. I was saving you, but you were killing me.”

General AU: Newt doesn’t know what to think. He doesn’t know if he loves Thomas, or if he loves the memories he has with him. It kills him to know that he’s in this position, and Thomas shatters into a million pieces.

I’ve seen heartbreak sewn into the violent violet circles on my sister’s face. I’ve seen it in her eyes because I swear to god they still look like shattered glass and I’m not saying you can never be happy again but heartbreak is your handprint injected into my bloodstream.

I’ve heard heartbreak in the crack of my best friend’s voice as she begged me to come pick her up from the gas station in the loneliest hours of the day when the night sky smudges with the morning sky. I’ve heard it in the way she talks about you because you chewed her heart up and spit it out like the poison that laced the corners your lips each time you kissed her.

I’ve tasted heartbreak on his tongue because when he kisses me and closes his eyes she still plays behind his eyelids on a monotonous gut wrenching repeat. He said he was over her but the last thing on his mind before sleep took him was the color of her favorite lipstick.

I’ve felt heartbreak in my grandmother’s damp hands as she tried to scrub away the touch of a man who she would never touch again because fate had decided to kill half of her instead of all at once. She still mutters his name with every shuttering breath she takes.

I’ve smelled heartbreak in the tobacco breathed boys and the cherry chapsticked girls. I’ve smelled it in the rain and I still smell it in my clothes.

Baby you were a disease that wracked a body and possessed the senses. I spit out your name and scraped away your touch and still your phantom lurked in the most gilden parts of my life. Your arms still hug my ribs and your lips still graze mine. I know this. This is heartbreak.

—  Don’t trust boys with pretty words and crooked smiles

One. Being with you was the first thing I’ve ever been completely sure of. I spilled my guts to you and I’m still slipping in the mess.

Two. I know that one third of the CN Tower is underground, and that sharks have four rows of teeth, and that the life expectancy of a Canadian male is 78, but I will never know why you left me. Maybe you won’t either.

Three. I remember you made me laugh so hard that I couldn’t eat my lunch. You used to say that that was your favourite memory.

Four. I cried the night you told me you’d get me a star for my birthday.

Five. I also cried on my birthday when you cancelled our plans.

Six. Tú eras mi mundo. Te amé.

Seven. I treated you like you were ground zero on 9/11, like you were the cure to the unknown disease that ravaged my body.

Eight. Your eyes are dead. They don’t look at me like they used to. They don’t look at me at all.

Nine. If having you back would kill me, I’d still do it. I’m dying anyways.

Ten. You were the last thing that made me feel alive.

—  Ten things I wish I got the chance to tell you