*rides your dick but only as a friend* 


                "We obsess. It’s our nature. We turn on a track, around and around; we march in step; we act out the same tales, over and over, the same sets of motions, while time piles up like yarn under a wheel."

  • personification of regret. not as awful as he could be, surprisingly.
  • multi-fandom, multi-ship, so on.
  • will write any style from one-liners to novellas.
  • approximately three years of experience on tumblr.
  • skype available for mutuals upon request.

                                                             home ; message ; theory

paradoxofconstellations asked ;  
"-- I've got peppermint, and lemon."

                         he’s not in the mood to accept visitors — & how much more obvious
                         can that message be than in the looming,  swirling,  corporeal  pool
                         of primordial  void  that shadows the circumference of his temporary
                         home?   a darkness so deep, it tears your limbs from sight  &  leaves
                         you straddled in an empty abyss?   he thinks it’s fitting,   to make his
                         statement that way  - so that those who should come looking for him
                         should feel the fear it instills  -  that   L O N E S O M E ,  frightening
                         feeling to be caught in a state of  unknowing  still.

                                                                                                              but while the
                         dark rarely disobeys him,  long before he had given the  balancing 
                         sister a ’ free pass ’  so to speak  through his shadow - an offer, even 
                         now,  he hesitates to regret  -  &  so the mass of his shield separates
                         for her, instead of swallowing her into its depths, parting enough so
                         that  she might  see  the  path  to  the  cabin  sheltered  in  the  din.

                         [ & so the firebug blazed on & he,
                         like a moth, goes to meet her at the
                         d o o r . 
                                                                                              was this what they call
                                                                                                                h a b i t ? 

                                              ❝ You spoil me.

arrogant characters

arrogant characters refusing to admit they care about people

arrogant characters not realizing they care about people

arrogant characters realizing they care about someone after something terrible happens to them

squidman: ok the flour is in the bowl
ᴊᴀᴄᴋ sᴘᴀʀʀᴏᴡ﹣﹣﹣;: tips it out
ᴊᴀᴄᴋ sᴘᴀʀʀᴏᴡ﹣﹣﹣;: the flour is not in the bowl
squidman: ur fired


Conrad Godly (Japan) Powerful Paint Strokes

You don’t have to like me.
But you’re going to respect me.
—A Day to Remember (via dylan-my-vodka)

xaedifex replied to your post:



"i’m not bitter" i say, bitterly, with a bitter expression

( stiles: )

             there’s a bittersweet  twinge  in the air between both mother  &
             son ; one which left a sour taste in the back of stiles’ throat.  it made
             the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end,      left him unsure of
             which direction to take. a dream it might have been,    but the teen
             was more than aware of how  real   the subconscious could make
                                                    things appear.

                                                                                   a hesitant step forward
                                                                  & the voice that had once helped
                                                                 him drift to sleep had him coming
                                                                                            to a stunted halt.


                                                         it’s not his mother —
                                      stiles isn’t stupid enough to assume that it is.
                                            — and yet, hand still reaches out for
                                                                  c l a w.

                                           [ why deny his  g u i l t  when they both
                                                         know it to be  t r u e ? ]

                        ❝                    i wish you were  real. ❞


                      the dream is a cruel one, but a dream it remains all the same —
                      one full of gentle,   longing glances and foxes fangs held captured
                      behind dainty lips. but well maintained or not - every dream has its
                      flaws,   and theirs is shown in the sharpness of her nails,  the fury in
                      her smile,    and the swish of a fox’s tail kept trapped in her shadow.

                                                    WHAT A PITIABLE FOOL

                      they love it, truly, they LIVE for it - live for him, & now they show it
                      through a gentled touch of a mother’s hands to cup his cheeks, but
                      softness is not in their nature and their claws dig into his flesh   —
                      blood  ripped  from him as they   stab and grab and push   closer.

                                 ❝ I’m real.  I’m here.  I promise. 

                      & theirs eyes mean to say I won’t leave - not now - not ever but
                      their hands are slinking from scarred cheeks to his throat and  now
                      they’re  CHOKING HIM  and THROTTLING HIM  and KILLING HIM.

                        ❝ I loved you - I loved you - I love you.
                                                                 I PROMISE.
                                But I’m happyforgot you.  The person you are now
                                                       isn’t worth remembering