A response to a prompt

~You are happily married, but one day you realize you have a crush on someone else. What happens?

The day my happiness shattered.

Though it was merely an illusion of happiness to began with, and only foretold the oncoming storm that would be the end of something I thought would be eternal.

How was I to know that my fondness for a small bit of online interaction and a single picture would spark such a catastrophic ending? That the “true love” that I felt was only a reflection of the light I was giving off?

And once that wall came down and the dust settled, that light would illuminate all the hollow halls that I had filled with hope… yet it only revealed cracks in the drywall and missing tiles from the floor.

When did the carpet get so worn and threadbare?

When did I began starving myself to feed another?

It was only a crush, yet it showed me everything. I only wanted love, and I was not getting it.

Brick by brick, my home fell apart. I struggled as always to hold the stones together, but flesh is not made to be foundation. I fell alone, as I had forgotten that it is not a sin to seek aid… though the one person I was meant to lean on would have me think otherwise.




But I would not be held any longer in my jail cell, my prison I willingly walked into… my cage forged by my own fingers and an empty promise.

I would be free as my “happy marriage” days were long gone, faded and worn memories like the rug of my home. I have escaped my entrapment and will not be tamed again.



Imagine your OTP making a blanket fort and making out/cuddling in it, that is all.




                                   You treat me like I’m only a moon,

As if the light I put off is what you shine on me.

                    But you are wrong.

                                           I am a star.

                        I may not shine as bright as you,

       but I’ll always [burn] hotter.

Attention Followers: Possible (Semi)-Hiatus

///I’m going through a rather tough time right now… I’d love to roleplay, but my muses are being fickle and I’ve admittedly neglected my health for a few days.

I’m still willing to chat and maybe post a thread over Skype or something, but I’m doubting you’ll get much more from me besides occasional pictures or poetry. (If you’d like to know more, see below)

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In all the years I’ve spent protecting others, I never once considered the possibility of having to protect myself.

— (via tomhiddlespam)

                     Rιρ му ∂яєѕѕ
                                     Aη∂ вιтє му ωιηgѕ
                            Tняσω αωαу αℓℓ ωσятнℓєѕѕ тнιηgѕ
                                                         Aη∂ нσρєѕ αη∂ ∂яєαмѕ
                         Oƒ вєιηg α вєттєя вєιηg.
                                                     Fσя αℓℓ уσυ αяє αη∂
                                                             Hανє вєєη

                                            Iѕ ησтнιηg.

                                                      Wᴏʀᴅs ᴀᴍɪss,

                                    ᴀ ʙɪᴛᴄʜ ᴏʀ ʙᴀsᴛᴀʀᴅ.

Cᴜᴛ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴄʟᴏᴛʜ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴘᴇᴀsᴀɴᴛs ᴅᴏɴ.

             Sᴘɪᴛ ᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ sʜɪᴛ

                   ᴀɴᴅ ғᴜᴄᴋ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀ.

                                 Tʜɪs ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ɪs ᴛʀᴀsʜ

             ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ᴍʏ ɢᴏᴅ.

(Source: fudayk)


"Sorry we made a mistake and now you have no choice but to share the bed" is the most romance fanfic cliche I have ever seen.


"Sorry we made a mistake and now you have no choice but to share the bed" is the most romance fanfic cliche I have ever seen.

Mental abuse is a quiet thing.

A poison that slowly strangles you in the night.

It might have a bout of rage or a tender moment, but these are fleeting once your captor acquires what they’re seeking from you, and then they’ll cast you aside once more.

It makes you lie to your friends and family, question the things they have to say all the while that -nagging- feeling in your gut tells you that what’s happening is wrong…

But worst of all…

It makes you doubt yourself.

It forces you to lock up all those [screaming voices] inside of you until they are too muffled for you to hear them, to smother everything like you’ve been smothered…

Then you hollow yourself out until you’re nothing but a mold for others to fill.

You are not a mold. You are a person with feelings, and you deserve to be treated as such. Always remember.

You deserve to be happy.


Imagine Person A of your OTP seeing Person B with bed hair for the first time, and being totally blown away by how cute/hot/etc. they look with their hair being a huge mess. Bonus: if Person A gets flustered when Person B pokes fun at them for liking it.

Me and Other Peoples’ Characters: A Love Story





Oh my fucking god.
It’s me.
Like the perfect description.   

adorable xD

(Source: sarsler)


some quick full-body refs for the Pirate!Free! postcards I did Q uQ;; I hope this helps the cosplayers who wanted to give it a go, ty for all the notes on my postcards, you guys are awesome! :”D <3 I’msobadatfullbodyrefs  Free boys will be the death of me QxQ;;