likethcrns replied to your post: hi idk what i’m doing . ??? like this ...
make me one or ur a coward .
uH we HAve things u greedy PineAPple
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hi idk what i’m doing . ??? like this for a starter tho .
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shlms:
THE GUNSHOT SOUNDED LIKE DEATH . he remembers it like yesterday , the screaming whir of the helicopters in the sky above , hands in the air , squinting upward into thesearchlights . slipping john’s browning from his backpocket had hardly been a second thought , & his hand had trembled . the shot had echoed with a loud crack , & he was sevenyears old , falling to his knees , awaiting his execution . ❝ i know what it feels like . totake one life to save another . but i don’t regret it . ❞ regret , the vice itself , did not flow through his veins , not then . death would come for him , sooner than he would haveliked , if moriarty’s return had notintervened . that is how he sits here , hands clasped on the cold metalslab of a table , devoted to a case that he can’t help butto stick his nose into . ❝ while i do in fact believe you have fired upon another in order to savesomeone , multipletimes perhaps , i do notbelieve that you are a serial killer . i want to assist you , in any way that i can . ❞
[ @godreflect & starter call ! ]
regret is ugly . regret has beading eyes & sagging limbs . it’s an unhinged jaw , snapping with razors for teeth . it’s blessed that he does not feel it . he is numb to its energy . an overture to sanguine soaked flesh . he remembers it, too . it is not something he can forgot . not when a ghost lingers around to make itself known . eidolon . here the echoing slams of metal ring in his head . the scraping of iron against stone . it is not a place of solace . what peaks is curiosity . ( oh, he knows exactly who did this to him . there are other wonders about it to behold . ) ❛ then tell me , holmes . what is your theory ? ❜ he speaks the language . the art of subtlety & distrust . zephyr trembles his skin , a soft kiss . rhythmic tap , tap , tap of his fingers against metal . darkened eyes like windows . pyrrhic victory in the conversation : he has something to gain & many somethings to lose . vacivity still . ❛ how did i end up here ? ❜ it almost sounds like a mocking tune ! void of mellisonant harbors , not yet stirring to malice . it is calculating disbelief . ( what is it, to burn ? who will write his epitaph ? ) there is brilliance to be discovered . two prying disasters of empyrean build . them, who cannot seek normalcy . who hear the crying winged serpents screech of deserving more , deserving divinity . this fine intelligence is what holds common between sleuth & prisoner . judge & executioner .
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AT NIGHT I LEAVE THE LIGHTS ON in my little house & walk across the flat fields . when i look back from a distance, the house is like a boat on the sea . it’s really the only time i feel safe .
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tag yourself
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likethcrns:
❛ WHEN CAN I LEAVE ? ❜ with a word or even a flick of a wrist , she’s prepared to dash . to stretch her limbs and run , to touch freedom against her palms and smother it against her chest like a dying flame . ❛ i don’t have any belongings that i’ll need to take with me except for my necklace . ❜ fingers graze along her neck , touching bare flesh that once chilled at the place of a gold locket . she wouldn’t leave here without it . call it foolish if you must , but a singular possession holds all that remains of her youthful heart . ❛ one of the nurses took it from me awhile back though . could you get it back ? i’ll go with you but not without it . ❜
beating casket . a mouth full of white tar . to ameliorate , ease suffering & vile , he is playing god . twisting crawling vines like words . tongue devoid of utter simplicity & authenticity . it is a risk . a hero wallowing in blood . not your common paladin . ❛ as soon as possible . ❜ ( it is revolting : how much he belongs here . a quick escape. ) double match loose sides . everything with two meanings. tenderness is the stab in his back , prickling thorns sprout from its roots . youthful days much passed , leaving familiarity in its cracking wake . it renders sympathy ---- empathy . ❛ we can get it on the way out . i’ll pick it up from my partner . ❜ no villainous , even in winnowed of disregard for law . ❛ they’ve probably given it to him . is there anything else you need ? ❜ his mind is the tick , tick , tick of the clock . the frantic ways of the passage of time & he wishes to snap it shut . find solace in the comfort of shared trauma . to expand & grow with the tranquility following vulnerose . two people , different ages , different marks & wear , bonded in moiety & strength of sheer will . to survive is to be omnipotent & only gods understand each other .
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Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet, 10 [28], 1.12.1931 (trans. Margaret Jull Costa)
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AT NIGHT I LEAVE THE LIGHTS ON in my little house & walk across the flat fields . when i look back from a distance, the house is like a boat on the sea . it’s really the only time i feel safe .
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anyways… reblog + tag what you smell like according to what does a hero smell like 🍃
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likethcrns:
❛ I DON’T WANT TO STAY . ❜ a rushed response , yet it was laced together by the brutal strings of truth . a weary body and a weary soul . she burns with woe endlessly . isn’t she too young to be this tragic ? isn’t her heart too decayed for another taste of false hope ? the simplicity of normality has stretched far from her reach , but here is a chance . a glimmering burst of faith in a chamber of shadows . maybe it is not perfect and perhaps it could be a fatal catastrophe , but the world has blessed her with no better choices than the one presenting itself . ❛ i doubt they’re going to let you just walk out with me . they barely let me near certain doors . ❜
oh , sweet tasteless denial . to keep everyone as far away as possible . something he knows well . a sequestered life is what he chose ; what he uses to breathe . hers is one of vast loneliness . one he can stop . one step at a time . ❛ i have some pull . ❜ ( he will do what it takes . ) serpentine , diablerie . behind everything he does is transgression . even pure acts become polluted . his good deed will need some lying to his new coworkers . manipulation . delitescent . he wears it well . absence and distance a mask so no one can have the chance to read him like he does them . ( heavenly scribe, prophet puppet. ) ❛ they’ll agree it’s best to keep a close eye on you right now . ❜ ( does his tact sound more like a hymn ? or like a death sentence ? ) ❛ i can do that . ❜
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hi stop shipping w.ill and ab.igail together ya nasties
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so i lost my job back in march / april after some heavy mistreatment and abuse at work that caused a major mental health upset. i lost a lot of progress that i had made over the past couple years and have been living on assistance ever since which hasn’t been easy. unfortunately, my bills came out and it’s put me into overdraft. i really need to get gas in my car because i have some doctors appointments coming up this week and i won’t have any money coming in until friday. i was able to scrounge up some change today but it won’t be enough with the outrageous gas prices here in canada. if anyone can spare any change at all, it costs me $60 to fill my car. i’ll happily make you icons, mobile headers, whatever you’d like. if you can spare anything at all, my paypal is here. even if you can’t, reblogging would be kind too. i appreciate any help given in advance thank you so much.
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on another note will’s a mess and constantly falls asleep w/ all his clothes on.
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it’s not intended but will definitely hurts everyone around him. he. has the worst habits and coping mechanisms. he can not Stop himself. i mean even with alana??? and the whole ‘ dodged a bullet ‘ thing . it doesn’t matter if they didn’t take it further or not. he hurts people. he gets under their skin, finds their ticks, destroys all the relationships he has without meaning to. he can understand them. he knows where it hurts. he always just does what he has to do . he’s not morally good he’s not morally bad. he picks his behavior specifically for each situation and what he needs . he doesn’t?? want to hurt anyone?? but u can just see him crossing more and more lines.
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“Sometimes I’m terrified of my heart; of its constant hunger for whatever it is it wants. The way it stops and starts.”
- Edgar Allan Poe
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