A New Ask Meme: Go To My Ask And Paste The Last Thing You Copied And Send It To Me Without Any Explanation

a new ask meme: go to my ask and paste the last thing you copied and send it to me without any explanation

When are you going to d i e and stop ruining my life?

@wearscmethingblack // requested a thing. 

✣ | “ ---- i think thats a bit                          d r a m a t i c ,  mother. “  legs cross, peek toe heels.  leather worn  barely from the streets of a country far & fairer than the current.& thoughtless sigh. eyeline, mismatched   & distracted in the anywhere other than a gaze of a mother.                                   “ was only a few weeks. “ 

hey do me a favor and reblog with ur name and pronouns in the tags!!

✣ | suddenly & direct  - especially with great force. an  unkindness  & climax of something built and bottled in the walls of a home broken, battered in a way only its’ occupants could sense&take into sight.bloody bruised. a fair cheek, flushed a bold & bright red. two hues lay  set on the hardwood below where force had taken th -  em in the action previous. heartbeat highlights silence.  it starts with a grasp, a clutch, a yank. & then here you are, staring at the ground with an ache in your wrist  & a handprint clear on your skin. -- it was only logical. but  the difference in this  is the absence of a vice to blame.  it hurt. -- & feet find stance,   an expression riddled with  something crestfallen & stupidly courageous.   don’t cry.  tears will only give away your WEAKNESSES. &  faults.                 “ don’t wait up for me --------  “  numb, that is numb.   cold & lifeless & no longer fighting.  walk away, walk away. don’t look back.  whats the point. 

That does it. Rage has reached an ultimate level; blood boiling and white-hot magic crackling through her veins before she can stop it. It’s two seconds tops before Fiona stalks forward, takes a small and slender wrist into her grasp and delivers a hell of a slap against the right side of her daughter’s face. The impact stings the palm of her hand, and the regret is immediate—oh God oh no why oh God no I didn’t mean it. But there is no taking it back, no doing it over. And the regret doesn’t overshadow the anger, not yet.

She drops Delia’s wrist abruptly, retreats back a few steps and gingerly cradles her sore palm, stunned by the sheer magnitude of her own force, disbelieving that it actually happened. Jesus. To make things worse—she’s sober. Stone cold. So there’s no excuse for it, nothing to fall back on. 

There are a thousand words resting behind her teeth, ranging from I’m sorry to you ungrateful little bitch and yet… she can’t bring herself to say a single solitary thing. It’s quiet, so quiet, and the tension in the air is palpable enough to raise the dead. 

[spins around in chair ominously] i’ve been expecting y- [chair continues to spin] shit [tries to stop spinning] shit [tries to grab at a lamp or table to stop spinning] sHIT [falls out of chair]