#freewritting

[sofiadragon]

Loki just busting out with "Why would I respect Captain America?" during the cleanup after Avengers 1 but before he's gagged "That nation doesn't treat it's veteran warriors with any respect, and leaves those wounded in war to die of hunger on the streets each winter."

That gets Thor's full attention in the worst way possible and Tony starts talking about the Maria Stark foundation, but Loki just keep stirring the pot about veterans exposed to carcinogens during the Iraq war who can't afford medical care and the political games being played with their benefits package. Clint mentions Jon Stewart and Loki rips the rug out from under them by pointing out that a comedian private citizen from a stigmatized minority religion is the main advocate for something that a warrior culture like Asgard would get done without a single word of debate.

Thor wants to muzzle Loki, but he's distracted by a shouting match about the VFW and how many vets commit suicide so they aren't a burden on their families. Cap agrees completely with Loki and that feels really weird, but Loki's contained and there is a new cause he needs to fight for so he'll work through that later. When Sitwell and the other officials arrive the heavy hitters on the Avenger's team are all ready to spend some political capital on this issue while Loki's quietly explaining to some impressionable peon that he was coerced into acting as he did during the invasion by the owner of the army that attacked, and if they will keep him on earth a while he will happily tell them everything they want to know about Thanos. By the time Stark, Sitwell, and Natasha convince the rest of the team that they need to focus on more immediate issues Loki is already three-quarters of the way through negotiating with the CIA or FBI representatives to exchange the things he knows - both about Thanos and about advanced technology/magic - for a comfortable living arrangement and a full pardon.

#loki #thor #captain america #stirring up trouble #by spitting inconvenient truths #loki god of mischief and manners #he didn't stutter #freewritting #fanfic prompt #I don't want to write it I want to read it #jon stewart #Wounded Warriors #us politics falling on its face

[chukoism88]

June 16th

#free write #spilled thoughts #freewritting #spilled ink

[skyrchives]

Desperately pleading these walls to reconstruct themselves to stop me from losing everything I once built — myself.

#dark academia #thoughts #words #about love #one sided love #unrequited love #poem #unrequited thoughts #realization #poetry #qoutes #qoutesaboutlife #qoutes about love #freewritting #prose #thing in my life #would've could've should've

[danielleelizabethhh]

You stick to my skin like a leech that can’t survive on its own.

#spilled thoughts #personal #spilled ink #mine #spilled words #words #past #painful #freewritting #free wrting #free write #personal vent #writerscorner #writerslife #writers problems #i write too much #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #women writers

[virovac]

My friend in my closet

The demons flying in the sky do not bother me.

They taunt and cackle every hour, that sometimes I'll need to sleep and they'll be waiting at my window, to drag me from my slumber, into the hell below.

For I have a friend far older than them, smarter and stronger than anything those hell jerks have ever dreamed.

When the world was young they came here, looking for a home. But they weren't accepted anywhere by the others already here, not the ones in the ocean or even deeper below.

Now they live in my closet.

And really like how the demons taste.

---

The idea of a cosmic horror in a kids closet devouring more human-centric horrors seemed cute to me.

#freewritting #demons #cosmic horror

[reneta-karaslavova]

Flowers and Dreams

Translated from Japanese

I want to be a flower bed. In my heart there are flowers, sometimes in bloom, sometimes about to wilt, always decorating it. When light shines, not from the outside, but from the heart, they sit beautifully. When I cry I shall swallow the tears, holes appear and so the flowers grow so much it hurts, so much it’s hard to breathe, but it can’t be helped. They must live on, for if they die, so does the heart. I would lose myself, I would lose sight of myself.

As my body and heart grow bigger, must I throw away these flowers? If they wither and fall would I be able to get them back? I don’t know.

But I won’t throw them away, for these flowers are a present from me for me.

Dreams might be flowers.

#poetry #my poem #freewritting #my poetry #flowers #dreams #writerscommunity #poet #poems #literature #writing #original poem #poets on tumblr

[justaspecter]

Delivery~ (pt2)

I get a hyper fixation on continuing this for some reason. And this is me writing with a "fuck grammar just write mf" mindset. So yeah, hope anyone who reads this piece enjoy.

-

Screams of profanities rattled out of your gaping mouth as you took another leap away from the vertical swing of the sword, narrowly escaping getting split into half. At the limit of your patience, you grab two flashbangs hoping to all that is mighty that two will be enough to disorient the cluster of humandrill surrounding you. Upon throwing the explosives toward your pursuers, the detonation went instant, loud and bright. Not wasting any more time you run in the direction of the goth castle. 

The crate in your back makes everything ten times worse to fully utilize your skills. But as long as the enemies didn't have a heightened sense you can safely traverse the forest by different means. 

From your last visit to the cursed brooding island, the beast halted their chase when you reached the castle. It should be easy to reach the premise of the castle if using the path you ran before. However, messing with beasts intelligent enough to read human patterns. Taking another route is the only option. Proven by the initial attack greeted you the moment you entered the forest from before. 

But the more you delved deeper into the forest you were occasionally ambushed by the grouped-up humandrills. Your dread huddled like thick mud in your concentration. It's only a matter of time before the anxiety wavered your focus. And losing focus means death for you. This shitty job will definitely be the end of you. 

After an hour of running, throwing every explosive in your possession, hiding, and sneaking around, you barely manage to reach the castle, ragged and disheveled. Worst of all this is only the second time in your job and you feel like you crawled out of hell. 

Just like before you place the crater down but this time right in front of the door. Knocking on the door three times you walked towards the steps and slumped down. Too tired to care for any professionalism you didn't bother looking behind when you heard the creaking of the door. 

"Is this my order?" 

"Just give me a minute." You huffed, annoyed with the stoic man's question. Both of your fists clenched on your lap while mustering every restraint you still had because you were trembling for the urge to sass back at the man. 

Pushing yourself up you walked toward the crate, grabbed your butterfly knife, and commenced to work. 

"Do you really think I would even bother delivering these if these are not your order Mr. Dracule?" you said as you stood. 

"I don't want to pay for the wrong ones again." 

His answer caught you off guard. Huh? That made sense. Returning to your neutral expression you just nod. Before going back from the spot where you had taken a seat. You don't have anything to say since you are just here to do your damn job. 

The chilling breeze drifted through you carrying the repulsive scent of the acrid smell of burnt flesh. One of the worst smells your sensitive nose ever perceived; was the scent of bloodlust. 

As you wait for the payment you glare at the baboons hidden among the shadows of the dense forest. The beast stalked you all the way here. You know well once you are done and step into the forest once more death awaits you.

"This job is apeshit." Grumbling to yourself frustrated by your current situation. Trepidation consumed you which began manifesting physically. 

Your nose scrunched from the saturated smell of bloodlust circulating the area, too much that it physically hurt your nose. Clicking your tongue, you faced the door with your hands held out. Which startled your customer. A first reaction you managed to pull out from Mr. Deadpan.  

"Sorry about that Mr. Dracule but I can't stand your pets, they reek."

"Pets?" He sounded genuinely clueless. At least his voice had a semblance of emotion in them. But his expression is utterly dead. 

"The humandrills," you answered, still waiting with your hand still stretched towards him. 

But instead of handing the money, Dracule looked towards the forest. "The humandrills are the other inhabitants of this island and they are not under my authority nor ownership," he explained. 

The slap from your own palm surely stung but it was a necessary pain to stop yourself from screaming in frustration. You forgot not everybody has the same senses as you, so you should stop acting out. 

"Just hand me the payment, please." 

This time without missing a beat Dracule handed the thick envelope to your awaiting hand. 

"Are you going to survive the hoard?" 

"Without the crate on my back, I can evade efficiently this time," you said while busy tucking the envelope inside the safety pocket of your hip pouch. 

"..."

"I'll be on my way then. See you on the next delivery." In obvious displeasure seeping in your tone. Not like you're looking forward returning to this nightmarish forest. 

…

After the success of your second delivery, everything seemed to be a bit manageable. It was a significant improvement after evaluating the experience from the first and second, you come up with an efficient plan after some testing in the third. 

"Is your talent only focused on running?"

The prying on the crate abruptly halted. It was an obvious slip-up but it didn't bother you for long. "Yeah, as cowardly as it sounds I run to keep myself alive. It's what I'm good at. The only thing I'm good at." Not looking up you could feel the intense gaze from the loner. 

You wondered what's gotten into the recluse to ask a question like that?

In the sixth delivery, you brought fireworks for distraction. Hey, it's not your fault when your usual choice was out of stock. Besides, the baboon's reactions were priceless. Running around like a bunch of headless chickens while flashes of colors along with booming noise exploded in the dark depressing sky. 

"Fireworks?"

You grinned from the hint of amusement in his voice. "I don't have my usual supply. Got to be creative once in a while. I hope the noise didn't bother you so much?" 

"No, I'm used to the explosions whenever you arrive. As long as you don't start a forest fire I don't care about your methods."

You clicked your tongue in fake dismay. "Guess I have to cross arson among the list." 

An oppressing aura bolted right on your spine along with the overwhelming scent of charred coal and seething steel with a hint of sweetly overdosed wine. 

"It's a joke! It's a joke! Jeez, you reek." Pushing your arm under your nose, you frantically distance yourself. Even though he reeked of his scent of anger his face remained stoic. 

"Is that so."

Deadpan. Seriously, you feel like you're interacting with a doll rather than a human being. Although you saw twitches on his lips, and arches of his eyebrows; the problem is his eyes. 

"Yeah, sorry Mr. Dracule." 

He didn't say anything anymore as he carried the crate inside his castle. And when his presence is far enough from the entrance, you let yourself crumble on the floor. Note to self don't joke around with the recluse warlord. It will cost your life and you already feel like you lost 10 years of your lifespan with that short encounter. 

But it's strange to sense something sickeningly sweet mixed with the scent of anger. As if he was… no… no way. 

You shudder at the conclusion you put together. 

… 

It is strange working in the bar at this time of the month. Maybe you've gotten used to your other job and it feels strange wiping the bar counter, washing glasses, and serving drinks; instead of sailing out of the sea to deliver a parcel for the certain recluse living on the goth paradise island infested with bloodthirsty, intelligent baboons. 

Dave informed you a while ago that Mr. Dracule didn't ring him for the usual order. You should be happy about it but for some strange reason, your gut can't seem to settle. It's supposed to be an easy day too, after dealing with the certain flamboyant red hair minus the stylish part a few days ago and you're already mentally done. 

And then there's this low-life piece of shit of a scum harassing their only waitress. You gave Dave a look and he nodded. 

"Oi! Hands off or you lose them," you said, as you make your way toward the new customer. It's always been the new ones who pulled a stunt to harass the bar's only female worker. 

Aya successfully yanked her arms away from the scumbag that looked like a bald chicken. Honestly what's with people these days, thinking that fucking feathers on the collar of their coat look cool? Your nose scrunched from disgust. 

Your coworker hastily ran toward the bar counter, the bar went quiet, and the only sound resonating in the place was the clomp of your steps. Some of the patrons snicker, while the others turned away from your direction. 

"What you want four-eyes." The scumbag sneered. 

Steps halted upon reaching the desired distance you tucked both of your hands behind you as you retained a firm posture. 

"I want you out of the establishment. So, finish your drink,  pay, and get out."

"Huh? Don't you know who I am? I'm–" 

You didn't bother listening to Mr. Turkey while he screamed why we should be grateful that he even bothered wasting his time in this bar, believing that a man like him whose worth was twenty-five million deserved better. 

Ugh, cringe. Even if you turn up this guy to the marine the amount of his bounty won't even budge the debt your old hag has. Waste of your time so you cut his blabbering. 

"I warned you. Give you a chance." Mr. Turkey glared at you, trying to intimidate but he looks like a kid throwing a tantrum in your eyes. "Your bounty doesn't even have any value for me or this bar. Pay up or I'll break your bones as a remembrance." 

But the idiot was deluded by his nonexistent fame, just had to choose violence today. As he pulled out a pistol the scumbag didn't even blink or think for a second to fire his gun. A loud clash of shuttered glass crushed behind you. 

Clicking your tongue from the sheer stupidity of the man you retaliate by giving the scumbag a hard sucker punch above the abdomen. Before the man even falls from his knee you grab the hand holding a gun, twisting the limb enough to dislocate. The man screamed along with a thud from the pistol falling on the floor. And you haven't broken any of his bones yet and Mr. Turkey was already squawking. 

You glance at your boss's distraught wince behind the bar counter. Although Dave was keeping a steel-hard expression he was failing miserably. 

"I'll be out for a while boss, gonna dump this trash."

"S-sure." 

Dragging the wailing new customer out of the bar, one of the patrons added a line from the old tally board that was supposed to be for the dart game tally score. Now converted to the number of new customers you had to dispose of. 

…

After getting rid of the trash you were busy unwrapping a lollipop to help ease the tension in your senses. The walk back from the bar wasn't far from the place where you dumped the garbage of a man the scumbag is. 

As you gained close distance to the bar you saw your coworker with a few of the patrons standing right outside, peeking through the window. 

"Oi, why are you all outside? And John, have you paid for your drink already?"

The man you mention scrambled to his spot as he searched in his pocket. But before you grab the payment Aya grabs your wrist, tugging you along toward the door. In your confusion, you just follow while reminding John to pay next time instead. 

"What's going on? Is there a new one causing a ruckus again? I swear–" you stopped halfway, stunned when you saw the lone person sitting right in the middle of the bar seats from the bar counter. 

Your senses confuse the reaction of your body activating your heightened perception. The aura you traced was familiar along with the scent of old books and wine you only detect from the man living on the gloomy island. You bit the lollipop harder than intended, crushing the candy under the force. 

"Ah, you're finally here y/n. Can you please accompany Mr. Dracule for a while, as I ready his crate?" 

Glaring at your uncle he instantly scurries off toward the backdoor. To be honest, if you don't need your uncle to be the temporary owner of your beloved father's bar you're not letting the coward order you around. Dave is such a scaredy cat. 

"Sure, boss." You almost sneered but being inside the establishment your body went rigid from shifting into your professional mode. 

Chucking the stalk of the lollipop into the trash bin you stood towards the side of the bar sink and started wiping the glasses. 

"Is there something you need Mr. Dracule?" You asked not even batting an eye towards the lone man. Only focus on your task at hand. His mere existence bothers you even in the safety of your sanctuary.

"Hmm, it seems I've grown tired of my recent selection. I want to ask for a recommendation but I don't trust the old fool's judgment."  

 And as if he hadn't gotten under your skin you felt like being skinned where you stand. "Apologies Mr. Dracule but I'm just an apprentice, my level of expertise hasn't reached that level yet."

"Are you saying I'm wasting the second chance I gave to your business? The old fool already told me your predicament. The supposed true heir of this establishment can't receive the ownership because of the debt your mother passed on your shoulders." The glass in your hold shuttered as the rage in you triggered. "You know what I am asking Delver." 

He's testing his patronage, testing you if you are competent enough to cater to his alcoholic indulgence. 

Not hiding the seething anger rumbling in your chest you stare at him. You're on the verge of lashing out but the pain in your palm and the memory of your father were enough to ground you. 

Trembling from self-restraint you bow, "Thank you, sir, for the generous reminder and opportunity. I apologize again for my insolence." The words passed out of your mouth rang grossly in your ears. You are not the kind of person to voice gratitude lightly but you have to for this asshole. "I'll check if we still have the stock of the wine I have in mind." And with that, you left knowing well he intends to wait for your return. 

Upon reaching the cellar Dave instantly perked up from your direction. "Why are you here y/n?"

"To grab a new bottle for our important customer. And sorry to disappoint but you shouldn't bother filling the crate. Bloody Dracula decides it's time to cut ties with our business since Father is now gone," you explained while scanning the wine shelf. The only clue you got in the recluse's preference is his current brand. A signature blend of your father. 

"Oh no. Y-y/n w-were doom! And you're bleeding. Your hand is bleeding y/n."

"I am aware, uncle. But indeed we are." You rolled your eyes when your uncle's pathetic cries and whimpers bounced around the chilly cellar. "If you're gonna be an annoying crybaby go back upstairs. I don't need your whiny ass here. And while you're at it being on your knees, pray for whoever god you believe in. Since I have none. Because I'll be needing a damn miracle right now." Ignoring the pain in your palm, ignoring the shattered piece still embedded in your flesh, you concentrate. 

With so little time to spare you dug at the deepest part of your memories to remember every good wine your father preferred. But you're not serving your father. You are serving a man who has sophisticated taste and years of wine-drinking experience. The conclusion is you can't rely on what your father might have already offered to his expressionless customer. 

As you emerge from the backdoor with a bottle in your grasp you can only hope that the wine you've been glaring at for a while can save your ass from the upcoming humiliation and losing a long-time customer. 

On your way toward the bar counter, you catch a glimpse of your uncle from the front window. The sight of him outside annoyed you to no end, a coward through and through. Can't give you a bit of his support even just to be by your side. 

Not even bothering for small talk, you start introducing the bottle in your hold, just like how your father taught you. After the first phase, you grab a wine glass and pour the ruby red shade of liquid in. An obvious difference from the darker shade of full-bodied wine he was drinking. 

The pain in your chest is tight and consuming. As if no amount of oxygen is enough to rid the sensation of being drowned. The tension becomes palpable while you watch Mr. Dracule doing the first step in wine tasting. And then he did the second, he swirled the content of the glass before bringing the rim of the glass right under his nose. At that moment you want to collapse since you can't sense anything from the man. Not even your scent-detecting skill picks any of his emotions. 

Shaky long intake dragged in and your lungs burn from being neglected for long. As he swirled the glass again for the last check. The last one is the most crucial and if you fail it proves you are not worthy to take on the name of your father or even his business. The only thing you are so willing to fight for in your life. 

You barely feel anything at this point, not even the pain from your palm fazes you from the rigid stance of your body. The bead of sweat on the side of your head rolled down tickling your neck from the sheer coldness. You're even having goosebumps from the simple wait for this man's verdict. 

Mr. Dracule stares at the glass as if the ruby liquid speaks to him. He sure knows how to antagonize people with his silence. 

"For an amateur that you claim to be, you boldly choose an interesting type," he said, placing the glass down. 

Not knowing if his statement was a good thing or not, you start to panic since you still can't detect his emotions. Until… a thought just came up with you. If he knows about your father, did he delve deeper into your background? And finally, put two and two together. 

He pushed the glass in front of you and the next words that came past from his curled lips made you choked up from disbelief. 

"Fill up the glass and tell the old fool to change half of my orders with this brand."

When you thought you were finally getting rid of your ties with the recluse warlord, he told you the opposite of what you anticipated. You are not so looking forward to this development. 

…

After the greatest scare in your life yet, knowing you are now stuck being the warlord's personal wine supplier. You are now walking behind him with his crate towards the direction of the port. Because he demanded your assistance. Asshole.

"Why am I not surprised," you mumbled, voice flat like a fucking flatline. As you eyed the boat that resembles the shape of a coffin. And a big crossed shape sail with a throne-like chair in the middle, including two candles to complete the motif. Of course, he is sailing a coffin boat, it makes sense. A coffin boat, a gloomy ass island, and living in a castle alone, it totally makes sense. 

You are having a migraine. 

"Sorry Mr. Dracule but here's your crate. I'm not stepping on your boat." 

"Scared?" He asked as he grabbed the crate. 

"No. More like irked. But you got the right idea for being original and menacing at the same time." Also sad, but you didn't include the last part. "Well, see you next month. Have a safe trip Mr. Dracule." With your parting words, you turned around and walked back to the path leading to your beloved establishment.

…

As the lone man standing on the coffin boat watches the retreating figure he undid the restraint of his emotions, although his expression remains neutral. The annoying yearning starts to prickle in his chest once again. Annoying yet bizarre since he couldn't seem 

to stop. He can only hope the reaction is nothing but a passing fancy. 

"Glasses. It fits on them. Accentuating more of their sharp eyes."

He closed his eyes for a moment before deciding to set sail. It's been a while since he met someone interesting. Interesting enough to gouge a reaction in him. But for how long he wonders? 

#mihawk x reader #one piece x reader #x reader #writing #freewritting

[number1120]

Subject R.T.Z.

For @d-structive... based off of this.

Tw: gore, death mentioned, mention of abuse, mention of sexual abuse, slight mention of rape

Welcomed readers: @10th-no-name-person

********************************

"What has he been doing?"

"Since he's got here?" The nurse looked back at Dr. Reese then back at the one-way window. "Subject R.T.Z. just been taping his fingers, muttering about something," the nurse started clicking their mouse and pulled up the electronic file of the subject. "Honestly, I'm getting freaked out by how calm he is."

Dr. Reese pulled back his short brown hair as he started to put it up in a bun. "It's good that he's calm, right? That mean less work for The Guard."

The nurse looked back at him then at the screen. "According to his files, he's, well... dangerous." The nurse pulled up pictures of the basement that they found the subject in. "I mean, no one in their right mind would do something like this!"

The pictures showed a blood smeared basement. The dark black floors with puddles of blood here and there, names written in blood on the walls, body parts moved and mismatched from different people laid on the stain table like a puzzle. Next to the table, operating tools and different knives laid too neat in a tray, all clean, perfect, and ready to be used on their next target. Mangled bookshelves lined the wall with jars filled to the brim with organs like hearts, livers, lungs. What really got Dr. Reese to look away was a jar filled with different eyes, all stained with dried blood and ripped muscles, looking right into the camera as if they could see through his soul.

"He doesn't have a mind, Tim," Dr. Reese informed. "Remember? R.T.Z. have a mixed brain, so his mind will forever be gone." Then he looked up at the subject and shuddered. "He's a zombie. He's not alive."

"If he's so gone, then how can he talk? Feel? Move, Reese?" Tim looked up at him from the desk then back at the subject, who was now looking through his own file. A smirk started to form over his lips as he went through the missing person's list. "Why is he smiling?"

Before Dr. Reese could answer, a voice came over the speaker. "Because they got what they fucking deserve."

Their eyes shot up and were terrified to see the subject looking at them-- right at them.

His ghostly white eyes held no emotion as he looked back at the files, finding a missing person, and showed the person. "See this man? He molested three fourteen-year-old girls and two boys. I took my fucking time with him, and I sent all his body pieces to the victims. Shit," he laughed, "one of them sent me a thank-you card!" Then the subject flipped through more of the files and showed a picture of a woman. "She abused her kids while on drugs and drunk! The police knew and did nothing. Like, what the hell? Oh! And this guy?" He picked up the picture under the woman's file. "He abused his wife and forced himself onto his son!" With one motion, he angrily pushed the files off the table. "That man's son begged me to kill his father because this place wouldn't do a thing! I even let him have the last blow! And," his harden voice softened for just a moment, "I even comforted him afterwards. I don't like hugs or giving affection, but he needed it!"

Robbie's voice harden once more as his eyes narrowed right at the doctor. "You sick bastards watched as these families suffered and did nothing! So, I took matters in my own two hands."

After calming his shaking breath, Dr. Reese stepped closer to the window and pressed a button to talk to him. "Can you see us?"

The subject let out another laugh. "I wish! But, no. I can hear you and that little mouse at your hip. Tell me, doctor," he leaned back in his chair and lifted a brow, "when are you going to tell your wife that you and that little thing have been fucking in the closet? Or," he cocked his head to the side, his smile still wide, "do I need to send your dick in a box, perfectly wrapped, with a pretty bow?"

Dr. Reese's eyes narrowed as he felt his anger grow with a mixture of anxiety. "How do you--"

"But, before we go any farther, you know your fancy chains wouldn't hold me, right, gentlemen?" He held up his wrist and pulled tightly on the chains and snapped the cuffs in half. He stood up and stretched as Dr. Reese frantically pressed the bright red panic button on the desk, Tim standing from his seat in a sweat.

"Subject R.T.Z., sit--"

"My name is Robbie," the zombie snapped, a hand running through his bright lavender hair. "And I'm not a fucking subject!" His hand hooked around the chair and threw it at window, cracking it slightly. His white eyes started to burn as he looked right at the window. "Henrik made me! He made me to be stronger and brighter than him!" He picked up the chair again and threw it harder at the window, breaking it more. "I am not yours! I am not your toy! I am a goddamn person!"

"That's not alive!" Dr. Reese yelled at the window. Any minute now, armed guards in tackle suits will be breaking down the door and taking him out. "You are not human--!"

Robbie picked up the chair and threw it again, shattering the window in a perfect throw. Dr. Reese stumbled back and held up his arm to shield himself from the flying glass. Pieces covered his arms and scattered like rain and bullets. As he lowered his arm, he saw Robbie's shadow standing in the dim light, his eyes glowing in the darkness, his hands balled into fists. For a moment, a brief moment, he looked like Patient A, and that scared Dr. Reese. Shaking, he stumbled back, shielding the nurse behind him. Outside, he could hear guards coming their way, their gear hitting each other.

The zombie rolled his shoulders, cracking his muscles with ease. "Twenty seconds, doctor," he hummed as he placed his foot on the broken window, jumping the broken window with ease. "It takes twenty seconds to rip out a throat." Madness filled his as hand hand picked up a shard of glass. "And I would love for another doctor like yourself to see my art."

#jse egos #robbie the zombie #jacksepticegos #jacksepticeye #my writing #freewritting #free write #whump #tw gore #tw abuse #jse community #jacksepticeye egos #i.r.i.s #jse iris

[luzidreamz1111]

I never stopped loving you, it has only made everything that much harder.

How do you look at someone you know has caused pain in so many lives the same?

Your actions created ripples in the lives you touched and affected. Not only did your touch change these people forever, but you also took something from them they could never get back. If my silence comes across as lack of love; just know that in this case my silence speaks volumes. You altered the lives of so many including mine, & me standing in silence speaks for those you’ve hurt along the way.

For all that you took my absence has been your greatest karma.

#my writing #poetry #letting go #poetic justice #real life #imreal #im human #my past #my story #your not alone #weallhaveastory #beating heart #i write #bleeding rose #emotions #spilled thoughts #writing #freewritting #free write #different paths #father #hurt/comfort #don't mind me #let it go #painful thoughts #confronting #breakingbarriers #healing #writing is life #hear me out

[thegnomemerchant]

if i had a superpower, i would want to be invisible. i want to sit under a willow tree in the spring, sprawl out on my roof on a summer day. i want to run across my yard and frolic in fields. i want to walk past shops and stop to examine flowers on the side of the road. i want to drive with my windows down, music blaring, and sing my heart out. i want to do all of that without the pressure and anxiety of ever being perceived by another living person ever.

#superpowers #relatable #springtime #random thoughts #random #freewritting #living my best life

[pretty-littlebrat]

Untitled Poem

By: Me

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

I took time today to look back at us

On what we were

What we could have been and what we weren't

We started off as strangers only for our relationship to become playful and exciting 

We grew into each other 

Not being able to escape the thought of us

Consumed by your touch and words we became more than friends

But not ever making it far enough to become one

Slowly and painfully we grew apart 

Drowning in thoughts of what went wrong

Were I went wrong 

“Was it me”

 “Did I do something wrong for you to leave us incomplete”

Suffocated by the lone thought of you

But I had to let go of every thought

Every sadden look we exchanged 

I’ll replace your touch and words with someone new

To try and forget the idea of you

To be able to sleep without you suffocating my head

Weeks have pasts and now you're near

Trying to reach back 

I don't know why but I still accept you

Bringing you back in to fill the emptiness you left

It was as if nothing had happened 

As if we hadn't fallen apart

We remain friends but with tension

The tension of our past 

Though we both are too scared to go further 

So we are friends “Just friends”

But I still can't help to think of what we were, what we could have been, and what we weren't

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

I wrote this about me and someone in my life.

This is my first poem so please let me know your opinion on it.

Also if you guys have any title suggestions that would be great!

#poem #poems #love poems #my poem #love #love poetry #poetry #writers and poets #original poem #poetic #just friends #sad peoms #sad poetry #heartbreak #heartache #freewritting #pretty-littlebrat #Spotify

[freakshow-entries]

My Black Cloud

I have never been the type of girl who knows what she wants in life. I can never choose what I want to eat for dinner, I can never pick my favorite flowers, and I can never express the way I feel. But as I get older, I can feel a familiar emotion lingering around me. It consumes me, it does not let me physically get up from bed. I am not allowed to eat, I am not allowed to speak to anyone, I am not allowed to even use the restroom. I have so much going on in my mind but at the same time, it is all a blissful static. How can I know what this feeling is when I do not even know if I like it? Lurking in the shadows, waiting to creep out after having a good day with friends. After finally accomplishing something I am so very proud of, here it comes reminding me of my forever black cloud. Always by my side. A never-ending soulmate that I did not ask for. How will I explain this to someone? How can I? Will I ever be loved with this? Would this be a deal breaker? Would they understand or would they just think I'm crazy and run for the hills? Can I ever be loved? Can I love? My little black cloud, it will always be you and I. I have gotten this far in life with it, it no longer feels like a burden. It doesn't feel uncomfortable. It feels like a part of me, that I forced myself to love. But I know it would be hard to let go. If I ever let go. Can I let go? Just let go.

#mental health #mentally fucked #bpd thoughts #bpd vent #literature #freewritting #poems and poetry #poems on tumblr #self love #depressing shit

[peaceandlov3]

Healing through words has different exercises to help you learn how to freewrite and to help you heal through words. I wanted to share one of my entries! It's a letter to anxiety!

Dear anxiety,

Hello again! My forever friend! You come and visit me multiple times a day and sometimes you don't go away! I beg you daily to let me be, but you constantly try to betray me! You constantly make me self-doubt myself, even when I'm feeling on top! You make me fear life non-stop! I can't even carry on a conversation if the energy is not just right! Because of you... You're supposed to help me with my fight or flight, not with every step that I take through life! I know past traumatic events have kept you around! To protect me! So I can continue to be found! But I'm healing, I'm growing, I'm continuing to evolve into the best version I know how! But, here you are always around! I wish I didn't dislike you so much! Because in the end, all we have is us! But that comes down to trust! As I continue to release past traumatic events, can you trust me that I will be okay? You and I are like yin and yang. We have to find the balance!

Love, yourself ☯️💕

#rupi kuar #freewritting #learning #growing #healing #anxiety #positivity is key

[glimpseofabyss]

My beloved ,you are the only reason i would ask the gods to resurrect me into this much dreaded world. I would have gladly given you my last breath and i would have taken yours as well , as a token of your miraculous existence, my liberation. But forgive me, it seems as thought you have failed to preserve yourself only for me, leading to my heart growing cold once again. My muse…a heart once shattered by you, does not know salvation. The only thing that awaits an emotionless being such as me, who was once fooled by your warmth, is the abyss.

#poetry #literature #writers on tumblr #freewritting #heartbroken #love poem #dedication #abyss #existential dread #Spotify

[mistheletter]

Through time… the temperature has risen. The climate has changed. Through time… our power has faded. The jewels are no longer bright. Through time… through time. If dimming is walking and shining has gone before, then darkness is but the goal through time…

#writing #freewritting #aging

[fr-sane]

Percent

Do this. Do that. Do everything right. It must be perfect!

Be smart, respectful, kind. Most importantly, you must win!

Don't dare to come down if you're already at the top. But, it's not enough.

I ran my whole life to a circus of love; I thought it was. I kept the chain of thorns you left. I pushed toward the greatness I will never be. I never once had pure happiness, caused by unrealistic standards you had set for me.

Why does genuine love seem too far away to grasp?

I did everything right, like how you told me to, But why am I in a vast sea, still working on things I've been wronged at?

People still talk; they still ruin the hardships that I endured, What I built in years, Crumbling to the words of some people who didn't even feel the slightest pain you caused.

#freewritting #freedom #poetry #my poetry #random #my poem #poem #short poem #poets on tumblr #freewriting