moodiful819

Professional Jellyfish

Posts tagged words

34,760 notes

Careful, honey, it’s loaded,” he said, reentering the bedroom.

Her back rested against the headboard. “This for your wife?”

“No. Too chancy. I’m hiring a professional.”

“How about me?”

He smirked. “Cute. But who’d be dumb enough to hire a lady hit man?”

She wet her lips, sighting along the barrel.

“Your wife.

"Bedtime Story" by Jeffrey Whitmore (via talesofnorth)

(via gingerbreadcat)

Filed under words

54 notes

on why you're not mine

maddishly:

I.
Ink and silence, like cigarettes

and alcohol, are vices. I’ve become
so used to not speaking aloud,
dust is collecting under my tongue
and I’m a wallflower garden of one.
I was still hiding when we met.
You were waltzing at a four-four party,
but when you asked me to…

Filed under words

330,062 notes

velvetqueer:

uhmwillowsomething:

huesosmccoy:

why do people say “don’t be a pussy” when talking about weakness more like “don’t be a man’s ego” because you know there isn’t nothing more fragile than that

uh 

because “pussy” is the shortened form of the word “pusillanimous”, which means “timid, cowardly”

and not the slang word for the female genital region?

literally no one else knows this. nobody. 

(Source: littlemixens, via hani-blah)

Filed under words /screaming mind is blown shooting up my heart chart

276,546 notes

echowraith:

owlgoggles20:

astutes:

A clock that writes the time.

This is so unnecessary I’ll take 20

You glance over at your new clock; it’s a neat clock, a clever little machine that writes out the numbers. It’s 20:06. You wish that it had a standard variant instead of just military. You’re not used to it. You do a quick calculation. That’s… 10? No, it’s 8 pm… well, 8:06. 
Your gaze slides off of the clock and you return to your work. It’s very important work. Though, if you were being honest with yourself, you’re actually returning to your break FROM work. It’s been a rather long break. What time is it again? You glance. Ah, right Twenty-Oh-Six. You’ll start working again at 8:30. That was reasonable. No one should expect a person to start a thing at an odd time like 20:06. You return to your break.
It’s been some time and with a hint of dread you check the clock, expecting your break to be over. It’s  20:06. 
You suppose you must have misread it earlier. With enough time left, you go to make yourself a snack.
You return to your desk and settle in and see if your break is over yet. It’s 20:06.
Is the clock broken? It must be. You stare at it for a while, a long while, deciding if such a neat clock deserved fixing even though it had broken so soon. The robotic arm moves. You suck in an involuntary breath as the clock erases the number. Maybe it wouldn’t have to be repaired after all.
It writes “2 0 : 0 6”
For some reason, you shiver. You decide it’s time to start working again. You work. You can’t help but to glance at the clock frequently. It’s been more than a minute you’re sure but pen hasn’t moved yet and as you think that it lifts, erases, and writes “20:06”
You giggle a little high, tight sound. You push away from the keyboard to watch the now still clock intently. You count, timing your breaths to the seconds. Sixty seconds elapse and it is still. 
Ninety. 
One-hundred. 
One-hundred thirty-three counts pass before the clock writes again to inform you, to insist that it is 20:06 once again.
The ‘minute’ seemed faster than last time. You feel a rush of adreneline and stare intently hoping to find a pattern and begin counting again. After fifty-seven counts it rewrites 20:06.
…
Twenty-five. It’s 20:06
…
Ten. It’s 20:06.
Your heart thuds and your breathing is heavy. It’s coming so fast now. You can’t tear your eyes away.
It’s 20:06.
…
…
It’s 20:06
…
It’s 20:06.
It’s 20:06.
It’s 20:06. It’s 20:06. It’s20:06, it’s20:06 it’s20:06it’s20:06 20:06 20:06 20:06

echowraith:

owlgoggles20:

astutes:

A clock that writes the time.

This is so unnecessary I’ll take 20

You glance over at your new clock; it’s a neat clock, a clever little machine that writes out the numbers. It’s 20:06. You wish that it had a standard variant instead of just military. You’re not used to it. You do a quick calculation. That’s… 10? No, it’s 8 pm… well, 8:06. 

Your gaze slides off of the clock and you return to your work. It’s very important work. Though, if you were being honest with yourself, you’re actually returning to your break FROM work. It’s been a rather long break. What time is it again? You glance. Ah, right Twenty-Oh-Six. You’ll start working again at 8:30. That was reasonable. No one should expect a person to start a thing at an odd time like 20:06. You return to your break.

It’s been some time and with a hint of dread you check the clock, expecting your break to be over. It’s  20:06. 

You suppose you must have misread it earlier. With enough time left, you go to make yourself a snack.

You return to your desk and settle in and see if your break is over yet. It’s 20:06.

Is the clock broken? It must be. You stare at it for a while, a long while, deciding if such a neat clock deserved fixing even though it had broken so soon. The robotic arm moves. You suck in an involuntary breath as the clock erases the number. Maybe it wouldn’t have to be repaired after all.

It writes “2 0 : 0 6”

For some reason, you shiver. You decide it’s time to start working again. You work. You can’t help but to glance at the clock frequently. It’s been more than a minute you’re sure but pen hasn’t moved yet and as you think that it lifts, erases, and writes “20:06”

You giggle a little high, tight sound. You push away from the keyboard to watch the now still clock intently. You count, timing your breaths to the seconds. Sixty seconds elapse and it is still. 

Ninety. 

One-hundred. 

One-hundred thirty-three counts pass before the clock writes again to inform you, to insist that it is 20:06 once again.

The ‘minute’ seemed faster than last time. You feel a rush of adreneline and stare intently hoping to find a pattern and begin counting again. After fifty-seven counts it rewrites 20:06.

Twenty-five. It’s 20:06

Ten. It’s 20:06.

Your heart thuds and your breathing is heavy. It’s coming so fast now. You can’t tear your eyes away.

It’s 20:06.

It’s 20:06

It’s 20:06.

It’s 20:06.

It’s 20:06.
It’s 20:06. It’s20:06, it’s20:06 it’s20:06it’s20:06 20:06 20:06 20:06

(via megii-of-mysteri-ousstranger)

Filed under words