#aesthetic not pathetic

[kindamariaa]

[sufrimientilia]

characters on the run

always so tired. driving for hours and hours in whatever shitty beater they find or steal, downing caffeine and too many five-hour energy shots pickpocketed from some gas station

sleeping cramped up in some bus or train seat, slumped over in a transit terminal, hoodie pulled up tight in the hopes of not being recognized

nodding off but jerking awake every single time, exhausted but hardwired to be paranoid even with caretaker's gentle touch and quiet reassurances trying to get them to rest

so much time spent running or fighting they eventually just crash. stoic characters slumped and snoozing, trying to keep watch and instead getting some much needed rest

lurching awake in a cold sweat, gasping and trembling, bandages wrapped tight up and down their torso

"we're safe here. i promise."

"it's okay-- it was just a dream, i didn't hear anything..."

shot or stabbed while trying to lose a chase. limping through crowds, desperately acting causal, traces of blood left on everything they touch

collapsing and drawing a scene, strangers asking questions and touching all over. having to slip away from concerned bystanders before actual help (or trouble) arrives

washing off in some shitty public bathroom and leaving behind a horror show of bloodied paper towels and smeared fingers all over porcelain, too out of it and in a rush to actually bother cleaning up

character bleeding out and semiconscious and caretaker doesn't know what to do, has nowhere to go. desperately trying to drag them along as the threat gets closer and closer, or hiding and waiting and begging for them to wake up

when it's too dangerous to go to a hospital. makeshift first aid in the back of some car, breaking into a vet clinic after hours, slumped over in a dank alleyway or dirty bathroom. shaking fingers and dim lighting and nowhere comfortable to recover

all of the places to lie low are sketchy as hell. trap houses, back rooms, dive bars, strip clubs, late night joints where passing acquaintances are somehow okay with shady strangers crashing on their couch. always surrounded by a bad crowd and caught up in seedy shit

wearing the same clothes which get increasingly fucked up. fabric lost to makeshift bandages or tourniquets, blood stains and sweat, the same hoodie passed between characters getting worn and sentimental

long sleeves, oversized clothes, shitty makeup, hoods and sunglasses and hats, anything to hide their identity and all of the bruises and cuts

barely any money to their name. having to choose between filling up on gas or eating, counting remnants of change, stealing food or dine and dashing out of necessity. barely scrapping by and working any job on the low, just oh so easy to take advantage of

getting sick, but it's not like they get a break from running. feverishly wandering around, catching concerned looks from strangers, never getting the chance to rest properly so they just get worse and worse

getting so desperate they eventually call for help. trembling and hunched over in a phone booth, nervously knocking on caretaker's door, so rundown and pitiful of course they wouldn't be turned away, where the fuck have they been?

[chris-prank]

Halloween costume day 5 (Happy halloween!)

Pathetic yandere barista

Chibi Jacce as a vampire!

He is totally just asking for your blood... 👀

[karnaca78]

11. Sword Law

Blades like the back of your hand know a softer side.

Rip the beast's heart out with a penknife.

[lostl1sbons1ster]

Kill me pills

[flyolai-brainrot]

i am shriveling away

[justanamartins]

She's a rendered drawing and he? he's just Loid 💔💔💔

Wip of Spy x family because my friend started bragging about her life again so I'm not good 🤠👍

[squash1]

listen i am a colin greenmantle Hater to the end but him walking around in a tailored suit jacket and boxers while drinking directly out of a wine bottle that he claims has “notes of black powder and abandonment” and wishing that there was someone their to see just how “aesthetically pathetic and desperate” he looked, is VERY relatable behavior. not to mention him narrating his own downfall in the third person and claiming that despite his nervous breakdown in his late thirties, onlookers will be shocked by his “ability to bounce back from emotional injury.”

[lunoralu]

🐷💰 triggering the pixel pumping perverts dis morning

[felishagurl]

Never make a mess - swallow EVERY DROP!

[mayugoo]

Sighsss

I caved

[yanyandere]

you’re cutest when you’re pathetic ~obsessed golden retriever boy haru’s disciplinary sex~ // support the artist (eng)

[strawglicks]

lotsa graham

[academic-vampire]

In conclusion: don’t be mean to me 😞

[liliesdiary]

Can u make ethans pathetic doll but in pink??? ilyy

Ethan Landry's Pathetic Pink Doll

thank you for the request angel, ily <3

[kuunibal]

"Tell me again," he whispers, his voice rough with emotion.

"I love you."

How long has it been since he heard those three little words? He had never gotten used to such simple expressions of affection in the past, and he certainly hasn't gotten used to it now after months of cessation. He can't bear to look at her. Tears start to well up in his eyes; his words are strangled in his throat. He is weak (always, still) for her and her alone.

"Again."

She says his name so sweetly that he can hear her smile when she says it, feeling the ghost of her soft fingers gently holding his cheek from the deepest vestiges of his memory.

"I love you."

His knees buckle under the weight of her love, sinking to the ground painfully swift in front of her. She doesn't motion to stop him, unable to.

"Please."

He doesn't know if he is asking her to continue or to stop because it's so much, too much.

"I love you. I'll love you forever and always. I'm yours."

And then he pitifully sobs at her feet, caving in on himself and shaking with his hands covering his face. He wants to hear those words cried from her lips for the rest of eternity, he wants them to be the last thing she says, he wants it all to be the truth. A part of him knows that her words are only honeyed lies and that she just repeated the sweet nothings he used to tell her once upon a time. Her tone sounds loving, but he knows, he knows that she's an actress who pleads with him for her life. But if he closes his eyes, he can imagine that those precious words are true.

She is still tied to a plush chair: strong, stable, yet suffocatingly soft (for her comfort, all for her) in a soundproofed room he designed to look familiar to her. He can't let her go. But he desperately wishes that his heart was able to so he could free her and himself from his violent lovesickness and prison of his own making.