#i dont want to have to fucking message a person every time i want to say something

[deesseshesca]

PILE 1

His veiny hands, his strong bicep, his tattoo and the fact that everything he does screams masculinity. He’s amazing knowledge in alcohol or the fucking way he drive a car with so much assurance. His signature perfume and the way he never talks loud but always what's right. Did you ever find a man in finance this secure in himself with no God complex…yeah no that doesn't exist. But it's only right that he feels for you. The more I spend time observing you … I understand why he's falling… I am 2 .. I guess. Let’s start by the creativity that breathes out of you with everything you do. Is like you are in love with the whole woman's experience which can be seen by the way you take care of your hair ; long and healthy. You don't just stop there, you color them and style it  anytime you want. The freckles that decorate your face like you are living painting. Your perfect nose and small but luscious lips. Is the way you are fine not being everyone's type and you don't care to change. You with your long and beautifully manicured nails. The way you love on your body unapologetically even though is not the standard in modern beauty. You never complain about your boobs being too big, your butt being too small or even your hips being too wide. Nah you wear whatever you want. Flowing dress, deep cut shirt with no bra not caring that your tits are sagging. What makes you even more intrigued is the complexity that lives beneath your beauty, elegance and confidence. You fucking love cars, passionate about it. I would have never guessed it, I would think you were an artist or even a mua but nah mamacita is trying to become an engineer. Is almost like life never hurted, never controlled, never took the best out of you. You decide to be your own person no matter what and your authenticity can be seen, admired, and envy by many including me. In my case I was pushed into this bimbo character. Need to act, look and be always be perfect since I could remember. Making sure to eat properly so I don't gain to much weight, making sure to message my skin so my boob dont sag, make sure to shave everywhere on my body, make sure to straighten my curls because curly ain't sexy, making sure to never skip a leg day so the butt stay juicy, making sure to have a clear skin. And it does not stop there … making sure I moan seductively, make sure I know how suck good, making sure I am submissive enough. I did it all to please … the one I want, stay unimpressed while the other treats me like lesser women because all they can think of is having sex. Actually you guys are so cute together, the way you like to act like you don't see him applying  pressure. Always touching you any chance he gets, always looking at you across the room, always having your back when you need a ride back home even when the party's at his place. While you tease him, give him kisses across his face every so often, while giving him compliments with your beautiful voice, seducing him with your healthy femininity. Today, in the bathroom, too many drink in my system, hiding while writing this fucking email … I must admit that you have influence me. Because the man I love, loves you for you. Not a version of you made to please, made to seduce, made to only be relevant for the other sex. Maybe it is time for me to admit that all this is in vain … because being the standard did not make me pick, choose or even love. In all fucking honesty I am tired to prove that I am nice enough, fun enough, sexy enough, kind enough … Fuck… can I not just be enough ? (tears on the screen, somebody calls her name) 

Fuck is not like you are even going to read this anyways…

VIBES: New beginning, fresh start, new couple, love at first sight, red string theory, cant get enough of each other, a lot of tension, chemistry and perfect match. 

A lot of people are happy y’all find each other because you were both unfulfilled in love.

[itsalwaysdark]

i like overthink everything now it makes me feel so dumb. i used 2 be able to just talk 2 ppl but nowadays every single thing im like Is that actually going to make them hate me. Yes probably. and then i just dont respond which makes ppl hate me. this is how it is

[vermin-fangs]

Being condescending to poor & disabled people who have less than you is definitely a good way to get donations, I'm sure that's really working out for the people you are trying to help. What's the exchange rate exactly for superiority points

[glassanimalcollective]

.

[swagging-back-to]

im littchhherally so over constantly putting 220% into every conversation and getting the most dry and uninterested/uninteresting replies in existence.

[snekdood]

if words are not enough to get a manipulative person to leave you tf alone and hit the road, wtf are ya supposed to do? maybe throw a small toy at them to send a message

[melissa-titanium]

GOD therseomuch shit to do i thought id have time today to DO stuff. its the fucking weekend why do ihave to do 2 classes and go outside and literally do something for school . the weekDAYS are always busy i havent had a free moment since i fucking joined

[skylilac]

i love talking to her but we are so bad at talking

[stupidnaturals]

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[phagodyke]

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[s1llybug]

trying to process and heal from the trauma that a certain someone caused me and trying to talk myself through it (while being plural and mentally unstable) is currently going somewhere along these lines

(warning: some pretty triggering and very personal discussions from me in the tags however feel free to just relate to the funny pitture)

[synthetic-sonata]

good lord got a post put on my dash that was some Fandom Opinion blog talking ab how things irl shouldn't be mentioned in spaces where it's not meant for. curiously, i searched racism, and well, what you expected to happen happened,

[shithivemaggot]

hhfbb

[alicentlesbian]

i keep getting so fucking sad about how tumblr is most likely going to die soon-ish. every other social media sucks ass and having an irl social life is nearly impossible for me (so social media and fandom is important to me) and even if i could find friends everyone in my city is too goddamn normal for me to want to befriend. i dont want to be friends with the boring normal neurotypical people in my city who have no real interests or hobbies i want to be friends with people who are extremely mentally ill and autistic about television

[moody-alcoholic]

On a Wing and a Prayer

Part 2 - Not Guilty

As promised part 2 because I have no self control... CW: Dead dove don't eat , torture, no comfort yet.

Previous parts - masterlist - next

It's different today. They’ve switched tactics.

John came in with a box. Simon reaches in and pulls out a snake. 

They’re using your fear against you. 

Something you told them in confidence, a secret, something vulnerable you told them. It brings tears, makes a pit form in your stomach as you remember you can’t move. You can't escape.

John holds your head in place as Simon agitates the snake causing it to hiss. You try to turn away but John holds you firm.

“Tell us what you know and this can all go away.” His voice is low in your ears. 

“I don’t know anything.” You whimper as Simon moves closer. You’re kicking your legs, or trying to. They're strapped down just like your arms. You’re powerless to stop them, what if it's poisonous? What if it bites you? 

You never thought you would prefer a method of torture more then another. You never thought you would be in this position. The water-boarding still continues. Only this time when you open your eyes you’re face to face with your biggest fear. 

You've not screamed before. Even as they hurt you, even as they broke your resolve. You’re screaming now. It feels like a fever dream, between the lack of oxygen and the constant presence of your fear, you can't even focus on John's questions. 

“I don't know anything, please make it stop!” You beg as you keep your eyes squeezed shut, your head hanging down as you sob. You’re cold and tired, your body shaking. It’s been hours, at least you don’t think you’re afraid of snakes anymore.

The door to the room fly's open, you look up, it's Kate with a tablet in her hands and a look of horror on her face.

“It's not her.” She says. John takes the table out of her hands. “We’ve seen the messages. We have the guy.”  Someone else is in the room now pushing past her. Kyle, he comes straight over to you. He presses his warm hands on your face. You try to smile at him but you can’t.

It almost doesn't feel real. 

“Laswell, go get a medic!” It's Kyle’s voice level and controlled. You feel your restraints loosen and you slump against Kyle. There's another hand on your shoulder. 

Maybe it's not over yet.

“No! Don’t fucking touch her.” The hand leaves as Kyle pulls you to your feet wrapping your arm around his shoulders supporting you as you lean against him.

You can’t remember the last time you were on your feet. You look back. You see Simon looking at the tablet now, John's eyes focused on you as Kyle pulls you closer, his arm gripping your waist. 

You dont think you’ve ever seen that look on John’s face before. 

Fear.

You barely register meeting the medics halfway to the medbay. Hands touch you, your body is moved but you stay silent only nodding or shaking your head at them.

You’re poked and prodded, your body examined from head to toe. Kyle is always there, you see him out of the corner of your eye. His arms crossed his gaze soft, sometimes talking to the medics.

Then you’re alone again. 

Your mind turns to Johnny, he's in this hospital somewhere. Fighting for his life. He’s all you care about now. 

You dont cry again. You want to, tears threatening to spill every time you remember what happened. John's face, his shouting. Simon's eyes, hard and dark like daggers digging into you. 

They’ve made requests to see you. You refuse. The only person you’ll see is Kyle but even then you barely speak a word to him. He keeps you updated on Johnny's condition. He avoids topics about Simon and John. 

He still asks you every time he visits if you’ve got anything you want to pass onto them. That's when you have to bite down on the inside of your cheek and look away. Hoping you haven’t betrayed yourself. 

You’ll never let them see you cry again.

That night you sneak out of your room. Your body is stiff and sore but you don’t care, you want to see Johnny. You need to see him. After a little bit of searching you find his room, he’s alone on the other side of the ward. 

That's when you cry, when you see his body laid up in bed connected to tubes and wires one even shoved down his throat breathing for him. You pull a chair up next to his bed, you take his hand in yours lacing your fingers with his. 

This feels like your fault, maybe it is. Or maybe it’s the fact you’ve spent the last few days being told it is. You stroke his arm telling him how sorry you are. That's where you let the tears out. You let yourself be upset with them, angry at them, the people you love. 

Or maybe loved. 

They’re not the same people you knew before you were locked in the room. And neither are you.

next I need overprotective Kyle in my life Banners by firefly-graphics

[iceddmatcha]

posting a lot today but allowing myself to take up space and relax and vent soooooooo!