This just in;
[12:13:33 AM] ☂ 【ᴶᵉˢˢ】: Frank’s mic’s taking one hell of a beating these days
[[ sure is! ]]
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@desiiiiderium
This just in;
[12:13:33 AM] ☂ 【ᴶᵉˢˢ】: Frank’s mic’s taking one hell of a beating these days
[[ sure is! ]]
springlxck replied to your post:[ slowly slides url then runs ]
[ I’d love to continue the last roleplay we had been doing! ]
[[ Yooo let’s do it! Think it was my turn! I’ll check tomorrow! ]]
“I’m doing this for you.”
“NO! I want ya ta stop it, Sis!”
Aaron grit his teeth and took a deep breath, dragging his hands down his face. He didn’t like it, didn’t like the scars that littered her torso, all from HIM. Their own personal boogeyman.
“I–I want ya ta stop it! If he comes for me, he comes for me. I ain’t little any more. I can hold my own, and I just..I can’t stand it, Sis. I can’t stand ya takin’ the blows for me now..”
She appears unaffected by his plea. On the outside at least. On the INSIDE, it's a whole different story. She will forever be his SISSY. The one who stepped up to bullies who wanted to make him feel smaller than he really was in the school yard.
And today, she still stands to bullies — it just happens said bully's six foot seven with a keen eye for cruelty but who's checking, right?
❛Can hold your own, huh❜, she repeats. Looks to the side. Sucks her bottom lip then releases it with a pop. ❛You talk like y-you didn't point the pistol you stole from the night guard at muh-m-me the other d-day.❜
Do you ever think about your OTP having muffled, rough sex against a wall
Because I do
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If I can get through this, I can get through anything If I can make it through this - I promise you
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“It’s TIME to let your CREATIVITY flow ...” independent clock & notepad from dhmis written by alice & rae art credit
psa
i am a unapologetic romantic. i love to write it. i love writing the character development, about the initial meeting’s, crushes, unrequited and otherwise. i love looking at the details of their life, sexual & beyond. i love writing smut, i love writing dates, and cute scenes, i like it. & no amount of ‘reblog if ur not looking for d or v’ posts is going to make me feel bad. sex =/= something bad. smut =/= bad. you do not have to reblog those posts in order to justify your ‘holier than thou’ character. because just like in reality, some muses / people are different. acceptance is key, not attempted to shame others into some kind of norm… so yes, there may be a lot of romanc-y like threads on this blog & there may be other times when it’s purely friendship, but making me feel bad for either is kind of ?? wrong.
He'd taken a bad hit. Not just physically but his pride was equally bruised. Let's face it, he was not overly cut for fighting. He could hold his own, but that shank had done a number on his cheek. He sits in the infirmary, legs not even touching the ground, holding the ice pack and the bloody rag to it where the cut was made.
The lady walks in, preps herself. He means to smile a little WIDER but his cheek protests ❛Aaah... um... s'up doc? ❜
“The hardest thing in this world is to live in it.” aYaY B)
She gives him a side glance, eyes squinting ever so slightly.
Very poetic, she thinks, but in the end it’s a little – well, unnecessary.
❛G-Good thing there’s not one LIVING suh-houl within the next fifty feet r-radius then.❜
when u send ur writing partner something super angsty and they start yelling at u
He gives a WHISTLE as he emerges from the dark, an eyebrow quirked, and head slightly cocked to the left. “Uh oh,” a slow, sinister smile finds his features, paired with the grating tone of his voice, “Someone’s wandered a lil’ too FAR from the nest, wouldn’t y’ agree?”
Limp, Frank’s body lay on spread legs with his back supported by the wall. He looked no more alive than he really wasn’t: a lethargic state before re-awaking to AGONY. His hair’s matted in red clumps. Red spreads down his neck and Becky thinks he won’t be HAPPY about that. Oh no, sir! Red on his neck makes him a little SOUR, so it does!
His hands rest loosely in his lap, palms upturned as though awaiting a gift, fingers curled halfway like dead critters. Bruised. Battered. His left leg’s bent at an impossible angle, and one of his opened eyes is pushing too far against the slacked eyelid.
Rebecca’s voice comes in the form of a pathetic whimper. She shouldn’t have come here. He warned her it was too dangerous but he was taking so LONG. He said he could HANDLE it!
Gotta go! Gotta go! Can’t leave him but gotta go!
She dives. Makes to move him with arms clasped around his mid-section, but it's like his body's been filled with wet sand and he hardly moves a few inches. His head flops, drops on her shoulder and his cheek feels like wet rubber against her own.
❛It’s o-okay... It’s okay❜, she whimpers and strokes her fingers through matted locks of his hair.❛I’m ruh-hight here. It’s okay... I’ll g-get y-you out of h-huh-here.❜ A shrill WHISTLE from behind her. Makes her ears RING. She goes white. Then whiter yet when the voice confirms the culprit of that dreadful noise.
Uh oh.
Gotta go! Gotta go! Gotta go!
Except she stays rooted in place. Looks over her shoulder and feels her bladder TIGHTEN. The MONSTER’s right though. They wandered TOO FAR. Frank WARNED her! You'd think this place was the size of a football field sometimes! Gotta go! Gotta go! Gotta go! ❛Yuh-yeah…”, she croaks. “I’ll go. I’ll go, I sh-should – WE’ll go…!❜
Purity Ring - Odebear