@odetodrowning - Tumblr Blog

Confession: I’ve been on tumblr for over 10 years and I don’t think I’ve ever understood how it works.

But god do I live for kinktober.

#reddit #reddit migration #confession #kinktober #reddit refugee #tumblr #wtf is r196

studying history is like. here's to another beautiful day of not being pregnant and of having no obligation to ever be. thank you women who fight for abortion and contraception and independance from men for another beautiful day of not being pregnant and of having no obligation to ever be

dante-mightdie

Oh but there’s just something about simon who has been MIA for a good few months, maybe even a couple of years until he finally appears on your doorstep again one random day

but he’s not the simon you remembered. he’s not the same man who used to put socks on your feet whilst you slept so your toes wouldn’t get cold. or the man who would cook a completely seperate meal to his own if you didn’t like what he was having.

his eyes are empty. his touch is rough. callous even. sometimes you wake up in the night and he’s just sat in the corner of the room, staring at you through the darkness as you slept

your friends have stopped inviting you places out of fear that you’ll bring him along. his cagey erratic behaviour is not fun for them. the way his eyes flick around the room, landing on any potential threat. fingers flexing at his side, ready to grab his boot knife if needed

he scares you, but he still fucks you so good and makes sure you’re fed and warm

bats-in-the-attic

You're the one who taught Simon how to be soft in the first place, and once in a while you see that version of him creep through the wall that was built by whatever trauma he survived while he was missing. You never say anything when it happens, you know he's on a hair trigger these days. The times he doesn't realize he's being soft are great. Words can't explain how much you missed the little things, like the way his thumb would mindlessly trace shapes on the side of your knee while you were sat on the couch with your legs across his lap. Never in a million years did you think something so small could mean so much. When he does realize, though, he reacts almost violently. Stands up so abruptly you almost go toppling off the couch. He'd feel bad about that if he wasn't in full fight or flight mode. If he was the man he used to be. If the version of Simon you helped create hadn't been left in some dark hole in some foreign country.

If you're lucky he's just going to lock himself in one of the bathrooms for the rest of the night. Pacing until the the sun cracks the horizon the next morning. Sitting in the bath tub, staring at the wall as he comes down from the panic. You'll manage to get into the bathroom the next morning and find him there. Eyes bloodshot as he dissociates, seeing god knows what against that tiled wall. You'll be able to coax him out and into bed eventually. He apologizes just once, a single tear rolling down his cheek. That's all he's capable of anymore.

The nights that aren't lucky, he grabs his keys and disappears. You don't sleep these nights. You're the one left pacing until dawn. Some of these nights, you'll get a call from one of his teammates. He's on base. He's running the track, he's on the shooting range, he's running drills, something, ANYTHING, that helps him realize that he's still got the skills to keep himself safe.

Some of these nights you reach out to anyone and everyone you can think of. Nobodys seen him. Nobody knows where he ends up on these nights and you struggle with the thought that maybe he'll end up doing something he really can't come back from this time. The first few times this happened you spend the entire night panicking. Screaming, crying, throwing up, damn near ending up in the hospital because you can't bear the thought of losing him AGAIN. After a while you become somewhat numb to it. Settling for pacing the living room all night, checking out the window for his truck or his bike. Sometimes he stays gone for days at a time. You don't sleep. You don't eat. You just wait. And wait. And wait. He always comes home eventually, both of you now worse for wear. He pulls you into a crushing hug and both of you end up sleeping like the dead for several days afterward. The way he fucks you after that, it's like he's fighting his demons back into whatever cage he keeps them in inside his head. It's rough, it's messy, it's so good you forget how much you suffered while he was gone. You end up bruised and sore, but you're both put back together as well as you can be these days, and you know it'll be a while before he has an episode like that again. He never apologizes after these episodes. You know he's sorry anyway. It never gets brought up again. You go back to living life as normally as possible, which is to say, barely normal at all. He jumps at shadows, you pretend not to notice. Eventually the cycle will repeat.

prettyboysinpain

And I’d do it again

peanutsgifs

silverlullabies

Call me basic but I fucking love the trope of giving him that soft little pout, genuine hurt bleeding into your expression as he turns you down for the umpteenth time, voice trembling just right as you tell him if he won’t fuck you, you’ll go find some other man who will. There’s plenty of them out there who want a piece of this ass.

Spinning on your heel and storming toward the door, barely make it two steps before his hand lashes out, thick fingers clamping around your upper arm hard, yanking you back with a force that makes you stumble. Back slamming against the wall with a dull thud, breath punching out of your lungs as he crowds in, towering over you, bigger body caging you in, chest heaving, face dark and stormy. The polite, respectful mask he’s been clinging to finally cracking wide open.

(Biting the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling in triumph as he leans over and murmurs in a low voice trembling with barely suppressed anger to repeat what you just said.)

crescentalice

girl with ptsd voice: hey, so something really bad is gonna happen, right? you guys are picking up on that too, yeah? The other shoe is about to drop, I just know it.