ʜᴀʙiᴛs ᴏғ ᴍʏ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ.

— * † | you think i can’t tame that? i always come home. always. ravenous. loaded. you know better than anybody: i’m bigger than god.

[revelrys]

noctuatim:

The kitchen was aglow in morning light.“Yes,” he answered finally. “That’s how it works.” 

Sunshine bled though the blinds and spilled across the table, its warmth pooling over their distant hands and brightening Fhaari’s glistening eyes. It still felt cold. Stiles shrugged. “I don’t know what else to do, Fhaari.“ His gaze remained on the dog-eared pamphlet. “You’re not giving me any options. You won’t stop for me. You won’t even stop for your-fucking-self,” he mumbled. Defeat clogged his throat. “I almost lost you.”

Stiles rounded the ring on his left hand, wearing down the inner inscription against the base of his finger. “At least this way, I know you’ll be looked after. You’ll have a real chance to get clean. No distractions.” No temptations. Stiles looked at his husband. “I knew.” The words echoed in his chest like a brand new heartbeat. “I knew, for the longest fucking time. I knew you were using again.” He shook his head with a scoff of sadness. “I’m supposed to take care of you.” 

“I wish you had,” he spat. “I wish I’d fucking died in that club if it meant I wouldn’t come home to this.” Betrayal rocked his body in waves. Whatever was broken in him wouldn’t be fixed by yet another facility. It wouldn’t be mended by the careful hands of medical staff. There weren’t any pills or sugarcoated scripts that would reach him. Whatever was so wrong about him had enmeshed itself to him so intricately to his being that Fhaari didn’t know how to separate it from himself. He didn’t know if he could. His chest rose and fell with stunted breaths, eyes as defiant as they were transparent to what brewed underneath.

Where did the trauma end, and where did Fhaari begin? 

[revelrys]

runrubyred:

“That’s fine, Bel, but–” Jesse faltered on his words. Soundless agitation. Jesse was used to conversation about life and love between thick inhales of marijuana and Mario Kart on pause. He was used to overlapping advice from his two best friends, reminiscing over shared experiences in group chats and being goaded into spilling his guts when he had too much to drink. Doing things alone was very foreign to him, even as an only child. “Baby, I get that you don’t want me to solve everything for you, but you can still talk to me about your problems.” 

Bel fell silent as he pondered the right words to say. He felt as though he’d been backed into a corner by none other than himself and his own pride. The inability to share himself in the way Jesse wanted was of his own doing. Bel knew that Jesse would never intentionally patronize him, but the class difference would always exist between them, and with that came Bel’s own fostered shame. “I know that I can, and I do. I just can’t tell you about this one.” For a moment, he considered turning over. Maybe it wouldn’t have made a difference, given the circumstances. “I just want to not think about it. I haven’t even told Rico.”

[revelrys]

* ( incoming txt msg.

FELIX: I'm not sure what you want to call it! We're still friends, aren't we?

FELIX: Can't relate.

TAJ: Just forget I said anything 🙃

[runrubyred]

“I don’t have to fucking tell you anything.” [from bel]

HALSEY; STARTER SENTENCES

Marcos nodded demurely. “Yeah, of course.” His agreement was frail, too-polite. “You’re right,” he breathed. “You don’t have to tell me anything.” Marcos twisted the frayed edges of the bracelets on his wrist, still wet from the pool. “I guess I thought that since it’s been so long–and with everything that’s happened–that maybe you’d talk to me about it.” Marcos ran a hand through his hair. “But I get it. Some things are better left unsaid, right?” He smiled sadly. He’d never know why they stopped being friends. 

[blamrps]

[revelrys]

actually, i have to say something about it because if i don’t i know i’ll sit in my bed steaming over it rather than sleeping. 

disliking someone doesn’t erase their identity. 

a poc isn’t suddenly white just because you don’t like them. 

you cannot erase someone’s hardships or successes just because you don’t like them. 

mixed people are not white just because you don’t like them. 

your ideology is flawed if you believe or practice any of the above.

bonus: you can dislike someone for trivial reasons. 

is zayn half-white? yes. does that suddenly make him white? no. does that make him white-passing? no. does this whiteness aid him when he’s being discriminated against? no. you can dislike him for your own reasons and not twist reality or simultaneously emulate the behaviors you’re supposedly opposed to over it. 

[beachdeath]

https://thenewinquiry.com/hot-allostatic-load/

[revelrys]

2018 and folks are still being hypocritical and contradicting themselves in the same breath. okay.

[revelrys]

so, because i can never -- ever -- let anything go, i’ve been thinking a lot about the indie rp community’s long-lasting obsession with ped*ph*lia and kinks. specifically, Dd//lg.

a lot of the time when you confront the people who write this [ ‘this’ meaning Dd//lg, infantilization ] and tell them they’re writing gussied up pedo///philia, they’ll start spewing their string of recycled excuses. 

their most famous one is that Dd////lg couldn’t possibly be that, because it’s between two consenting adults and has no mention of children [ despite the numerous allusions to childhood, innocence, and incest ]. not only that, but that their sole definition for pedophilia is simply “the sexual attraction to children”, point blank; thus ‘proving’ the given claim false. 

but .. i think that lacks nuance. more importantly, it’s dismissive of the numerous lives which that philosophy and argument directly affects. their refusal to even consider the opposing argument is dangerous and, frankly, depicts a misunderstanding of ped*ph*lia at large. i’ve been doing a lot of reading on both sides, but i really like the way this post explains the paraphilia. [ easy to read language, includes source ]. my favorite passage from it states, 

Pedophiles are not attracted to individuals, they are fetishizing and aroused by their projected ideas surrounding innocence, control, power, possession, corruption of innocence, vulnerability, etc. Pedophilia is inherently abusive (yes even for “non offenders”) because abuse stems from abusive values and entitlements.

which i think is exactly what a majority of the apologists on here fail to understand, despite the fact that they’ve been writing each and every theme the aforementioned post states. though, if we’re being honest, you could already tell that from the way writers on here will often combine both D///s and Dd///lg, and think there is no difference between the two. furthermore, given their resistance to opposing views, i don’t think they care. they just want to keep living vicariously through skinny white people; csa victims + culture be damned. 

even if you read this and end up steaming bc you thought i was just gonna post a meme + kept hate-reading after, i still think that post does a really good job at debunking a lot of publicly-accepted apologism. 

anyway. i still don’t have the proper words to express how i feel about it. i just felt compelled to share that post, but didn’t want to reblog it. /sigh.

[revelrys]

is it okay if i respond to more than one of your starters?

absolutely! thank you so much for your interest!

[revelrys]

* ( incoming txt msg.

SAM: can we not do this again

SAM: you're making it sound like i don't care about our son

FHAARI: i don't know what you're talking about.

FHAARI: and yet you still won't do what i ask.

[revelrys]

hey, folks. i would really appreciate some more replies to these specific starters of mine.

first — an angsty txt starter in case you’re not up for long paras. 

second — older!fhaari swipes a bit of pocket change to feed his relapsed habit.

third — some good ole “i’m your best friend and best man @ your wedding but i’ve been in love with you the entire time”.

fourth — noir-inspired, failing marriage goodness. [vine vc] just a couple of dudes coming to terms with the fact that their love ain’t what it used to be.

fifth — fhaari has some questions after snooping through someone’s phone.

sixth — txt thread. two husbands trying [ poorly ] to make it work for the sake of their school-aged kid.

[phoxnix]

“She was the only woman I’ve ever loved … and I got her killed.” Callum said to the other, icy blue eyes staring off hauntedly, irses like windows that looked through into nothingness. “So, no-” he said after a few seconds that seemed like hours, “I don’t love you. I can’t, and could never love you. I lost the ability to do that a long time ago.”

[revelrys]

Yasmine recognized it as a sincere moment between the two, and kept her comments to herself out of respect for his fallen. She’d never dealt with the dead before; not truly. Never had to carry that specific burden. Her gaze fell to her lap, watching as her own brand of inadequacy puddled in her palms. “I’ve never had anything.. happen like that to me. I don’t know how it feels, so I can’t tell you if you’re wrong or you’re right.” Clearing her throat, Yas chanced a mouse-like glance in his direction. If she was going to be serious at any moment in her life, it might as well be this one. “I can only say that doesn’t change how I feel. You’re still my friend and I care about you. No ifs, ands, or buts. So, it’s.. okay. It is.” 

[revelrys]

me waiting for a fellow angst demon to eventually stumble upon my starters or point me in the direction of theirs 

[revelrys]

“I’ve killed for you.” Fhaari let his words fall to the ground with a thud; hollow and dissonant. There was no more fire to be spat, no more knives for which to reach for. He stood as their sorry consort; a bird with no more songs to sing. “Do you understand that?” A whisper-soft plead; much like the rest which had tumbled from his lips as of late. It was always an apology, a promise, a beg. If it wasn’t one thing, it was the other. His eyes tempted a glance earthward--wanting to check for a familiar ring on their hand--but felt himself stuck in time. Even if it did sting, there were no more flames for the rancor to feed. Time had leeched their garden dry and turned the temple of their worship into an animosity. What little love remained was slipping through their fingers like ash. There were no hymns to serenade him with, no visions to hold dear. Just a promise to shut up and sleep on the couch, and a mumbled goodnight for none to hear. “Is there anyone on this planet that would do that for you? Has anyone ever loved you that much? In this life or the last?”

open to: m. fiancé or husband. rocky relationship. setting: fire escape. 02:20 am. muse: fhaari. can be older or main verse.

[revelrys]

* ( incoming txt msg.

FHAARI: Oh, boo-fucking-hoo.

FHAARI: Your side piece can wait until after you drop your kid off at a damn sleepover, I assure you.

[revelrys]

fhaari a. sabzwari —

it’s hard, isn’t it? living with a shattered heart. you breathe in and hope the shards don’t pierce your lungs. but, eventually, they will. there is no escape from it. you will bleed. you will gasp. and you will scar. but what matters in the end, darling, is that you will survive.

open starters found 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄.