“The one you love and the one who loves you are never, ever the same person.”
— Chuck Palahniuk, Invisible Monsters (via the-book-diaries)

oozey mess
noise dept.
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
NASA
trying on a metaphor

if i look back, i am lost

Kiana Khansmith
Not today Justin
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Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
KIROKAZE
Show & Tell
Misplaced Lens Cap
sheepfilms
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Mike Driver
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

Andulka
🪼
wallacepolsom
seen from United States
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seen from United States
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seen from Malaysia

seen from United States
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seen from Switzerland
@salvationseekers
“The one you love and the one who loves you are never, ever the same person.”
— Chuck Palahniuk, Invisible Monsters (via the-book-diaries)
It's been a while..
I would never thought I'd miss this.
Where I can pen up my deepest desires. Altho now it is restricted..
I ve been trying detach... Yet it is the hardest thing to do
I keep having this craving. A hunger that I can't to satisfy. It's not some little thing in the back of my mind. It's a physical craving for something intangible. I realized tonight what is it. I realized what will satisfy my hunger.
It's you.
... it’s a need, an aching desire that only one person can fulfil.
amen to this ~
♥︎
Make Them Count
Strike One was a reminder of your impact, the satisfying collision of the belt hitting my unspoiled skin mimicking the way you crash into my heart.
Strike Two was a reminder of your stability, the way you landed another blow on the exact same spot, because you knew one wasn’t enough to cause equilibrium.
Strikes Three through Six were a reminder of your patience, building intensity slowly, methodically, meticulously, turning tears into sobs into body shaking with need for more… rougher… deeper…. violent.
Strike Seven was a reminder of your generosity, giving me exactly what I needed in a violent triple tap, making me scream from the agony of jerking my emotions from me.
Strike Eight was a reminder of your love, a light tap followed by your voice helping guide me through a deep breath, preparing me for the final two, for the culmination of your devotion to my needs.
Strike Nine was a reminder of your sadism, both of us groaning in pleasure as you hit me harder than you ever have before, reaching into my pain, yanking it out of me with a moan, and releasing it into the universe.
Strike Ten was a reminder of your ownership, your hand providing the last blow, skin to skin, your possession massaging my marks, my bruises, my soul, demanding me to let you in, punctuating my release with a quick, dirty, violent fucking release of your own.
Strikes are a reminder of our connection, of knowing you make them count, because I can always count on you.
But he's hot as f$&k here.
Omg.. This is so cute.
Which is your set of rules?
Formally? None. Rules and protocols don’t work for us because they feel inauthentic and too much like role play. I’m respectful in front of the kids (and usually when they’re not around, but particularly when they are) and when he asks or tells me to do something, I do it.
This.
Waiting
“I became good at pretending. I became so good that after a while the lines blurred between my truth and fiction. And sometimes, when I did a really good job of pretending, I even fooled myself.”
— Ruta Sepetys, Salt to the Sea
This is actually so sad. And yet sometimes it is the only mechanism needed to continue surviving and go thru life.
Have faith in those
i certainly hope you are not, because i don't want ordinary man.
“That’s what really scares me. Falling in love is easy. Having sex is easier. But bumping into someone that can spark your soul - that shit is rare. You could fuck four, five, all the people in a god damned room and you’d only feel a connection with one. Or none at all. And what sucks is despite the undeniable real magnetic pull between the two of you, more often than not, you don’t end up together.
I’m afraid I won’t meet anyone else I can connect with.
I’m scared it’ll be just you.”
—Connection, Sade Andria Zabala
artwork by Polina Washington