#exorcising demons

[thatfandomgirlsworld]

Just women sending demons back to hell🥰

[lyssrambles]

Please don't remember me fondly

Remember me as the one who held your heart so softly, the one who loved you without restraint even when your love for me was a tangled mess which took years to unravel

Remember my patience and devotion as I sat at your feet, then how you crushed them under your heel

Remember me with pangs of guilt and regret when you think on your habit of assuring me I was safe with you then abandoning me once again

Don't remember me fondly, remember you killed me

[retrojezter]

Hey. If you take demon Mercy or demon Satya, or any demon skin. And ship them with Zarya. It’d be. Exercising Demons.

[hotangrybruises]

sb.i

His bedroom was his refuge. It wasn’t unassailable. Far from it; his room could be breached at any time at any whim of his father’s, but it was the best place to lay low, the one place for solitude (apart from the dark, dank, spider webby crawl space, which was dominated by his father’s nostalgia), the one place he could nestle the headphones on his ears, turn on the blue lamp, and escape from the shit that was his life.

He loved K--- with the artistic part of his heart, but he’d found out a week before that she thought he was “a fag.” He had no idea what to do with that. He loved D--- with the lustful part of his heart, but that confused him about K---’s reaction to his sexuality because, well, maybe she was right, but he loved both of them, so how could he be “a fag?” He loved a girl and a boy? But did it matter? He wanted to spend time with K---, to make her part of his life, to make love to her (of course), but to spend time with her, to listen to her, to tell her what he thought, to write for her, and all he wanted to do with D--- was play RPGs and suck his giant cock. He’d seen that cock in the shower at the pool and couldn’t understand why everyone in that shower room hadn’t wanted to drop to his knees and suck that thing. It was beautiful. It was huge. It would scrape the back of his throat. Couldn’t he love them both? Or at least desire them both?

Where he was, who he was, was confusing, and it wasn’t fair. It was too fucking complicated, and his father must be suspecting who he was because the anti-“fag” rhetoric had been crazy lately -- all islands and AIDs and nuclear holocaust. So he’d been closed in his room for three weeks when he wasn’t at school or practice or playing D&D. He’d been listening to the Police and Duran Duran, and he’d been wondering how to escape while moths slipped through the crack on his screen and flitted around his ceiling bulb.

Could he call K---? Should he tell D---?

He pushed his glasses onto his forehead, draped his forearm over his eyes, and just wished his Dad was dead. That’s when the whispers began.

[bettyfrancis]

my “celeb” crush mood board that u all asked for

[lyssrambles]

Some Days

Some days I love myself.  Overjoyed to help others feel useful A treasure whose bliss is creating bliss Worthy. Loveable. Hopeful.

Other days I hate myself. Overwhelmed with feeling useless A burden and toxic to everything I touch Unworthy. Unloveable. Hopeless.

Some days I wonder if I will ever get back to some days.

[lyssrambles]

Dolly

I am your dolly You pull me down from my shelf    when you've nothing better to do To manipulate and pose me To play pretend Until another toy    catches your eye Then back I go Lifeless and empty    on my shelf

[lyssrambles]

Collected

You collect hearts    the way others collect shells Shiny hearts full of love    you are too scared to return Holding them to your ear    to admire the way they admire you Then back on display    until your ego needs another stroke There my heart sits in your display case,    dripping love and devotion Among the other trophies,    stolen by the heart collector