PSSS
When you guys request lockscreens can you please be specific with the style you want? š bc I need to have an idea before I start editing ;-;
As you see I can do 3 styles (kinda. i suck at editing tho)
sorry for the trouble š„²
I'm ether gonna get a face tattoo
or
Carve out my left eye
I've always hated that eye
that moment when youre on the verge of a mental breakdown but you cant handle htem alone so youre just :D /s
Everyone tells you to reach out when you get to a point where the noughts of ending it get too much to handleā¦ but no one tells you how much it will hurt when you try to get help from people you love, and they turn you away because you are too much to handle.
Sometimes people donāt want to hear āyouāre not the only one going through thisā because sometimes I think about
- how selfish Iām being not thinking about other people emotions
- how saying that implies that Iām not good enough to have your attention even though I know thatās not what youāre saying but im worried and anxious and I feel ignored but I know itās not your fault and I donāt want to say it is but maybe Iām doing this wrong? Maybe other people are better at this? But if I say that youāre not helping then all of a sudden Iām the bad guy even though Iām the one who reached out to help but like I said I KNOW youāre trying to help but maybe just not like that?
I donāt know how I can stress this enough but sometimes that fucking phrase just doesnāt fucking help
my dad is sO bad at psychoanalyzing people iām dying ššā
sensory issues + fear of intimacy
A pearl, Mitski
Bathtub, The Front Bottoms
It's Only Sex, Car Seat Headrest
Wasted, Marya Hornbacher
I want you, Mitski
@summer-of-whump
Taglist: @elliei-m, @livingforthewhump
Please let me know if you would like to be added or removed from the taglist.
CW: noncon touching, implied noncon, implied torture, dubcon, mental breakdown
A pair of hands rested on her shoulders, making the girl jump, but quickly remained still. A nose and lips found their way to her neck, sniffing and making goosebumps form on her skin. The hands moved down lower, to her waist, reaching under her shirt and caressing the skin there.
She whimpered when they slipped under her bra.
Harper flinched as she heard an annoyed sigh behind her. The hands spun her around before making their way behind her back, trapping her against the strong body in front of her.
Harper couldnāt bring herself to stare at her captors disapproving gaze.
āYou know, itās quite rude when you act like this.ā
One of the hands moved from her back and grabbed her chin, forcing it upwards.
āYou should know by now I donāt tolerate ungratefulness.ā
Harper swallowed as she involuntarily stared at the brown, cruel eyes of Edward Darmine.
āExplain,ā the man commanded. āTell me why you always reject my touch.ā
The girlās voice was just above a whisper. āYouāll just hurt me if I do.ā
The hand that gripped her chin was now grabbing her arm in a tight squeeze. āTell. Me.ā
Fine, asshole. Iāll tell you the fucking truth.
āI donāt want it. Iāve never wanted it, and will never want it. If you actually think I enjoy my forced housewife role, youāre fucking sick.ā
Edward said nothing. Just stared for a moment, then gripped her arm tighter and led her down the hallway and into the basement.
Once they were down the stairs, he simply let go of her and walked back upstairs, locking the door.
Harper stood there in confusion as she was left alone in the dark basement, no chains, no boxes. She was just left standing there with no instructions.
She stood there awkwardly for a few moments, but soon grew tired after being forced into labor 10+ hours a day. She sat against the wall, eyes facing the door, awaiting for the danger to return.
He never did.
She was there for...days? Weeks? She didnāt know, there was no light. It wasnāt like her first days of her capture; she wasnāt starving. The door would open, a plate of food would be dropped on the top of the stairs, and that was it.
Dark never interacted with her. Never said anything, never beat her, never touched her.
Never touched her. Harper realized what he was planning to do the first time he dropped off the food with no interaction. He was going to leave her in solitary, touch-starve her, until she begged him to.
She wouldnāt.
She couldnāt.
But now, after sitting for god knows how long in the darkness and silence, she was craving for it. And it was killing her.
Despite the beatings, whippings, slaps and punches, he could be intimate with her. Sure, most of the time, she didnāt want it, but it didnāt hurt to have someone give you a nice massage. Give little kisses on your neck. Or giving you the ultimately pleasure with just a flick of a tong-
āNo!ā she screamed, the first sound she made since being trapped in the basement.
God, what was happening to her? Was she glorifying her rape? This is just what he wanted her to do, she could not give in.
And she wouldnāt.
But she was so scared that she could.
āPrincess,ā came a soft murmur from somewhere behind her.
Harper turned around, but of course there was nothing there. Her eyes suddenly darted to her leg, feeling phantom touches on her skin.
She subconsciously reached towards the touching, swallowing a whine when she couldnāt feel the familiar rough hands there.
Touches appeared again, this time on her shoulder. Then she felt ghost lips on her neck, with a ghost tongue trailing up it.
She reached towards each of the touches, soon growing frustrated as she kept on reaching for touches she just couldnāt get.
āJust stay still, my darling. Iāll make you feel real good.ā
āPlease,ā she whispered.
āYour skin is so softā¦ā
āPlease!ā She yelled, not even thinking about the consequences of yelling for her Master to come back- to touch her.
I donāt want this I donāt want this I will never want this
I need it.
The door opened.
Steps came down the stairs.
Harper looked up from where she was, tears in her eyes, and smiled.
āMaster.ā
āPet.ā
Harper, no!
Shut up.
āPlease,ā she said again, silently begging for her Master to touch her.
Donāt give in!
Edward simply smiled, and crouched in front of her. Then, very slowly, he caressed his hand across her cheek.
The girl whimpered.
āDo you want to go back upstairs? Back to bed?ā
No!
āYes. Please, touch me. I want to be touched, please.ā
The man smiled cruelly.
āWhatever you say, Harper.ā
If any of my witch friends and empaths could send some peace and calmness my way it would be so appreciated. My brain just had a massive invasive overload I wanted to scream and cry all in oneā¦š£ currently at work, I hate these these types of days. I was super zoned and when I returned it was like a wave of hell fire my head was going to explode. The worst was due to my job we had people waiting so they were staring me down. Causing the thoughts to be SO much louder and invasive on top of one another.
So please send some positive and relaxing energy if you can, any way you feel will help would be appreciatedš¤šš thank you lovelys
Does she like me or not? I want to be like his bc she love him...
Im not ok...I think starving will be the answer:))
Every time i see spn or destiel trending, i look to the left, into the camera like in the office or parks&recs. Like weren't you supposed to be rip?.. What happens there all the time? I thought spn ended both as a show and as the discourse by dividing fans in two categories: english speaking people (no homo) and spanish speakers (š³ļøāšāØ).
Can someone diagnose me with ASD already so everyone will get off my fucking back when I donāt respond to them in .2 seconds and telling me Iām being rude and disrespectful like fuck you im PROCESSING
mental illness lies. and so, to combat those lies, I was taught to do things that make me feel good - hobbies and experiences that I enjoy and are positive. but no one ever mentioned what can sometimes follow if im actually able to get myself to do those things... when I put forth all my effort, fight through the pain, and still feel just as terrible as I did before I went and did anything at all.
I guess I'm just struggling to see the point of doing these "positive" things if all I'm left with at the end is exhaustion and the disappointment in realizing depression has such a grip on me that things I used to love to do don't bring me joy anymore, like all I can feel is debilitatingly low or numb apathy. it's almost more defeating than if I'd just stayed in bed.
sometimes trying over and over and over again gets to be too much honestly
WeiĆt du, woran du merkst, dass du komplett am Ende bist...? Wenn du einfach aus einer Nichtigkeit heraus oder gar ohne erkennbaren Grund in TrƤnen ausbrichst...
Wenn ein einziges Wort zu viel ist, wenn eine unbedeutende Geste dich zutiefst trifft...
Es bedeutet nicht, dass du empfindlich oder Ć¼bersensibel bist, - sondern dass du zu lange zu viel ertragen hast...
