Small World, Huh, Captain? 'm Sure You Could Connect The Dots. Use That Pretty Head Of Yers.

am i a recurring thought to anyone

it’s my account and i can do what i want with it. TW.

the taste of copper in my own mouth is overwhelming.

what i wouldn’t give to live normally. live without the consistent craving of the intimacy and abuse cocktail.

i want to be hurt just as i want to be loved.

the difference is, i deserve to be hurt.

and it pains me, knowing that i could just as easily be thrown away. i’m nothing special. i know that. we can pretend that i am all we want, but i know.

i know that, if i were being auctioned off, no one would try. “next up, it’s captain grant curly! starting of at a hundred, anyone?….anyone?….”

i know. i know i’m damaged beyond repair, i know i’m worthless. everything is so heavy right now, and that’s quite alright. i was made to carry burdens. the weight of holding everyone’s secrets weigh me down, and as i fall behind, the growing ache in my chest throbs.

what i wouldn’t give to lay my head down in your lap, let your fingers run through my hair, and let the world go quiet. even then, i wouldn’t be worth a penny. but maybe, just maybe, i would bring you the barest hint of happiness.

i need to clean my room. i need to pack my bag. i need to do my laundry. i’ve been living here for almost two werks, and i barely packed enough clothes to last me three days.

what i really need to do is shut up. because no one gives a damn. i keep telling myself, “get it together, grant.” and then i continue messing things up. i need to be guided.

i need to eat. i can’t remember the last time i ate.

don't fucking say i'm the one imagining things when you're more over your head than i am. now; think you can be a good boy and tell what's going on in that head?

– ✘

good lord, you’ve sure got a mouth on you, jim.

i don’t feel like publically exposing myself, telling the world exactly what’s wrong. you’re welcome to dm me, but that’s about as far as i’ll go.

regardless, you’re being silly, jim. i’m perfectly fine!

in what universe are we "equal?" are you striving to be oblivious? i'm not terrified of shit.

yeah, right as always . you're warmer than i remember.

– ✘

in every universe, of course! i’m as equal with you as i am with everyone else!

oblivious? what ever do you mean?

nsfw, poll and slutposting under the cut.

i wonder what color they’d like…

i have dark red, light red, baby pink, black…

baby pink and black are practically just scraps of lace, they don’t cover much..

dark red has a little opening in the front, like a tit window, almost but for…yeah.

and the light red has this little heart chain that goes across the back..

i have this pretty black top, too! i just wonder what color they’d like… won’t you help me choose?

Hi again captain! how’s your day been? I thought about saying something sooner but i figured you’d want a little time between me and your other anons. I’ve been thinking about you just about all night and this morning, can’t seem to get you outta my head :3

-🌀

hello, anon.

it’s been quite busy. i’m working on redoing this account, fixing up my spotify, etc etc. lots of digital organization.

i don’t mind the inbox spam, i almost prefer it! it’s nice to talk to people.

all night and this morning? that’s impressive, anon. i must be taking up a lot of space in your mind, hm?

call me your pretty boy.

your angel, your darling, your slut.

i don’t care, as long as i’m yours.

i am never going to be good enough.

you’re going to leave like everyone else.

whether it be because you got bored, or because i upset you, or because you realize i’m just not worth it,

you’re going to leave.

and i’m not ready for you to go just yet…

good god, how terrible of a person must i be?

how twisted, how sick, how depraved and pathetic must i be to be chasing, begging, dare i say even lusting after someone who’s entire line of communication, who’s entire relationship, stems from something specifically platonic.

he’s right. as unfortunate as it may be, he’s right. i’m nothing, nothing if not a loyal mutt. i bite any other hand that dares feed me, save for my master. the kind of mutt who you pick off the street, so loyal that you could push it down the stairs and it would simply trot back up and sit in front of you, protective and possessive.

it’s almost amusing, this illusion of choice i had. you’ve always been a part of my life. we’ve been friends forever. it would be impossible, or near impossible, to have not taken you up on your offer.

where is the line drawn, between my source memories/relations and yours.

what i wouldn’t give for you to feel the same deep-rooted infatuation, the same fuzzy, cloudy feelings, the same soft, gentle warmth.

nsfw.

please, please touch me. i’ve been so good, i deserve it, don’t i?

i just want you to set the rhythm, the pace, the energy. i want you to be in control.

tell me what toys to use, how fast to go, how high the vibrations should be…tell me what to do.

i’m always in control. let me give up the reigns.

please ?