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diablada-blog1 · 6 years

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#visage // face.#I'm so gay

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diablada-blog1 · 6 years

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#visage // aes.

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diablada-blog1 · 6 years

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this wednesday august 8th wear a green scarf or smth green in solidarity to ur argentinian sisters fighting for the right to decide on our bodies !!

#8a/

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diablada-blog1 · 6 years

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Me: I'm gonna change leona's fc

Old leona's fc:

#hhfusbsv #la amo tanto #ooc // tbd.#💚💚#💪💚#8a/

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diablada-blog1 · 6 years

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Naissance des pieuvres (2007), dir. Céline Sciamma

#gdshgf #character study // about.

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diablada-blog1 · 6 years

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judgcs‌.

THE SOUND PIQUES HIS ATTENTION. his head, which had been placed within busted hands raised. eyes met the face of a GIRL — one that didn’t look old enough to be in a place like this. he was nearing intoxication so his face looked more soggy than usual, expressions sloppy. he looked more constipated than pleased. ❛ you can’t see all of me from that side. tengo un vientre GORDO. ❜ his head dipped again, calloused fingers pushing shaggy hair from his face. he looked greasy, like he’d been here for most of the night. he wasn’t counting on leaving neither.

YANQUIEST — fuck, that was good. he chuckled with little shame and brushed an open palm across his mouth. it was about time he shaved this shit off but he’d soon forget and let himself spiral further into waste. he couldn’t remember why he grew the mustache in the first place. he recalled somewhere that maybe he thought older woman liked that look — when reality it disgusted them. most of the ones that were too good for him, at least. ones who weren’t on their second divorce and could hold a job. the woman he attracted lacked enough teeth to chew a decent meal. or only saw their kids every other weekend and picked him last on the roster of men they’d sleep with. SHAME was the word he’d think of most when he stumbled into bed. this girl made him out to be a newspaper magazine and he found it endearing.

jonathan a challenging look settle on her for a moment or two before his attention snapped to the room, a hand raising to beckon someone over to get them a round of drinks. ❛ whatever y’want unless it’s top shelf. i ain’t got yankee money, alright. ❜

“You don’t really look like money.” Her voice was soft, sweet even, the R’s doing that bright little sound with her accent refusing to fully embrace the English. She had her elbows on the table, working her whole cute girl routine most people digged, and yet, it wasn’t all there, kind of eroded at the edges. You wouldn’t see it if you weren’t paying attention, but looked close enough and you could see her sharp edges, like nails on a board. Could cut you if you weren’t careful. “In case you were worried.”

Then, her attention drifted away, to the rest of the bar, maybe considering if there was anything that could be worth her time more than this yanqui. Not much there, just more old drunks, older, drunker, too drunk to even maintain a conversation. Would make easier targets but she wasn’t in the mood to carry an old sack who would most likely grab her by the tits in the process. Then pretend it was an accident. Then do it again. Nah, she wasn’t that desperate. A few drinks, some company, it would do. Until it wouldn't, then she’d find something else. Wasn’t that the way the world worked? You went after what you wanted, then, inevitably that would stop satisfying you and you jumped to the next big thing. Always trying to fill the whole in your soul, whatever that meant. She remembered a philosophy professor saying that. People trying to fill their existential black holes with material things, addictions, distractions because they couldn’t face their own mortality. Or some bullshit like that. She had to agree though, who didn’t liked to get their holes filled?

“You look like a whiskey guy. What you say about whiskey, Guy?”

#icb #judgcs #judgcs: 001

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diablada-blog1 · 6 years

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When I’d been sad, I hurt myself. Amma hurt other people. When I’d wanted attention, I’d submitted myself to boys: Do what you want; just like me. Amma’s sexual offerings seemed a form of aggression. Long skinny legs and slim wrists and high, babied voice, all aimed like a gun. Do what I want; I might like you.

Sharp Objects, Gillian Flynn

#character study // about.

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diablada-blog1 · 6 years

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