bankingcourses-blog

[varoness]

Gal pals

[cannibalistic-suggestions]

You don't understand. I am so in love with you. I need you.

I've cried until my eyes burned and my throat was raw, at the thought of you not being mine, and at the reality that you have no idea how far my infatuation goes. Not even an acknowledgement of the fact. You're just that oblivious, which rides between the lines of being sweetly endearing and frustratingly maddening.

I know society wouldn't approve of it. I know the others would be horrified if they knew, if they found any evidence that pointed to what happened. They'd worry for you. Ridiculous. Only I can worry for you. And I already know, this was the only way. This had to happen. I would've cried harder if it hadn't, I can't imagine it having ended any other way. You don't understand how much I needed it.

We HAD to be together! We were made to be! Why couldn't you notice that sooner?!

I didn't just want to be by your side like a delicate accessory. I didn't just want to spend time with you in the way lovers do on a warm summer night. My love goes deeper, so much deeper, I needed more. You wouldn't have understood.

It was fun, the weeks I had you confined to our own private paradise. Locked away for safekeeping, so you wouldn't escape. But it was torturous to myself, even: keeping myself on edge, denying myself what I truly wanted to do to you. I won't forget how lovely your scared-yet-sensual screams were, the marks I made on your skin; gentle bruises and bloody scars that, I'm sure must've hurt, but nowhere near how much my heart had been hurting for your love.

My heart was racing, my vision blurry, my tongue ached, and I could never not drool from thinking about it. I dreamed of it since Day One, as wrong as most people would presume it was. I've always known my love wasn't content at staying harmless, I knew my love would grow to be more violent. And I knew what I had to do: I had to eat you. Not just in the sexual way, the literal way. I wouldn't—couldn't—be happy until I was chewing on chunks of your soft flesh. Until I spilled your warm blood on my bare body, exciting me and stirring something within. Until I was stripping the skin, peeling it away from tendons and bones, touching your interior as gently as I had your exterior.

So I did, on one particular evening. You poor thing, you had no idea what was coming. I took my time, because it's rude to wildly gobble everything up in one sitting like a starving animal. It took several days, but I did it. I ate every last trace of you left, cutting up your body carefully. Measuring the serving sizes of your corpse, though I did treat myself to a bit more than usual on some days—I just couldn't help myself. The taste, the flavor...

Now there's people wondering where you've gone. It's unusual, it's unlike you, they say. I can only smile innocently and say I know nothing when they ask. They're the ones who don't need to know anything. Why does it matter to them? You're fully mine now, I've made sure of it. You'll never be anyone else's. Ever.

I still sigh happily when I think of it. You have no idea how happy this has made me. You wouldn't have understood. ♥

[pride-moth]

People analyze the complicated sociopolitical factors of why bi women mostly end up with men when my simple truth is that a man can look at me once and I'm like, "Oh, shit, he wants to fuck me" and if he's brave enough to make the first move, I'm suddenly in a relationship with him.

But a woman can look me dead in the eye and say, "You're hot. I want to have sex with you." and I'll puzzle over whether or not she's interested in me for several months and nobody ever makes the first move because there's 10 layers of plausible platonic deniability that nobody wants to work through.

[araneapeixes]

how about that hot girl summer

(pose credit to this awesome piece!!)

[hellothisisangle]

congratulations on your penis

[capricornlevi]

"i don't do dress-up," toji huffs, not even wanting to dignify your request with an eye roll.

you, on the other hand, have no problem turning your eyes up, sighing partially from frustration, partially out of fondness.

"it's a costume party, toji. it's the one and only requirement. and you promised you'd make an effort with my friends!"

"effort means helping 'em move or something. not ... fuckin'... putting on cat ears or some shit like that."

"the cat ears are for me, actually," you sigh again, starting to shove the contents of your shopping haul back into the paper bag.

you'd picked up a few cheap and simple ideas for toji, laying them out on your bed for him to pick.

a simple black eye mask (for a bandit, masquerade, whatever). some sunglasses and overalls (top gun pilot). even some flimsy little plastic vampire fangs that he could wear with his regular clothes --

anything. anything to show he's making an attempt at participating.

but in the midst of all your enthusiasm, you'd accidentally tossed your recently purchased pair of fluffy cat ears on the bed. before you can grab them to put them away, toji hooks them with his finger, holding them up for closer inspection.

"what are you gonna wear with these?" he asks, voice calm and low, skillfully hiding the thoughts suddenly filling his head.

you pause, setting the bag back down. "for my costume?"

he nods, still holding the cat ears, but his full attention is now on you.

realising the opportunity, you grin.

"probably this," you say nonchalantly, fishing the lacy miniskirt out of the bag and setting it down on the covers.

clearly exercising a great degree of self-control, toji's expression doesn't change, but he can't hide the look in his eyes as his gaze travels over the fabric.

pupils blown, he darts his eyes back to you, following you as you take a seat on the bed next to the skirt.

he swallows thickly, setting down the cat ears and running a hand through his tousled hair, a sign you've seen a hundred times before.

the room is silent, overwhelmingly so, until he finally breaks it --

"can you try it on for me?"

"suddenly interested in costumes, are we?" you retort as your smile returns, delighted to see his facade cracking before you.

just as he gives in, leaning over and manoeuvring you exactly how he wants to, you hear him whisper roughly;

"maybe i can get behind dress-up."

[mlady-magnolia]

Himeko is a liar

Part 2

[oscconfessions]

suitcase is the type of quiet girl who’s secretly into some freaky shit

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