tears-are-running-down-my-face

anonymous asked:

22! A fight with angry/aggressive Grayson would be fun to read. I've been looking everywhere for one

“What do you mean by leaving?” Grayson emphasized the last word with disgust, cheeks turning red as he stared at you.

You glared back at him, stuffing your clothes into a beat down suitcase.

“You’re an asshole, Grayson.” You spat and he laughed out humorlessly. “I tell you I’m going to New York for a business meeting and you flip out on me!”

Grayson clenched his hands into fists before letting them slacken, running his hands over his face in frustration.

“You’re going there with a dude, who you know I can’t stand!” He yelled and you refrained from recoiling at the tone of his voice.

“He’s my boss, Gray!” You screamed, frustrated tears welling up. “I can’t say no to him.”

“Of course you can’t.” He huffed angrily, causing you to stop shoving clothes into your bag.

“That’s a low blow.” You said and he met your eyes. “You’re acting as if I would ever cheat on you. I’m not even staying in the same room as him! His room is two floors up, what the hell is wrong with you!”

Grayson raised his hand and you watched with wide eyes as he reached over to sweep a lamp from the nightstand, jerking away when it crashed to the floor. He looked livid as he stalked toward you, and before you could back away from him he had pulled you close to him and backed you into a wall.

“Get off of me, you asshole!” You shrieked, but you made no attempt to push him away.

He leaned forward and gave you a blistering kiss, making you yearn for more. His hand slipped to either side of your waist, squeezing you gently. 

“Don’t you ever think that I don’t trust you. It’s him that I don’t trust.” He hissed as he pulled away and you looked up at him, stepping up on your tip-toes to kiss him in response. “I fucking love you, Y/N.”

i’m sitting at the dinner table with my grandchildren, quieter than usual. i look out at the sunset and see the trees swaying in the breeze of the evening. “grandma, are you okay?” my youngest grandchild asks. i don’t look at them, still staring out of the window. a stray tear runs down my face as i speak. “glenn rhee did not deserve to die.”

  • Psychic: *reads my mind*
  • My mind: Can you hear, my heart beat? Tired of feeling, never enough. I close my eyes and tell myself that my dreams will come tr-
  • Psychic: *tears running down face* and there'll be no more darkness when you believe in yourself you are unstoppable
2

On University of Washington campus, tucked away in Silven Grove, an area reserved only for students and never shown to tours or even prospective students, there’s a a relief of the Marque de Lafayette. There’s one thing this historical figure is known for: his unwavering, passionate love for America and everything it stands for and what he hoped France could be as well. I visited the Grove today (Nov 9th, 2016) to look at Lafayette and wonder what he would think of America today, and my answer was pretty clear. In the light Seattle rain the relief appeared to have tear tracks running down his bronze face. But Lafayette also fought, and fought hard, again and again, through bullet wounds and not one but two revolutions, he fought for freedom and liberty and rights. And so should we.

youtube

ARE THESE TEARS OF JOY RUNNING DOWN MY FACE????

I’m sitting here staring at you
Feeling like I’m looking at a stranger
Were you not the guy that told me that I was the one?
Were you not the guy that I laughed uncontrollably with and had tears running down my face?
You were the person
I could tell anything to
You made me feel strong
You supported me through anything
But now looking back at me
Are empty eyes
A thin straight line has taken the place of your beautiful smile
How can someone you loved that much one minute
Be a cold and distant person the next
Like all those moments didn’t matter
And simply vanished
—  Chapters from my life
Devils from the Lake || Jughead J.

18. “Hey calm down, they can’t hurt you anymore.”

Requested by anon.

Song: Foreign Tongues (Acoustic Version) - Dirtcaps, Eleni Drake

Y/N

I couldn’t see anything and my hands were tied.

I couldn’t see anything and I could barely think straight.

I couldn’t see anything and was about to be killed.

My captor was arguing with Jason Blossom, I wanted to cry. Tears were actually running down my face, but I mean the ugly, loud, screaming type of cry, that was the cry I wanted. But my mouth was frozen shut, I was paralyzed.

I couldn’t focus on what was being said between the two, not even if I tried. Panic invaded my body, all the way from my finger tips down to my toes. I was numb.

“Run!” I heard Jason yell at me, pushing me up and towards safety. “Go.” He words finally registered and my legs took off. I yanked the blind fold away from my eyes so I could see after I tripped over a branch.

I ran, ran, and ran.

And then I heard a gunshot, echo throughout the forest.

Jason.

I wanted to turn around, but his words ran through my head, and I continued running.

My head snapped up from my desk as the bell rang, signaling the end of class. I gathered my papers together, shoving them in a book and the book shoved in my bag, traces of panic still in my finger tips.

I walk out of U.S. History, my body numb, and my legs feeling as if they’d give out from underneath me, but I kept walking. I kept walking trying to shake the feeling, live through the pain. Holding my head up high with Jason’s final words echoing throughout my head, reaching every dark, empty corner, and echoing back. Live through the pain.

I live through the pain, because Jason’s not here. He gave up his chance of surviving to get me out of there. Reasons I don’t even know why, I never talked to Jason that much. Hold your head up, live through the pain.

It was hard to do that. The town thought I killed Jason, Cheryl wanted my head, people whispered in my wake.

The panic returned to my finger tips, spreading through my hands and up my arms, slowly taking control of my body. My breaths started to get uneven, it was hard to breathe.

“Freak.”

“You should be dead, not Jason.”

“You’ll be locked up soon.”

“I’m sure she was just jealous of Jason and Polly, that why she killed him.” I caught figments of conversations, the gunshot echoing through my head, along with Jason’s words drove me over the edge.

I started pushing through people, though it didn’t seem to do much, I couldn’t feel my hands, anything. I felt weak and helpless, just like I did on July fourth. I finally broke through the crowd and ran.

I didn’t know where, the tears blurred my vision. I just kept running like I did that afternoon.

“Are you okay?” I heard the voice ask, before I felt the owner holding onto my arms, I’d run into them.

I looked up, finding Jughead Jones standing in front of me.

“I need to get out of here.” I said, the words leaving my mouth before I could stop them. He pulled me out of the hallway into an empty room.

“No, I need to get out of this school,  I’m not safe here.” The panic kicked full in, and I felt like my captor and Jason’s murder was right around the corner. I was full on in hysteria. “They’re going to get me.”

“Hey calm down, they can’t hurt you anymore.” He said, pulling me into his chest.

I finally let out that cry.

My heads were balled up in his shirt, my head buried deep in his chest as I cried. He didn’t say anything but held me and I was greatful for that.

Once my breathing evened out and my sobs stopped, we just stood there, holding onto each other, then I finally spoke.

“Thank you.” I said, still latched onto him.

“Its nothing,” I pulled away from him, looking into his eyes. “Are you better now?”

“Yeah,” I looked down at my feet, holding onto my arm with the opposing hand.

“Hey, what do you say to skipping the rest of the school day, and going to Pop’s? A hamburger and a milkshake from there is always the best cure, in my opinion.” Jughead suggested, I looked up at him again, cracking a smile, laughing a little.

“Yeah, that would be nice.” I agreed.

“Well, lead the way.” He said, extending his arm out to the door, I laughed.

And for the first time since July 4th, I got a sense of normalcy back, and things were good for that moment.


Masterlist || Prompt List

I hate arguments with anyone because I always feel like people speak all over me if I don’t raise my voice. Even when I do, it’s like they go mute when it’s me talking. When I try to speak up and I don’t feel I’m getting my point across, or I’m not being understood, I cry. Not the kind of crying that makes your chin tremble and your shoulders rise and fall, but just continuous tears running down my face when I’m trying to get someone to see my point of view. When my parents are involved they tell me I’m not acting like an adult because I’m crying, but I swear I can’t control it. I don’t cry because I’m sad, or I feel sorry for myself, and that’s what they think. If I raise my voice they say I’m acting like a child. If I cry when they argue with me, I’m acting like a child. Then they call me selfish and say I can’t get over myself. It’s the most frustrating feeling in the world when my family thinks all I think about is myself. If only they knew what went on in my INFP mind. They tell me to be myself, but when I am I get reprimanded for it. It’s very lonely.
—  Submitted by losstinourthoughtss

on the left is a victoria secret model, and on the right is me. there was a time, i would have put these pictures side by side, and used it as a “goal” to get to. i actually went into a victoria secret shop once, about a year ago, with my friend, and whilst she was trying something on in the changing room, and i was waiting, i was trying to hold back the tears, they just started running down my face, and i was desperately wiping them away before anyone saw. it was all too much in there, all them what i deemed as “perfect” girls plastered all over the walls, and my mind was racing with “why don’t i look like them” “why can’t i achieve that” “i’ll never be like them” and looking back, i feel so saddened that i ever felt like that. (my friend didn’t know, so it obviously wasn’t her fault that it happened, she was just shopping in there, bless her❤️) but now, today, i don’t envy those girls, NOT ONE LITTLE BIT. i’ve read up about their diets, and some days they have detoxing where they literally eat just vegetables, and like hours before the show they aren’t allowed liquid, like hello?? we need to drink?? it’s just crazy. it’s their choice and i completely understand that, but i’m just saying that there was a time i would have admired how strict they are with themselves, but today is so different. i want to enjoy food, i’ve rid my life of diets, i’ve found self love, and i want to eat cake and ice cream, when i want cake and ice cream, like chocolate?? who doesn’t love chocolate?? i just don’t envy their bodies or their lifestyles anymore, and that’s just a GLO UP for me. YOU DONT NEED TO LOOK LIKE THOSE GIRLS. YOU NEED TO LOOK LIKE YOU. YOU YOU YOU. whatever body shape, or size you are, that’s perfect, and that’s what makes you YOU.

not a Calvin Klein ad lol 😝😝😝

(hope this isn’t triggering💗)