Quotes That Help Me Survive:

quotes that help me survive:

“You are not lost. You are here. Stop abandoning yourself. Stop repeating this myth about love and success that will land in your lap or evade you forever. Build a humble, flawed life from the rubble, and cherish that. There is nothing more glorious on the face of the earth than someone who refuses to give up, who refuses to give in to their most self-hating, discouraged, disillusioned self, and instead learns, slowly and painfully, how to relish the feeling of building a hut in middle of the suffocating dust.” — Heather Havrilesky, Ask Polly

this tumblr text post:

“To live in this world you must be able to do three things: to love what is mortal; to hold it against your bones knowing your own life depends on it; and, when the time comes to let it go, to let it go.” — Mary Oliver

From an interview with Kazu Makino:

Instructions On Not Giving Up, Ada Limon:

And this poster by Yumi Sakugawa

“You have to believe, in your heart, that even if you don’t work hard and exercise and think positive thoughts and make new friends and march triumphantly into the future, you are still enough. You will always have bad days. Being broken doesn’t make you a loser. You can crumble, and you will still be enough. Make that your religion moving forward. You are here to feel this moment. You are not here to become someone better. You are not here to impress or compete. You are not here to prove yourself. You are here to savor this life. Let down your guard. You are already enough. Believe it.” — Heather Havrilesky

“The first feminist gesture is to say: “Ok. They’re looking at me. But I’m looking at them.” The act of deciding to look, of deciding that the world is not defined by how people see me, but by how I see them.” -Agnès Varda

lyrics from the song Grow by The Oh Hellos:

“The world’s otherness is antidote to confusion, that standing within this otherness—the beauty and the mystery of the world, out in the fields or deep inside books—can re-dignify the worst-stung heart.” — Mary Oliver

“I hope you will go out and let stories, that is life, happen to you,and that you will work with these stories from your life--not someone else's life--water them with your blood and tears and your laughter till they bloom, till you yourself burst into bloom. That is the work. The only work.” — Clarissa Pinkola Estes

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kinktober : oct 11th

simon riley x housewife kink

simons never really had anyone that was so willing to please him and serve him on their own free will, so of course it’s going to turn him on to no end.

it was the way you looked in the kitchen on a lazy sunday, his tshirt hanging off your shoulder, not aware of his hulking presence standing in the doorway watching you stir the gravy you’d made for the sunday roast you were making (which really makes him feel at home, god) he never thought about having anything this domestic, but you make that life look so good.

it was the way you can just sense when he’s had a bad day, greeting him in the living room when he drops down on the couch, huge body sprawled out, and you crawl between his legs and get to work, gagging on his thick length until the sour memory of his day is replaced by the feeling of your sweet mouth around him.

it was the way you look at him whenever he whips out cash to pay for whatever you want — those sweet adoring doe eyes. he made alot from the military, it’s true — but simon was never a big spender, and didn’t like to treat himself unless he really had to — so as you can imagine, the man let’s you go wild with his credit card. “whatever you want. s’not like i’m gonna spend it.” he gruffs, nonchalantly sliding his card into your hand when you’re rambling about an outfit you’d had your eye on.

he doesn’t want to rush into things, simons scared — and the thought of scaring you off with a proposal is constantly weighing on his mind, his true feelings towards the matter only coming out when he had you bedded, your sweet self having offered yourself to him after he’d had a long day. he’s got your legs over his strong shoulders, the base of his cock creamy from releases as you wail, his thick veiny hand pressing down on your lower stomach. this is where simon really gets vulnerable, a rare but delightful occurrence.

his vulnerability comes in filthy promises. “th’s it doll, taking me like a fuckin’ pro. could do this for the rest of my life. you want that, yeah? want me to stick a big shiny rock on that pretty little finger? make you my little wife? what would people think hm? sweet little thing like you lugging round a big old man like me. gonna know my pretty wife gets f’king destroyed every night. you want that don’t you, pet?” you can barely work out what he’s saying because he rambles it all into one breath, grunting into your shoulder as his balls slap against you, pushing you towards one final orgasm and himself toward his first release. you could barely think straight, but you knew a conversation was due after he’d finished emptying his balls into you.

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