come sail away

Growing up, I had a friend who was groomed by a pedophile. At 15, she met him, 20, in an online chat forum. He showered her with affection and constantly told her how mature she was for her age, and she had entered into a relationship with him by 16 (he being 21 at the time)

Now, at 20, I am in a relationship with a 25 year old.

Technically, our relationships should be equivalent. But that’s not quite true.

By high school, my friend was fluent in three languages and working on her forth. She had plans to be a diplomat and to work to strengthen US/foreign relationships.

However, when she entered this relationship, her dreams slowly morphed into his dreams. She dreamed only of moving away from her family and being with him, making a family with him, making him happy. She slowly cut off everyone in her life, isolating herself from friends and family because of his jealousy.

When they first met in person, she could not yet drive, so she enlisted me (despite the fact that we hadn’t spoken since they’d started dating) to drive her to a hotel on the edge of town, to meet him and his friends, who had driven six hours to meet her. I was worried, and tried to talk her out of it, but she was insistent, and I am never one to disappoint, so I did it.

I live in the constant shame of enabling this relationship.

His friend, also 21, had brought his girlfriend, 16, down to meet my friend as well. I was so afraid for the well-being of my friend.

This man spent years breaking my friend down and morphing her into a perfect trophy wife, and at 18, she moved states away to live with him, and has not spoken to her family since.

I recently spoke with her, and asked her what she was up to. And this girl, who had such dreams at 15, told me that she was studying up on how to rear children for this Man.

She is fully dependent on him, she has no friends but his friends. She has no job, no family, and she never grew up.

Grooming is subtle, it’s small compliments, possessive actions, building dependence.

We are not rabid animals living off of pure instinct

We are capable of rational thinking and understanding. 

Just because someone is cooking food doesn’t mean you’re entitled to eat it. 

Just because a banker is counting money doesn’t mean you’re being given free money.

Just because a person is naked doesn’t mean you’re entitled to fuck them. 

You are not entitled to someone else’s body just because it’s exposed. 

🌧- For a heavy, emotional secret

🙃- For a lighter, slightly embarrassing secret

🌟- For a secret wish or desire of theirs

🍏- For something they secretly wish didn’t exist

🍎- For something they secretly wish did exist

❤️- For a secret crush

📲- Talk about someone/something you dislike, but only pretend to like

👁‍🗨- Talk about someone/something you like, but pretend to dislike

🍻- For something bad/mischievous you did as a child or teen that your parents don’t know about

🌜- For a ‘weird’ habit or tic that no one knows about

💃- For a talent that they like to keep hidden from others

🏹- For a talent they wish they had

👻- For something that scares or disturbs them, but they refuse to tell anyone

☢️- For a controversy or scandal they have been able to keep mostly under wraps

🐇- For a secret item they keep (stuffed animal, comfort object, etc)

📒- For a secret journal/diary they keep (Bonus: Share an entry from it!)

📔- For a secret sketchbook they keep (Bonus: Share a sketch or doodle within it!)

🖤- For something they secretly wish they could do with your muse

Fact: the majority of bisexuals are closeted.

Bisexuals make up the majority of the LGBTQ+ community and a huge percentage if not the majority of people in general.

WATCH THIS: MAN SHUTS DOWN ANTISEMITIC WHITE POWER PREACHER

One of my friends in the Boston area took this video and gave me permission to post it. She writes: “ I stood there for twenty minutes, easily. Hitler Youth kept trying to preach about “the evils of the Jews” and the big guy barely let him get a word in edgewise. At one point, the big guy yelled, “I will be here ALL DAY” and the crowd cheered.”

Every time he opens his mouth to speak though, the biker yells “AHHHHHHH!!!” Until the man in the suit shuts up again. When the man in the suit takes a breath and opens his mouth, the biker doesn’t even let him get started and just screams “AHHHHH”…. This happens a few times.

The guy in the suit plows ahead but the biker screams and says “No no no no!!!”

2) The guy is “passionate about” hating and inciting violence against Jews. I’m passionate about information literacy, candle-making, and giving snuggles to my pet rabbit. There’s a fucking difference, there. 

There’s A Woman || Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warning: Drug use, implied abuse history

Gif Credit: @carol-danverse  @awhiteshirt @drogons Thank you so much!

Tag:   @theskinofmyemotions @3eyeddame @vikifirman @reyloshipper-starwars @londoncharlotte88  @megnificent07   @mafaldaz   @deactivated-veen @justmehanav  @i-shouldbepainting  @dermittts @stylesbooze  Please let me know if I forgot someone

Note: I’ve finally figure out the plot to this thanks to the lovely @lainey-lane and @twistedrunes. Thank you friends! I couldn’t have done it without you. This story will have a few more parts. The John part is all @xxdearlybeloved her latest imagine inspired my need for it.

And this is very long! My apologies. As always Reblogs, Likes and Comments makes this the best Friday!!! 

Tommy doesn’t respond to your request to learn about the business for so long you think he made up his mind to pretend you never asked. But then he surprises you and slowly pieces of information trickle out. Mostly at night, after you slip into his room or waking up in your special spot in his bed. First, he tells you he learned a lot in the war, all vague and unrevealing, but slowly more substantial details slip free… 

That he plans to expand the family business. How he acquired the guns and how he hopes to use them. That you should strike when your opponent is weak and that’s exactly where he estimates Mr. Kimber is… Weak. And he intends to do something about it. 

You tell him you want to help him, but Tommy only scoffs. And yet, he keeps talking, night by night, whenever you find your way into his bed. His voice low and deep against the silence that holds steady through the rest of the house. His words like bedtime stories, weaving tales against the dancing flame of the candlelight, and suddenly you realize, you’re getting exactly what you wanted.

When Tommy told you he’d teach you to shoot you were expecting he’d actually be the one to do, but like so many others things in Tommy’s life, he has more important matters to take care of and designates the job to John instead. Which you don’t mind really. You adore John, closest brother to your age and more lighthearted than the others. In all honesty, he’ll be less intimidating to learn from than Tommy and all his silent stares, and long looks that suck you in as you try to figure out what he’s thinking.

“John, you’re gonna teach Vera here how to properly shoot a gun while I take care of a few things with Charlie.” Tommy informs his younger brother as the three of you make your way through Charlie’s yard on a quiet evening as the sun slowly dips closer to the horizon.

“Right Tommy. Come ‘ere you.” John calls with a wiggle of his brow, cheeky as ever. You smile back at him as you leave Tommy’s side. John takes you to the far end of Charlie’s yard, trekking through mud and soot. Trying not to get your heels stuck in it.

John takes you where the guys come to let off some steam with a few rounds and a few drinks sometimes, out near the back of the yard, down near the canal. When he stops, you spot the small tower of boxes not far from you, broken bottles lining the top. You wait for him as he wanders over to it, tossing the broken ones into the mud and pulling intact ones from the crate beside it, lining them up in a row before he returns to you.

Pulling the gun from his holster, John hands it to you. “Take it,” He instructs gently with an easy smile, teeth gleaming at you past the pick between his teeth. No doubt trying to ease the nerves he sees in your eyes.

“You’re gonna point it over there, ya?” He tells you, pointing to the short tower of boxes and bottles atop as you glance that way. You figured as much, but you nod just the same.

“Good,” John tells you, spitting out the stick in his teeth as he comes to stand to your side, drawing your arm up, and pointing the gun directly out in front of you. You feel your back bump into his chest as he moves behind you a little, reaching for your other hand, drawing it up to wrap around the revolver as well.

“Right, now cock it with your thumb.” John says, his warm breath fanning the hair on the side of your face and tickling your ear as you resist the urge to laugh. He releases your arms and you feel one of his hands settle gently at your waist. You glance down at his touch and John’s eyes follow the turn of your head a moment after.

“Shit - Sorry love, force of habit.” He tries to explain as he lets you go, but just as quickly your reaching for his hand and pulling it back with your permission.

“No, I don’t mind, really.” You tell him encouragingly, as if having him there is somehow comforting and reassuring as he lingers behind your shoulder, following your eyeline. You pull the hammer back until you hear it click.

There’s A Woman || Part 4a

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warning:  implied abuse history

Gif Credit: @ peakyshelbyss  @ nastykarg  Thank you so much!

Tag:   @theskinofmyemotions @3eyeddame @vikifirman@reyloshipper-starwars @londoncharlotte88  @megnificent07   @mafaldaz   @deactivated-veen @justmehanav  @i-shouldbepainting  @dermittts @stylesbooze   @neversleeping4am, @icebluegriffin  @johhnshelby, @ subhamamu @unicorn-glitter-princess @thatsamegirl, @mafaldaz, @cafe-sabor-a-chocolate,  @collegecatlady,  @20th-centu-fairy-girl, @xlightning-disasterx  @niiight-dreamerrrr  @i-shouldbepainting  @dermittts  @stylesbooze  @badwolf-in-the-impala  @mafaldaz  @athewindsofsummer  @peaky50  @weeo   @thelightsideoflife @s0tc  @i-shouldbepainting  @dermittts  @stylesbooze

Please let me know if I forgot someone

Note: This is only Part A. So as some of you know this chapter got away from me and I had to cut it. But the two pieces belong together. So I’m posting Part A today and one week from today I will post Part B.

I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it every time - Reblogs, Likes and Comments are the ultimate!!! It’s the only way I know you guys like this story or not. And Thank you SO So much to everyone who has supported this story so far! You guys are the best!

You’re a mess of emotions the first time you meet Linda, nervous but also excited too. When Arthur told you he wanted you to meet her first, you felt special. Affirming that while what you and Arthur have may not be traditional, it’s still real. And the light Linda has brought to his eyes, giving him everything you couldn’t, it made you love her already. It felt like getting to meet a new member of the family. But all those silly little notations were just that - notions, and easily dashed once you found yourself seated across from Linda in her tiny flat. 

Only then did you realize you weren’t meeting your new family, you were meeting your replacement. A woman you got the sense was twice the one you are, because there’s still days you feel like a child. But you know how important she is to Arthur, so you try to make the best of it and make a good impression. Only the more you want to impress her, the more you worry you won’t say the right thing or act the right way. Your nerves only heightening when you remember Arthur said she’s a pious woman, because if there’s anything you’re not, it’s that.

Sitting across from her is intimidating. Her home is immaculate. Everything in its place, clean and tidy. With the good Lord’s book on the coffee table between you and a cross hanging center piece on the wall beside the King’s portrait. There’s a presence to Linda, a look in her eyes, in the way she looks at you. It’s full of the kind of quiet unspoken judgement that makes you feel like your eight all over again and about to be punished. But the way she gazes at Arthur is softer, sweeter, so you try and hold onto that as her eyes continue to scan between you and Arthur, as the two of you sit awkwardly on her couch.

“Arthur explained the unfortunate circumstance surrounding your marriage… Why it had to be done.” She explains over tea and biscuits, her tone neutral, but her eyes suspended, awaiting your confirmation. You can hear it, the words she doesn’t say. She wants to hear it from you, that it’s just an arrangement and an unconsummated one at that. You can feel her uncertainty from just a few feet away. But it’s her choice of words that unnerve you. The unfortunate circumstance… 

Your heart beginning to pound harder as you stare at her blankly for a moment, your mind racing.  Has Arthur told her why you had to marry? The thought alone leaves the sting of betrayal shooting through your heart as you suddenly turn to Arthur beside you in disbelief. How he could tell her something he swore to never reveal. A secret that isn’t his to share.

“Yes,” Arthur pipes up quickly as he meets your eyes and reads the question forming in your gaze.

“I hope you don’ mind, I told her about your mum’s passing an’ how you were going to be sent to one of those children homes. It was the only way to keep ya.” Arthur clarifies, taking your hand from where it rests on the couch to give it a squeeze. The look in his eyes reassuring you, he’d never betray you that way. Not even with Linda.

You nod as relief washes over you he hasn’t spilt your darkest secret to a woman you even didn’t know. Relieved that even though he might be smitten, he hasn’t betrayed you. That he’s still the man you know and love. You hold Arthur’s gaze and smile at him warmly before turning back to Linda.

“Arthur’s a good man. He saved me.” You tell her, squeezing his hand in return. Arthur may not be the most formidable, the most cunning Shelby, but he makes you feel the safest. He made you feel safe when nothing in this world felt safe. Stood by you long after anyone else would have left. And loved you even when you felt unlovable. He feels like home. Even now. Even after Linda. And judging by her next comment she must sense it too.

“You’re more beautiful than Arthur described.” Linda speaks up and you feel Arthur grow uneasy by her comment as he quickly pulls his hand from yours.

You don’t know what to say to that. Unsure if it’s a compliment or a test. You don’t know what the proper line of response is for a statement such as this. Especially from a woman you’re quite certain is more beautiful than you could ever be. But you think she needs to hear why you and Arthur never became.

“Tommy thinks so too. He’s quite taken with our Vera.” Arthur pipes up abruptly, awkwardly as he reaches over to take Linda’s hand. You watch the exchange and suddenly feel out of place. Arthur’s choice of words only further confusing you as your gaze shoots back to him.

“You an’ Tommy are quite close then?” Linda asks, probing, but you never look her way. Your eyes locked on Arthur as he slowly turns back to you. You can see in his gaze, he needs you to ease Linda’s fears and for him, you’d do almost anything.

Your gaze drops to your wringing hands as they sit uneasy in your lap, nodding slowly.

“Yes, we’re close.” You say. For Arthur, you do it for Arthur.

“He likes it when I climb in his bed at night.” You answer numbly, absently mindedly, losing grip on your attempts to be pleasing as your words slip out low like a whisper, your heart growing heavy in your chest.

“I beg your pardon?” Linda glances over at Arthur, suddenly confused by the boldness of your statement.

Arthur turns to you, gripping your hand tightly, stirring you from your thoughts. You gaze rises to meet his and instantly you can see the concern growing heavy in his eyes.

“Our Vera has nightmares from time to time. An’ sometimes they make her wander.” He tries his best to explain what anyone else would find utterly inexcusable, without giving away your secrets, because he can see in your eyes this is already taxing you.

Your belly tightens as your heart grows heavy. It feels like losing your mum and Da all over again. Looking at Arthur you can practically feel him slipping away. And you want to be happy for him, but in this moment all you can feel is a deep unbidding sense of loss.

“You have to excuse me, I’m suddenly not feeling well.” You abruptly say. Pulling from Arthur’s eyes as you rise from the couch and force a smile at Linda.

“It was lovely meeting you, but I really must be going.” You say politely with what’s left of your manners, trying to appear cordial for Arthurs sake before you move quickly for the door with unease.

As soon as your outside, you fill your lungs with the smoggy factory air, trying to catch your breath. But then you feel Arthur hot on your heels and you start to move. You don’t know why you evade him, but you feel you must, storming quickly down the lane. You hear him hollering your name at your back as you go.

“Tommy’s waiting for me. I have to go. Enjoy your time with Linda.” You yell, hiding the tears that burn and fill at the edges of your eyes. Never turning back, never slowing your pace, disappearing as quickly as you can down the lane, leaving Arthur to his happiness before he can leave you behind…

 Having finally gotten the children down to bed, having wrangled and fought, bribed and begged until all of them finally fell asleep, you collapse against the old sticky couch beside John. Your head lulling back against the top edge as you sigh heavily in relief. 

Katie was the hardest. She’s always the hardest. Middle child, youngest girl, and at six years old, she’s old enough to remember Martha, but still too young to understand why she died. Her crying spelling and bed wetting often make her the most challenging of the bunch at times, but having not been much older than she is when you Da died, you sympathize with her pain. Snuggling her close after the others have gone to bed. Singing and rocking to her slowly until she settles in and drifts off.

You don’t know how John does it on his own. John doesn’t either. So you try to help out as best you can; you, Polly, and Ada. The Shelby women doing fucking women’s work.

John sparks a cigarette beside you, taking a pull from it before passing it to you like a gift of gratitude for helping him with the kids. You know he’s grateful and you’re happy to help. John’s good to you and it’s never a hardship to return the favor. They run him ragged. He can’t keep a handle on them. He had too many, too young, and your heart pains for him, none of them have been the same since Martha died.

“Thank you, handsome.” You say, flashing him a wide sparkling grin as you draw the cigarette up to your lips before taking a long pull, nursing the exhaustion hitting you hard and fast after the fight you were just put through.

John’s eyes glance your way, and you can’t help but notice how beautiful his eyes are. All blue and open, but not closed off to the world like Tommy’s.

“You flirt with all the boys like that, ey?” John teases you, opening his arm to you from his spot on the old tattered couch, more covered in stains than upholstery.