#diondra

Put that tongue back in your mouth

THey fuckign mansplained Godot to you what level are they on

   I MEAN……… IT…. IT MAKES SENSE   

1. I’m obviously 100°F, don’t undercut me. 2. I’m the most attractive.

But fine. Top five, regardless of gender, in no particular order because I don’t want to pick a favourite child.

for your ears.mp3  ◄◄  ( west end kids.new politics )                                           @dixndrawoods​

There were a lot of things weighing on his mind, eating at his conscience like koi fish in a pond scrambling for crumbs. What he was doing here, or why he decided to come, was out of emotional impulse. Mason was careful with where he spent his time - there was only so much as a law student in pro bono - but when someone told him about the Prayer Group for Superhumans on Wednesday evenings, his interest piqued a little. Mason could use prayer in his life; it felt like he’d been floating, aimlessly without faith in himself or the universe.

But here he was, slouched over in his chair, the furthest away - an inch - from the prayer circle group that he could. Not out of indifference, their conceptions of sin rather interesting, but the last thing Mason wanted to do was talk. They all talked about the mundane things in life; the uncomplicated. But him... nobody had even dared to mention their powers, unpacking the truths in their lives, their fear of ASH. Mason didn’t really want to be the person that brought all the heavy stuff to the room. This was his first time, and he didn’t want to come off strong - not like he did in the grocery store with Xavier, terrifying him out of his mind... out of his body.

Those were things he wanted to talk about, but everyone - everyone had been exceedingly simple. Maybe he was just too fucked up to be accepted.

It felt more like a chopping block as the circle neared him. Perhaps if he could slide away, find an excuse to use to use the bathroom or something, he wouldn’t have to confess his sins.

“And so, after my third time in rehab, I decided to trade drugs for Jesus. And now I’m here, a few months strong in my faith.”

“Thank you, John, for confessing your sins. Let us offer you prayer.” The room fell silent.

He contemplated it. Making a run for the door, slithering out, anything. But as everyone’s eyes opened back up, falling towards him, Mason merely petrified.

“Hi. I’m, uh, Mason Clad,” he stammered out, swallowing thickly. His skin prickled with goosebumps. Most of the time, Mason was quick to divert attention away from himself, preferring to be on the outer rim of the conversation. But their eyes were fully focused on him, on the way he played with his fingers out of habit, how he folded into himself. 

Mason looked towards a woman across the room in order to clear his thoughts, briefly meeting her gaze before it fell to the floor. A part of him, after making eye contact, felt a little less judged - he could finally focus on the stuff weighing upon his mind, tugging at him in his sleep. While Mason really didn’t know what to say, he had to start somewhere... 

He swallowed thickly. “I was at the grocery store buying groceries like milk and cheese and, uh, vegetables. Then I met this person, and we started flirting. I’ve been feeling lonely because I miss, um, uh, err, well... I miss my boyfriend. And I’ve been kissing people when I know I shouldn’t... It got to a point where I invited him to my place to hang out and that’s when I kissed him. In the grocery store. And, uh, when I touch or kiss people sometimes, well, you know... weird things happen and--”

Mason paused to gaze upon the expression on other people’s faces. Their jaws were dropped; their cheeks were flushed red; the one holding the group had her face against her palm. He had to wrap this up.

"I’ve been trying not to feel lonely, but then I do dumb things like kiss people when I know I shouldn’t. So, um, thank you for your prayers and... yeah.”

Talking about it was supposed to help, but Mason had never felt so humiliated in his life. What was he doing, going to religious support groups and talking about being queer, about his infidelity, about his... powers. He shrank into himself.

The rest of the time, Mason sat frozen in his seat like a fish at the market. He’d been so dumb, realizing that the prayer group was for humans. What had he done...

By the end of the session, Mason bolted for the door, his shoulder bumping with the woman he’d looked at during his confession. “Oh, um, my apologies, I... forgive me, I mean--I’m sorry.”