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#I like to think I have decent face skin but even I still get pimples I have some old acne spots and the texture isn't always even across my
femme-enby · 2 years
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Just some personal bitching-
I’ve had to take a break from T because it turns out I take after not just my dad, but my maternal uncle in terms of acne, bc when his acne was it’s worst during puberty he had horrific cystic acne.
And guess what I ended up getting after about 8ish months on T???
My uncle’s struggle with his acne as a teen led to him STILL not being comfortable with ANYONE touching his face, and he is now in his late 50s, or very early 60s even after it being medically treated.
Warning, it’s gonna get gross bc I’m gonna complain about EXACTLY what my face is like.
Starting off tame- painful. I’ve got 3-4 primary cysts, 2 on my left cheek, which has made it so for the past month I haven’t been able to lay on my left side bc nothing can really touch it.
Each cyst is so sensitive that when I’m in the shower (and mind you my water pressure ain’t great, it just feels like decent rain IMO) the water directly hitting them can hurt like a bee sting and send me almost into a backbend to get away from when a drop hits JUST right.
But honestly that ain’t the worst of it.
Not even the obscene amount of whiteheads that appear every 2-3 hours is worse.
No, what is worse than the pain is that my face LEAKS.
If I emote too much it hurts. If I open my mouth too much it hurts. But I don’t even have to be emoting or trying to eat for one of them to decide to just… start leaking.
I’m a walking biohazard.
They don’t just leak puss though, it’s bloody puss. I have a soft, dark towel on my pillow and when I wake up there’s gunk on it. I could just be sitting around, not doing anything, and I’ll just feel that something is off and I’ll brush the back of my hand near where it feels off and it’ll be that my face started leaking. (Of course I wash up and get a napkin or paper towel till it stops.)
But I’ve been off T for… 2-3 weeks now I think? And they aren’t getting better. It’s like it just reached some switch in my genes and now my skin is like “yo, FUCK you.”
And I’ve got smaller, sensitive cysts on my neck, 3 of em. One on my chin.
I’ve got acne everywhere though… arms, calves, shoulders, thighs, ass, stomach, back, chest… sometimes in very sensitive spots as well…
And I mean, I’ve always been acne prone so I thought I could handle it but… damn.
And now my dermatologist, on top of starting accutane (well not actually accutane, the generic version bc that name was taken off the market) she wants to try steroid injections first to help with the cysts, but if you’ve ever watched someone like Dr. Pimple Popper then you know that cysts often have to be removed. I’d have to have surgery where they cut open each one, drain them and remove the sack. Even worse than that though is if they have caused too much damage, they might just have to remove a section of skin.
Plus I start my seasonal job as a haunt actor soon, and not only have they barely given me and a lot of returning people any hours (I’m scheduled for 6hr shifts OPENING WEEKEND when a new hire is scheduled 8.5hr shifts) but also I’m terrified of trying to explain to them the severity of my skin and what I might need as a costume (mask instead of makeup, with only my eyes blacked out) because I don’t want to be seen as a nuisance…
I just want to feel like I wouldn’t be better off skinning my face. I just wanna be able to sleep comfortably and not having to sleep like a dead body in a coffin due to the pain sometimes. I just wanna be able to go out in public, walk around my neighborhood or go to the dog park without feeling like I have to wear a mask even outside away from people due to fear of disgusting someone or making someone worry that I’m diseased.
And the worst part? I know I’m being a huge hypocrite to myself- if anyone else near me was going through this I wouldn’t care about how they look or if their face is leaking, I’d just wanna know how I could possibly help them. I wouldn’t think they look gross or diseased, I wouldn’t think they need to hide out in their house during the day. I wouldn’t think they should feel ashamed of their face- I’ve seen people with bad acne, I went to high school with a girl who’s cheeks looked similar (albeit with a darker skintone, so it was less “white and red” and more “light brown and dark brown”) and I NEVER once thought “ew, gross” I thought she was beautiful. I never thought guys with bad acne were gross either.
But also… I ain’t never seen someone with MY skin tone look like this. I’ve never seen someone as white as me with acne this bad.
I just want to be able to be ME. I just want to smile without flinching, or take a shower without almost slipping from jumping at the pain. I just want the physical and emotional pain to stop.
I want to be able to wear some of my nicer clothes without feeling like I don’t deserve them. I want to be able to pick clothes without having to specifically go “okay, I need dark colors in case something starts to bleed.”
I feel like my cheeks are half their size bigger because of the acne and I hate being so AWARE of every single inch of my face.
The medication can take MONTHS to start seriously working, and a full SIX months for me to be DONE with a round of treatment. I could need a SECOND round. I definitely do not drink enough water for as dry as my body might be.
I also don’t really have anyone who has or had acne like this to talk to- my dad had bad acne but not like this. My uncle isn’t really much of a talker, especially not about touchy feely topics (my mom, his little sister, and my nana, his mom, will say “I love you” and he always says “you too.” My mom actually got CONCERNED and was a little misty eyed once when he actually said “I love you”) so I can’t really talk to him about it.
I just feel so gross and alone, and even though my partner genuinely doesn’t seem to notice any of it, and doesn’t seem grossed out by it either, I still wish I had someone who understood that I could talk to.
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fauxintellectual · 3 years
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It's crazy that if you're a woman who doesn't wear makeup, you are expected to have perfectly clear, unblemished, even toned, smooth, natural airbrushed skin 24/7
It's like, "yeah you don't have to wear makeup but you still need to uphold to the standards with your natural skin without it unless you want to be ridiculed"
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rrazor · 3 years
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what is your skincare routine 🥺 plus imagine doing face masks with ur hq boy 😩😩 pleeaaaaaaseeee manifest
my routine is just a bunch of serums + moisturizer topped off with an obsession with cosrx :^) 
here’s some of my personal h/c’s about their routine and how u fit in 💖
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kuroo overexfoliated when he was 16 and that’s when he decided to get into skincare 🤡 but you’re really the one who ties it all together and finishes it 😤 has a bunch of blackheads and is hesitant about using acids but trusts you when you rec a bha (salicylic) and to his surprise it works!! you teach other about ingredients and formulations (more teaching on your end since he’s such an overachiever and is in a million different things) but his skin really goes 🌺🌺 when he’s got a routine down.
another amazing boyfriend to do self-care days with because he needs them so much 😭💞 spends the whole day by your side at home doing whatever whenever and holding your hand the whole way through 💖 does the spoon in the fridge technique to depuff his eyes after a late night and always sends u morning selfies with them on his face all “Good morning my Fated One 🥄👄🥄” 💀💀💀
bokuto already has a skincare routine kudos of his sisters when you start dating and only gets back into doing it regularly when he learns you like doing it too 💕 he wants to spend more time with you as if he isn’t already glued to your hip 😭🤚💗💗
but he slaps his face really hard like really hard 😵 you have to teach him to gently dab and work the product into the skin but he sits like a good boy on the edge of the tub and closes his eyes for you 💛💛 keeps his hands on your hips too ☺️ gets acne here and there and sticks on the pimple patches you give him while telling you “y'know, babe, since you gave these to me, it’s like ur kissing me all night long!!! 🥺🥰😚💕” kiss him now pls
akaashi looks like he has his life together but his skincare routine is 😬 uses bar soap and the same anti-aging face lotion as his mom but his skin is 🌹🌸🌺✨he’s skeptical when he tries out new products but he comes around pretty quickly when he notices how less fatigued he looks 💀
he loves doing masks with you and likes to do one in the morning and one at night because you’ve got him hooked now 😤 he’s so dewy oh my god man is literally gleaming like a diamond 💎✨what have u done….. i bet he has a gua sha and rolls your face for you too 🥺 he’s so gentle omg stop…. looks at u with the softest look in his eyes when you giggle at how funny the sheet masks make the two of you look 💞❤️💕💓💝
oikawa while it’s universally thought in fanon that oikawa is a skincare junkie, i’d say that he’s more so really picky and meticulous. he has specific steps he follows to the t and knows how and when to bring in a new product for any seasonal weather and other changes in his skin. he’s not necessarily going to try your products unless he’s convinced they’ll work for him (everyone’s different after all), but he’s definitely open to you trying his and sharing what you both know 😤💗💗
easily one of the best boyfriends to have self care days with: nails, hair, face, online shopping, you name it, he’ll do it with you 🥰💄💅 i think he hates hyaluronic acid and avoids it like the plague lmfao one of his favourite ways to pass the evenings is the two of you together gossiping with your masks on and eating snacks 🌹🥰🥰🌹
iwaizumi lmfao this mf’er is sooo handsome 🥵 so i say oily skin that’s prone to breakouts 😇 yeah i think iwa struggles with acne and his scars, but he gets lucky that he grows out it by third/fourth year university 😘 uses a basic cleanser marketed towards acne 🤢🤢 and some moisturizer🧴he doesn’t trust oikawa with skincare recommendations because one of the product he gave him had glycolic acid in it and iwa’s skin said 👹
he’s reluctant but lets you help him with his skin and it makes a notable improvement throughout your relationship 👍✨gets heart palpitations when you grab his face and kiss him all over 💘💘 and genuinely thinks you’re one of the best thing to have happened to him when you coo “so handsome hajime 💕” yeah i just think he’s a sucker for you saying his first name lmao
matsukawa he has pretty decent skin, maybe a bit oily and will get spots here and there but overall puberty said nah this one’s cool 😎👍 so he comes in with very basic knowledge about skincare. though bless his heart, he tries out a bunch of stuff with you and is always open to doing masks and trying out new products with you 🥺💖
his skin is pretty resilient so watch him go 😨🤭 when you breakout and he doesn’t jgjebnfkwzl he kisses ur acne scars and spots tho so dw he madly in love ok? 😘🥰❤️ once he starts seeing the changes, he keeps up with the routine you made together for him but he likes to beg for you to do it for him “aw, c’mon babe don’t u want your hands all over this? 😩🤚💕💓💦” i hate him
hanamaki he has a mini routine and knows the general steps from his older sister and because i firmly believe he has dry, sensitive skin. he avoids fragrances, alcohols and all the sulphates and parabens but weirdly his skin is okay with silicones. anyways, he’s the one that introduces you to these amazing korean face masks and now you’re both hooked, spending weekends and days off at his house walking around with ur masks on all 💓👽👽💓
a little bit harder to work with in terms of exploration with your products but he finds his cheeks pinking 💖 and heart beating a little harder 🥰 when you go out of your way to find products that fit his criteria and gets rlly sappy when you start using them too 😭💓💕 he buys the bigger bottles for himself and small bottles for u because he’s whipped (and funny) that way 😐💖
kita looks like he and his grandma would some diy face masks together 🥰❤️ he’s got a basic cleanser and moisturizer but doesn’t do much else. spends a lot of time learning about the products and right steps so he can be a useful partner when you go shopping together 🥺💘💞
he comes to love oils, especially squalane and rosehip seed oil. also becomes a vitamin c junkie 😤 he’s a stickler for patch-testing and comes to really enjoy the whole skincare process in the morning and evenings as his own me time. really appreciates and thanks you for sharing this part of your daily life with him 🥺💘💞💞💖 invites you over to do masks with his grandma 😘
atsumu yeah he gets his beautiful skin from his mom and literally everything else because his mom is 🌸✨in both personality and looks. exfoliates three to four times a week and still looks amazing so you really have to wonder what his skin is doing and what yours isn’t 😔
when he finds the products that work™️ for him (kudos to you), he genuinely cannot stop admiring the shine of his skin after someone points it out he’s all 👁👃👁✨ and calls you up “babe ‘m beautiful did’ja know look at me look” 😐 likes to do skincare routines together but rushes through his so that he can do other stuff with you 😭💗💖💕 hates it when you push him away and don’t let him kiss you while your products are settling 🥺☹️💔
osamu my guy here is also blessed with naturally occurring bacteria that gives him beautiful skin like life rlly isn’t fair 😟😟 he doesn’t know much but lets you do whatever and loves loves loves it when you put all the products on him 🥺❤️ sits down between your legs all 💗🐶💗 prefers mud masks over sheet ones and likes to smear yours on for u 🥰
he comes to love skincare, not as much as you but enjoys how his face feels after he’s all moisturized and such. though he never remembers sunscreen so please carry some with you 😭 he buys you snacks and sneaks kisses while u wait for your products to settle on ur face 💖💖 uses a jade roller in the mornings as he checks his phone because it feels nice 👍✨✨
suna sensitive skin but relatively normal in terms of oiliness. ik he steals his younger sister’s products if they’re close in age 💀 he has very little idea how to get started so when he jumps in and tries one of yours he breaks out really bad and curses you lmfaoooo 👿👿👹🤡
ok but once he gets a decent routine in, he does his best to keep up with it and it helps!! his skin feels less tight and more supple so he might love you a little more for that 🙄🤚💖 he prefers sheet masks and lets you clip his curtain bangs to the side✨ also looks like the kinda guy who likes to sit on the balcony/patio with his mask on and soak up the sun in the mornings after you both have your sunscreen on 🌼🌼
ushijima his skin is dehydrated but he doesn’t know it, has accepted the oiliness of his skin as a symptom of his athletics 😔 he’s got a bunch of expensive luxury products given to him by his mom and she’s told him to use them but he doesn’t know what the right order is so he puts on an occlusive first before anything else 😭😭😭
genuinely appreciates you so much when you take the time to teach him about everything and even asks if you could give him some notes so that he can refer to them when you’re not by his side 🥺💗💕💖 joins you in your product endeavours and gives you succinct but helpful feedback on what he likes and doesn’t like 😤 likes to hold you while u do masks together 🌼 and rests his head on urs 😭🌸💕
tendou uses whatever he’s got at home and what his mom gets him 🤷‍♀️ spots here and there but otherwise pretty clear skin. he’s open to trying anything and everything with you because he’s just really happy to spend time with you 🥰💞💞
sits really close to you and let’s you have free reign of his face when you sleep over at his place!! he giggles a lot because it tickles but never asks you to stop 🥺💜 thanks you for helping him and making him look so pretty 🌷✨looks like he’d be allergic to propolis/honey-based ingredients...
semi handsome man…. another one that looks dehydrated to me but he’s trying just please help him 😭🤚 he’s too nervous to go skincare shopping on his own because of the sheer amount of selection available 😢 tags along with you like a little puppy when you go with him 🐶💘
i feel like he has closed comedones 🤔 he tries out your retinol and keeps up with it when you told him some people got rid of theirs using it and…… it worked 😳🌟✨ thinks you’re a skincare goddess now lmfao 😤👊 when girls in university ask him about his skin, he just calls you and puts you on speaker because “my baby worked rlly hard so she should get all the credit” 😭💖💖
sakusa i think rosacea but also wealthy parents who had access to numerous dermatologists who nipped it in the bud as soon as they saw it 🤑 anyways he’s got near perfect skin lol goes through periods of dryness and keeps a strict regimen of products 👌🌟 swears by aloe vera and keeps some with him at all times 💗
though i do think you gently push him to introduce serums and essences into his routine (which is basic, but covers all his bases). you let him experiment and he finds one from cosrx that he considers a holy grail 😳 he likes doing ur skincare routine for you and you sit on the toilet seat and grin up at him 🥰 he blushes but doesn’t look away and might or might not admit he loves to be in such close contact with you 💘💘
hoshiumi kinda brutal with the way he goes about it; it looks like he’s beating the product in 💀👊👊 uses bar soap on both his face and body and wonders why his skin is dry and tight after showers “what? doesn’t that mean you didn’t clean all the gross oil off?” 😶😐😑 u gotta start from scratch with this guy 🤐
he pays attention to you but also doesn’t and finds it a bit of a hassle to go through five different products so he settles for a really basic routine 🥱 has one really fancy bottle of serum he takes with him to games and such and goes “my girlfriend gave it to me what don’t you have something like this 🤔” before putting it on if anyone asks 💀🤚💗 a full on chad 💪
hirugami he definitely has a skincare routine…. handsome 🤤 though i think he dislikes the feeling of sheet masks on his face; they feel too goopy and he doesn’t like how slimey they are. he prefers just using a short list of serums to keep his skin healthy and plump 💖✨likes hypoallergenic and fragrance-free products 👌
had acne back in middle school and a bit in first year. feel like he goes through a flare up in third year 😇🙃 anyways he likes standing next to u in the washroom doing ur routines side by side 🥰 wears those fluffy animal ear headbands with you and puts on your lip balm for you 💓💓 his dog came up and licked u across the face one time 😭 he almost choked with how hard he was laughing at u 😔 but he helped u redo it 😭💝
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notmrskennedy · 3 years
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Professor, pt 1
A/N - so i heard from like four of you which is enough to warrant me posting drafts that weren’t supposed to see the light of day - ANYWAY this was originally written in third person and let me tell you it takes a ridiculous amount of effort to change tenses like holy hell. 
(Technically the prequel Friendliness but can stand alone if you really want it to. There’s a part two to this so watch out for that tomorrow.)
Summary - Spencer meets a professor and falls in love for a few hours
W/C - 2k
Warnings - none-ish? there’s a small smattering of violence and horrible changing of the tenses 
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Spencer can’t help the irony that he’s in a freshman college class for the first time ever while protecting one of the students. Who knew that a tiny club of DnD players could incite so much rage out of an un-sub? So here he was, trying to blend in—even though he’s 25, he still looks 14 and there’s really no real reason why he should be worried about being caught—in order to protect a freshman who was more pimple than male specimen. 
Joesph—the poor kid in question—takes a seat in the front row and Spencer’s obligated to sit within tackling distance, though he hopes it won’t come to that. Hopefully, Morgan will have the kid the un-sub goes for and Spencer can just enjoy being in college again. The painfully familiar auditorium seats, the stale air, and bad fluorescents feel more like home than he cares to admit. 
College hadn’t been all too unpleasant. High school he’d gotten picked on mercilessly. College, however, had meant getting doted on by hot sorority girls and earning the protection of frat boys—they’d picked up rather quickly that he knew football strategy better than they did after Spencer had hustled a TV and 400 dollars from them. Sure, he didn’t drink, but every single drunk teenager had welcomed him with open arms and lots of ginger ale. 
There’s chatter and for the ten minutes before class starts, Spencer is torn between trying to figure out which song is quietly playing around the room and watching for a particularly rage-filled college student serial killer. Instead, he just finds too many bored faces. Most of the kids are drinking coffee like the best of them and he’s itching for his next fix just looking at it. 
The first two rows: a terrible vantage point to be profiling, but a beautifully defensible post. He watches absently as one of the TAs, who looks a little younger than him, organizes three stacks of papers on the front desk and flips through several different pages on the podium. His attention is focused solely on you for nearly a minute too long—he can hear the voice in his head chastising him for how often he gets distracted by pretty people. 
You look of the fragile sort, the in-the-lab kind of future scientist. There’s something about you that’s captivating. It might be the way you keep reorganizing the papers to perfection or maybe it’s the way you study the room so closely. And while he thinks that you might not be able to physically stop someone, you sure look like the kind of person that could crush him in chess. 
He’s 25 and is considering chess as a marriage proposal.  
Joesph shuffles his books around in the seat in front of Spencer and you, the beautiful TA in question, hold a watch up as you move to the centre of the room. Class is starting. Class is starting and he’s hopeful the professor never actually shows up. 
He notices your watch is on your right wrist—are you left handed?—as you smile widely and clap her hands together. First day jitters seem to keep everyone silent, waiting on baited breath for you to start. Spencer would stay on baited breath for the rest of his life for you. You were utterly captivating after all—he could see the drool from several students’ mouths a few seats over. 
“This is Anthropology 101,” you announce. “If this isn’t your class, you’re free to leave. Or stay if you want. Did you guys know that anxiety disorders affect more than 40 million US adults? Or 1 in 5, I guess, if you want the easier pill to swallow.”
Spencer’s heart jumps into his throat and he wants to raise his hand just to ask you to marry him. 
“Anyway,” you sigh, leaning back agains the front desk, “I spit out a lot of facts. Usually something that begins with ‘did you know’ won’t be on the tests. I try to be fair. Which brings us to ice breakers.”
The class collectively groans. You scoff. 
“Oh hush, I’m the only one doing the ice breakers so chill out. Jeez.” Spencer waits patiently for your soft breath and then your further announcement of, “I’m officially Dr. Y/N Y/L/N, but that’s like only if my boss comes in or for any emails you send. You can call me Y/N because that’s like normal. I got my doctorate in forensic anthropology a year ago and I’ve been teaching since I started grad school three years ago. You’re in safe hands, I promise.”
He almost kicks himself. You’re the professor. How many times had he been nearly kicked out of a classroom when he was in grad school for saying he was the professor? How many times had he been 18 and trying to get an ounce of respect for himself? 
You continue, waving your hands about like you could pull your ideas back down to earth. “Um—a fun fact about me is that I am not welcome in certain parts of the world for ‘violating’ what are called exhumation laws, which is silly in my opinion. I had the legal right to carry that head on the plane and—and I hope you did the reading because there’s a first day pop quiz.”
The entire class lets out one simultaneous frustrated whine that alights something almost wicked in your eyes. You wave over two students from the other end of the front row and they begin passing out test papers as you explain. 
“You’ll have a total of fifteen minutes to answer ten questions. We’ll start on my mark. If you have any trouble, give me a shout and I’ll help you out. After this, we’ll go over the syllabus and if you’re lucky, leave early.”
Spencer’s passed a test and immediately notices there’s no place for a name. Just a bolded “Student #21” at the top. Another girl raises the question and you snicker. “I like puzzles,” is the only answer you give before the time starts. 
Question four: what are the top three songs you’ve been listening to? Please list.
Question six: why are you taking this class?
A: This is a requirement
B: I heard it was easy
C: I heard the professor was hot
D: I really enjoy anthropology! (liar)
Question nine: Creationism or Evolution?
Question ten: Quickly. If you were going to have dinner, would it be with Bill or Hillary Clinton?
Spencer can’t hide the grin he’s got the entire test. It’s all ridiculous get-to-know-you questions. He can tell what merit you’re getting out of them. There’s one judging study habits, one judging religion, feminism, politics—you’ve created her own little innocuous questionnaire. Spencer was sure the students would just think you were strange, but he saw the cleverness. 
Spencer also notices that once you notice him, you don’t stop noticing him. He wonders what you see. You’re so obviously profiling him that it hurts. Do you see the FBI agent? The scholar? The doctor? The drug addict? The man in a boy’s skin?
Your timer beeps and you shout for pencils down. Your makeshift TAs are dispatched to collect the papers and you make the stacks perfect when they make it to the desk. You move to the whiteboard, a set of papers clutched in your hand, and lean against it to address the class. 
“Test go alright?” your grin is contagious and Spencer can’t help but mirror it. You glance at Spencer, turns back to the class, and tuck your hair behind your ear. You let the class chatter on for a moment, setting the papers down on the table, and readjust the undone cuffs of your white button down. He never thought that a sweater vest and jeans could look so hot. 
You smirk and check your watch one more time. “Let’s talk about tests because I know you all have questions. Everything on the test is either written on the board, on the notes, or in the study guide—if you fail after that, come to office hours. I’ve got Advil for the hangovers.”
#
Thankfully, Joesph is one of those students who has to speak to every single one of his professors. Spencer waits patiently behind the kid, trying to keep the smell from the lack of deodorant just out of range. 
He keeps a hard gaze on all of the students moving in and out of the auditorium. There’s nothing to see, just a lot of students with a lot of normal college apathy. No anger, no serial killer, no one to tackle. 
“Sometimes the BO is worse than a corpse’s expulsion of gas,” you joke from your place atop the desk. Spencer looks up, and furrows his eyebrows as his brain processes. Your face falls for a split second, but your curiosity replaces it just as quickly. Joesph’s jaw hits the floor, stumbling for some way to explain himself or maybe some half decent way to insult the pretty professor. 
Spencer laughs, probably a little more than he should have, considering he wasn’t supposed to out himself as an FBI agent. You tuck your hair behind your ear again and, for someone younger than 25, you are surprisingly wide eyed with perception and curiosity. 
“Do you like puzzles, Doctor—“
“Reid,” he supplies, trying to swallow around the lump in his throat. “Spencer.”
You raise an eyebrow, chewing on your bottom lip in contemplation. You turn your focus back to Joesph—a boy worse at talking to those scoring higher than an 8 than Spencer was at the same age. “So, Joesph, why does the good doctor need to be within tackling distance of you?”
Joesph flounders, turns to hide his blush, and yelps like God himself has come down to kick him in the ass. Spencer takes one good look at the 18 year old girl charging towards a pimple of a boy and he launches before he can give much consideration to how much its going to hurt. 
But between the noticing and the launching, he makes a list: she’s got so much black eyeliner that Emily’s high school yearbook photos would be jealous; she’s about to inflict about a 9 on the pain scale if she’s left to her plan; there’s obviously no plan other to scratch Joesph’s eyes out; her nails are the size of tiger claws and Spencer desperately wishes he had a better pain tolerance; there’s no weapon. 
The tackle takes seconds. It’s a practised movement. Roll. Knee. Handcuffs. The girl is screaming and crying and kicking and biting. His arm’s on fire and she’s struggling enough that it’s taking more than ten seconds to get the handcuffs on. 
It’s calculated as he presses his knee harder into her back. She yelps and stills long enough that Spencer closes the handcuffs on her tiny, sliced up wrists. The cutting explains some things…
“Hence the tackling distance,” You sum up, bending down just slightly to look the killer in the face. Your nose wrinkles. “You had very distinct ideas on the cultural value of suicide.”
Spencer shakes his head, hauls the girl to her feet, and beckons for Joesph to follow. The entire world falls out of view as he manhandles the girl into an easy walk. The students step to the side to gawk, and he’s thankful for the wide berth. If someone got hurt, the paperwork alone—
“It was nice meeting you, Dr. Reid!” you call and he glances back over his shoulder. You’re waving around the stack of papers in your arms, utterly ridiculous, terribly adorable. He hopes his smile is more suave than love sick, but the fleeting flirtation is especially over when Miss Unchecked Rage kicks out as Joesph comes into her line of sight. 
Spencer throws his whole weight into keeping her down. There’s no room to fall in love after a day. Especially with someone on a college campus halfway across the country from him. There’s even less room to manoeuvre Miss Eyeliner even without Joesph waddling into her eye line every few seconds. Seriously, he thinks, how hard is it to keep behind me?
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sheinthatfandom · 3 years
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Ashli’s gift
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A gift to my lovely Tumblr wife @icecream-and-gadreel I don’t even remember how this started... oh yeah she wanted to be a hoe at work and I had to remind her covid still exists and somehow it wound up with me writing her Gadreel p*rn lol friendship lol
Tumblr is fucking with the spacing so I don’t wanna hear if some lines are pressed together and others far apart. I might put it on ao3 later just so it’s readible. Once I post I’ll see how badly Tumblr fucked it up.
Warnings: I’m half asleep with a pounding headache so I have no idea wtf I wrote. Soft dom!gadreel feels though and it’s p*rn
Pairing: Gadreel/Ashli (original female character)
It had been a long day at work. Tedious, grueling, thankless work but the pay was decent and it actually had benefits which was the only reason Ashli hasn’t quit yet. Not that she wasn't already biding her time. She had dreams and goals that she wanted to at least attempt while she was still young enough to bounce back in case of failure.
Her lip quirked into a smile thinking of her boyfriend’s long suffering argument as to why she should never consider something a failure so long as she gained knowledge or experience from the endeavour.
Speaking of her boyfriend now that the stress of work was behind her she finally noticed the rich smell coming from the kitchen. She entered and found her boyfriend Gadreel bopping along to the radio. His shirt was tight against his wide shoulders, following the curve of his body town to his tapered back before being replaced with gray basketball shorts that were stretched across the swell of his tight ass. Unable to resist the temptation she reached out and pinched his plump ass making him jump in shock.
“Ashli, I didn’t realize you were home already.”
“It’s been a hell of a day. What’chu making?”
“Food.” He shot back cheekily. “Go take a shower the food will be done soon.”
“Only if you join me.”
He pulled her into a hug, his arms wrapped low around her waist. His lips plucked against hers, an unhurried kiss that spoke of familiarity and comfort. “Yes ma’am.”
A thrill of excitement shot through her but she kept her expression neutral. Gadreel always worked harder to get a reaction out of her and the result always left her boneless wherever she was laid. She didn’t bother to watch him knowing he would follow after her shortly, so instead she turned on the shower so the water could warm up and proceeded to take off her work uniform. Stepping under the hot spray she could feel the tension in her muscles relaxing. Losing track of time she focused on cleaning her skin from the stress and agitation the day caused.
The sound of the shower curtain being pulled open snapped her out of the mindless space she was floating. Large hands wrapped around her belly pulling her against a solid build. Gadreel’s hard cock rubbed between her cheeks as he skimmed over her flesh with his finger tips, causing goose pimples to follow in his wake.
“Sweetheart, are you done washing?”
She dropped her head back so it fell between his shoulder and neck, her nose seeking out the smell of him and the spices he used in the food. “Yeah, did you finish cooking already?”
“It needs to simmer for a while yet. it’s in the crockpot. Would you like to play.”
Her pussy clenched at the innocent sounding question but she knew it was anything but. Gadreel, being as in tuned with her as he was, chuckled lowly against her ear as his hand glided down her body until it found her mound. His fingertips lightly scraping at the light dusting of her between her legs. Those clever fingers found her clit quickly, rubbing in slow sensuous circles until she could feel her legs quaking and she spared a moment's worry that she’d fall in the tub. The arm still wrapped around her reminded her that the man behind her would never let her fall to danger, only pleasure. She cried out in her release, her body already feeling weak and soft in the wake of her orgasm.
In the time she closed her eyes to catch her breath and opened them again she was lying faceup on their bed. Warm kisses and soft whispers were placed on her naked, dry skin.
“Please Gad, just fuck me.” She tried to beg through a raspy spent voice.
He lifted his head, his mouth glistening from the attention he had been paying to her now pebbled nipple. “You are the most precious thing in the world and i will treat you as such.” His voice brokered no argument.
She relaxed against the bed, allowing her boyfriend his fill of kisses and mouthfuls of her body. His lips murmuring praises on her skin. Telling her how wonderful she was, how kind, how intelligent, how funny and loving she was. How his life was nothing but darkness until she came and shined her light into the abyss and found him, bringing him absolution.
He kneeled near her head, his muscular tan thighs tensed as he guided the head of his cock to her lax lips. “Come on kitten, want the cream?”
She raised an unimpressed brow but flicked the tip of her tongue against his slit. Her eyes gleeful as he hissed at the sensation. The thick vein on his shaft was next as she followed it down towards the wiry hairs before flattening her tongue and licking along the base. His hand cradled the back of her head, not guiding or commanding simply needing the contact to touch her as much as possible.
Her mouth was red and spit soaked by the time Gadreel was breathing harshly and had to pull her away. “Ashli, I want you to take it all.”
His eyes searched hers, the steel blue orbs commanding her to obey as honey dripped from his lips. “Don’t you want to be good for me?”
She nodded readily, “yes sir please, let me show you.”
The weight of his cock sat heavy on her tongue, the mixture of salt and sweetness was easy to swallow. The constriction against the thick long dick in her mouth made him shutter above her. The tension in his thighs were evidence to his mercy. He could have easily fucked himself down her throat, forced her to take his entire length into her wet and waiting mouth but his restraint was unwavering. She sucked and swallowed him, her eyes wide and inspiring as she looked up past the muscled plains of his body to his blissed out face.
“My good girl, oh my sweet girl I’m going to come.”
She relaxed her throat allowing him to come without gagging, simply taking him all. Her head was floating at the happiness of knowing she did what was asked of her.
“Such a good girl,” He cooed. “Close those pretty eyes, I want you to feel me. Let yourself float on the pleasure of my touch.”
Her lids drifted shut, as the world turned dark. Everything fell away until the only thing left was the feel of stubble rubbing against her inner thighs. The feel of a narrow tongue licking into her core. A mouth fastening over her and drinking her down. Her thighs squeezing against the head between them as her body wracked with pleasure. Fire shot through her every time her clit was touched. Pulses of need coursing inside her as she writhed and whimpered. Flicks to the over sensitive nub had her barreling ever closer to ecstasy but each time she reached near the threshold she was pulled back. A torturous push and pull of pleasure.
Her world narrowed and coldness deeper into where it had once burned when she felt him sit up. A keen whimper escaped her throat, but she kept her eyes closed. He shushed her soothingly, promising without a word. His knees pushed her legs further apart, the strength of them keeping her in place. A hand pinched her pussy lips closed pulling it outward, before she could complain his other hand came down and rubbed against her clit and pinched lips. She screamed as the orgasm barreled out of her. The sensation too much and yet not enough.
As she found her way back to earth, her throat sore from the piercing scream her eyes found his. His kind, ever-patient eyes look down into hers. As though he had all the time in the world, as though his cock was standing rigid and hard at attention. Pre-come dribbling down from the bulbous head until it dripped onto her.
“May I be inside you now Ashli?”
“You don’t have to ask. It’s always yes.” She rasped.
“To be inside you is a privilege and I do not take that honor lightly. I will not continue without your consent.”
She quickly gave her consent and he slid into her. Her body opened up for him as she felt the blunt head of his cock stretch it’s way inside her. She whimpered at the fullness after being empty for so long.
“It’s alright little one. I’ve already come once, I won’t be done with you for a long while yet.”
With that he snapped his hips fucking into her with a punishing pace, that left her fingers scrabbling against his sweat soaked back. Gadreel always knew how to take care of his sweet girl.
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mistressofsurgery · 4 years
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skincare routine overhaul
Background: I had quite severe cystic acne — fortunately I’m recovering and am transitioning from having to use mainly SPF + ointments and treatments to of a more “normal” skincare routine. I’m going to the US on vacation and want to do some not-too-crazy skincare shopping. Skin type: DRY. Sensitive. Biggest concerns: Hormonal breakouts during period/ovulation time Hyperpigmentation, redness Goals: Get rid of pesky scars, always be moisturised, decrease intensity of breakouts Climate: Hot, humid. Sun exposure +++ Requirements: $ Low-mid range                           Cruelty free                           Fragrance free (if possible)
- CLEANSER — finding the perfect AM and PM cleanser has been a lifelong disappointment for me. I recently made the switch from gel/foam (Tula probiotic facial foam cleanser, neutrogena grapefruit face wash) to oil (Innisfree rice water cleansing milk) cleansers because I thought it might help my dry skin. Turns out I like the feeling of having my epidermis scrubbed off more than having soft skin? Seriously though, there has to be a middle ground, I’m on my knees. I don’t want to change cleansers again for another five years. I now use the cleansing milk only to remove eye makeup, but she is a messy b.
- SUNSCREEN — I play tennis six days a week in the sun and I need something that will not be completely redundant before I even reach the courts. I realise that it’s imperative to reapply, but I find that some sunscreen formulations are too watery and therefore are gone before I’m even out of the house, or they leave white casts which I’m 100% not here for. Because of how sensitive my skin is, a lot of sunscreens also make my skin tingle/burn, depending on how crazy they are.
- MOISTURISER — the best moisturiser I have ever used in my entire life is the khadi sandal & olive cream with shea butter. It worked beautifully both AM and PM during the dryer/colder months, but heading into summer where it sometimes hits 40ºC here, my face becomes Sweat City. I can still use it at night, and it feels amazing to wake up in the morning with skin that just feels normal and not dry and itchy. But I need a daytime moisturiser that fulfils my dryness needs and still isn’t too greasy or heavy.
- SPOT TREATMENT — and I don’t mean pimple patches because the ones I get on my period are too powerful for those puny fools :( I have tried medicated benzoyl peroxide/adapalene ointments but it does my already dry + sometimes flaky skin no favours, even as a spot treatment. This is a major concern for me because even if I have a relatively decent skin day, right around the time of my period I’ll get a zit the size of a small planet on my chin and my life will be ruined. I think it’s unrealistic for me to expect fewer breakouts because it inevitably happens during a hormonal see-saw, but getting them under control and not having them on my face for a whole week would be super super awesome.
If you've made it this far, thank you, comrade. Help a girl get that glow back.
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purplesurveys · 3 years
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1045
surveys by lets-make-surveys 1 - What did you do to celebrate your last birthday? Did you get any decent gifts? Guh I honestly barely want to recognize my birthday this year because 2020 has been a huge waste of my time...but fine, I guess I’m 22. It had been during the peak of the quarantine/pandemic, so we had no choice but to stay home. I just played the Switch all morning, then I think I watched my dad play video games, and then Angela and Hans sent over a box of sushi to our place. Real chill day.
2 - What was the last “random act of kindness” you experienced? It was my first day at the office today and I had to go up and down the stairs several times to bring packages to delivery riders, since I had to send those out to certain people. A member of the maintenance staff in the area was super nice and offered to carry some of the boxes for me, since he saw how much I was struggling with the boxes.
3 - Have you ever “paid it forward” by putting money behind the counter somewhere so the next person can get a free coffee or similar? Not yet. I’d love to be able to do that soon.
4 - What caused the last injury that made you bleed? Was it a serious injury? I was trying to open a bottle of soju last night but the cap just would not budge. Next thing I knew my finger was already bleeding. Never got to drink my soju :(
5 - Who was the last person you spoke to on the phone? Are you close to that person at all? One of the delivery riders who took my package earlier. Bless his soul, he was very new to the delivering thing and I think I was his first-ever customer, and he kept asking for my help. I did my best for a while but eventually I had to tell him I genuinely did not know how to answer some of his questions as I wasn’t a driver myself.
6 - What was the last item you received in the mail? Something I had ordered online. It was the gift I’m planning to give my grandma for Christmas.
7 - When was the last time you received flowers? What kind were they? A year ago, I think. It was a single stem of a rose. We were saving up last year hahaha so I had gotten her a single stem as well.
8 - Are you a fan of salted caramel? What about other “odd” combinations like sea salt and chocolate or chilli and chocolate? Ooh, I didn’t know salted caramel was considered odd; it’s a pretty common flavor here and has even gotten more popular in the last few years. I like it as a flavor in desserts, like cupcakes with salted caramel frosting. When it comes to food, I’m generally open-minded and will try any combination that exists at least once; that said, chili and chocolate sound especially intriguing haha. I’ve only ever tried chili ice cream, which was delicious.
9 - Do you enjoy watching bloopers or outtakes from TV shows? If so, which series do you think has the funniest ones? Yes. Bloopers in general are great but it’s best when they come from shows that have a reputation for being more drama-heavy and serious - that said, Breaking Bad bloopers are the fucking best. ‘Bloopers’ from animated movies are hilarious too; they were always made so well too that as a kid, I legit thought the characters were actual actors as it never crossed my mind that animators would take the extra effort and time to make bloopers out of fictional characters and that they had to be real actors in some way lol.
10 - What’s your favourite dessert food? OMG macarons for the win. I’ve been craving them so much. Cheesecake is great too, and also cupcakes.
11 - Do you have any really dangerous wild animals where you live? Have you ever encountered any of them? Nope only stray dogs and cats, and probably some chickens somewhere.
12 - Have you ever dreamed of owning your own shop? What kind of thing would you like to sell? I’ve never dreamed of this; it’s never been a goal of mine and running a business doesn’t sound like my kind of thing.
13 - Are you a twin? If not, would you ever want to be a twin? If you are a twin, do you ever wish you weren’t? No. I’ve never really found myself wishing for it, either.
14 - Do you prefer wearing your hair straight or curly? Maybe just a little wavy. Definitely not in the extreme of either side of the spectrum.
15 - Would you ever want to go and visit the moon? If I had the chance and everything was paid for and stuff, hell yeah. It’d be cool to get to cross out one of my childhood bucket list items.
16 - What was the last hot drink you had? What about cold drink? Or alcoholic drink? My last hot drink was...probably the coffee I asked my mom to make last Friday, but I did wait it out until it was considerably cooler as I didn’t want to drink it hot. My last cold drink is the iced caramel macchiato I ordered tonight and still have with me at the moment. Then for alcoholic drink, I had soju mixed with Yakult about two weeks ago.
17 - Does anything on your body hurt or ache right now? My lower back, unsurprisingly. I also cut my right middle finger trying to open a soju bottle last week, andddd I gained a blister on my right foot today because of the shoes I picked to wear for work.
18 - When was the last time you struggled to get to sleep? Was there was a specific reason for that? I can’t remember exactly when, but it happened within the last week or the last two weeks. Sometimes I just drink too much coffee during the day that it affects how sleepy I’d ultimately feel at night.
19 - What three countries would you most like to visit? Morocco, India, and Thailand.
20 - Who’s your closest friend from another country? How did you come to meet this person? I don’t really have one anymore...I’ve grown apart from my internet friends from different countries a long time ago, and I also don’t tend to keep up friendships with my friends who’ve since migrated from the Philippines to another country. I suppose the one I’m on best terms with is Angel who migrated to Toronto around a decade ago; but I use ‘best’ very loosely as the most we do is comment on one another’s posts whenever we reach like a life accomplishment, like when we graduated college.
21 - When was the last time you had a cold? With everything going on in the news, did you worry that it was COVID? It’s been a while. I can’t remember; it was definitely pre-Covid.
22 - As of today (10th December, 2020) the COVID vaccine is being rolled out in the UK. Are you going to have it once it’s available to you (if it ever is)? A part of me is a little concerned because I know vaccines take years and sometimes even decades to be fully developed, but that doesn’t mean I don’t trust doctors and science. I very much do, of course. It’s just that I’d personally prefer to wait it out first to see if it’ll have any negative effects once rolled out on a massive scale.
23 - What are your favourite websites to browse when you’re bored? Wikipedia black holes are the way to go.
24 - Do you think people should have to pass a test in order to own pets? A local animal welfare NGO already does that; Nina had to go through several tests before she was allowed to adopt Arlee. There was a verbal interview, a written form she had to fill out, and a representative from the organization even visited our house to see if it was a suitable environment for Arlee; I’m sure there was a few more steps she was required to undergo. I certainly think it’s a good and responsible process. 
25 - When was the last time you fell asleep/had a nap during the day? Is this something that happens often? It’s been monthssssssssss. I don’t really take naps during the day anymore.
26 - Do you suffer/have you ever suffered with bad acne? What kind of things did you do to try and improve it? I’ve never had issues with acne and was always rather fortunate when it comes to my skin. I’ll have a pimple or two show up once or twice a year, but they go away within a week or so. Since I don’t want to jinx it, I just wash my face with water and I’ve never experimented with any skincare products ever.
27 - When you think about it, do you think it’s odd that we stop drinking human milk at a young age, but we happily drink milk from other species instead? Not really.
28 - How’s the weather where you are? Is this a good or a bad thing for you? These days it’s humid and hot during the day (as always), but now that it’s Christmas season the weather tends to plunge to like 24-26C during nighttime. I’d say the night part is good for me as I prefer being cold than hot, so I’m glad we’ll be having this weather until March at most.
29 - When was the last time you ate a pizza? What toppings did you get? Tuesday. Relatives came over then and my cousin got us pizzas. I don’t remember what toppings he got but both pizzas had stuffed crust in it.
30 - How often do you wear make-up? What kind of make-up do you wear? Wow, almost never. Gab used to put makeup on me but now that she’s gone, I don’t really see myself wearing makeup for the meantime as I definitely wouldn’t apply them onto myself. 
--
1 - If you have caffeine late in the day, does it cause you to struggle with your sleep? Eh, sometimes. Sometimes it’ll do what it’s supposed to and make me stay up for a while, but other times it doesn’t work and I’ll end up getting sleepy the same time I usually start feeling so.
2 - When you struggle to sleep, what do you do instead? Watching videos has eternally worked for me.
3 - Who was the last person you spoke to for the first time? How did you come to speak to this person? Hmm I met my co-workers Ysa and Bea for the first time today, if it counts. I’ve only ever talked to them through Viber since we’re on a WFH set-up, but we had to go to the office today to fix up some boxes that we needed to get delivered. But the last person that I really hadn’t met nor spoken to before was Jhomar, the company messenger who takes care of pickups for the day. 
4 - If you have a pet, have they ever embarrassed you in public or in front of friends or family members? What happened? Kimi is typically unfriendly towards strangers, so as cute and cuddly as he looks he would probably bite your finger off. I’ve had to explain that to guests who’ve felt puzzled about his demeanor. He’s my little baby though and I wouldn’t say he’s embarrassed me because of it. Cooper on the other hand is hyper-friendly to the point that he looks aggressive and it has scared some people away; in reality, he’s always SO pumped to meet anyone and everyone and can never contain his excitement haha. He’s literally the nicest dog.
5 - Do you leave the house every single day? I never leave the house, except if it’s to withdraw cash or go to the Starbucks drive through to pick up a coffee.
6 - Would you rather spend the day at the beach, or a day in the snow in the mountains? I would normally pick beach, but I think the mountains would be best for me at the moment.
7 - Do you prefer tops that are plain, or ones with patterns/logos/slogans? Plain.
8 - Are there any TV shows from your childhood that you still watch today? I’ll watch Spongebob every now and then. When I’m bored and have enough time on my hands I’ll sometimes watch other shows from my childhood just for that nostalgia wave, like Barney or Hannah Montana.
9 - How many texts would you say you send on an average day? Used to be hundreds, but now it’s probably like...5, on average. Sometimes I’ll need to text media for work and that’ll come up to around 15-20 texts but that happens only occasionally, like once every two weeks.
10 - Do you enjoy buying gifts for other people, or do you never know what to buy them? I never know what to buy for people. I like buying gifts for a significant other, though. I tend to spoil one to no end.
11 - Girls - if you get periods, do you suffer from period pain or any other horrible symptoms? I get the hormonal symptoms, but the physical symptoms are almost never there. My stomach will usually contract in a way that tells me it’s coming soon, but it never really aches. Most of the time, I just cry and mope a lot and that’s how I know it’s on its way, ha.
12 - The last time you were in a car, where you were travelling to? Were you the driver or a passenger? I was headed back home. but I came from the office. I was the driver as always.
13 - Who were you with the last time you went out for a meal? I took myself out on a date.
14 - What book do you wish they’d make into a film or TV series? The Septimus fucking Heap series, please. They’ve been trying to get it made into a movie series for years but as far as I know the talks have always fallen through.
15 - The age old question - do you prefer coke or pepsi? That’s a big ‘or’ for me. I don’t drink soda.
16 - What’s the last thing you watched on TV? Is this a programme you watch regularly? Bea took over the office TV earlier and she had it set to a BTS + Taylor Swift music video playlist so that we had background music while working. No, neither are my artists of choice, really.
17 - Do you have a favourite documentary subject (eg. nature, celebrities, history, crime)? Pro wrestling (a seriously underrated documentary subject) and crime. Documentaries on anthropological issues or discoveries are great as well. I do love history, but I prefer to absorb it in text/museum form.
18 - Do you prefer sweet or savoury snacks? What snack would you say is your overall favourite? Savoryyy. I get tired of sweet snacks pretty quickly. My current favorites to munch on are any salted egg flavored chips.
19 - Does having to wear a mask stop you from doing anything, just because you dislike them or find them uncomfortable? It can be harder to breathe and I get exhausted a lot faster with a mask on, but I keep it on because I would want to keep other people safe and because it’s so easy to keep a damn mask on.
20 - Do you prefer zip-up or overheard hoodies? Either is fine.
21 - If you have a yard or garden, how much time do you spend out there? I prefer the rooftop, and if I do go there I usually stay for a few hours during the evening just to have some time to myself. Being in a house with four adults can get pretty overwhelming and taxing sometimes.
22 - When was the last time someone bought you flowers? What was the occasion? I think it was for Valentine’s Day last year. If not, it was for the anniversary which was a week after Valentine’s Day.
23 - How often do you get takeaway? What’s your favourite thing to order? I don’t really do takeout. I usually dine-in or have food delivered to my place.
24 - Do you own a lot of clothing items in your favourite colour? What is your favourite colour, anyway? I don’t have a lot of clothes in pink. It’s not my best color, but I like it in everything else hahaha.
25 - When was the last time you stayed overnight away from home? Was this with friends, family or in a hotel somewhere? What was the occasion? Idk probably a sleepover at Gab’s place early this year.
26 - Would you ever be interested in seeing a live magic show? Sure. Magic shows are already a staple at kids’ birthday parties here, and I’ve always enjoyed them especially since magicians are quite the comedians too.
27 - What’s your favourite period to learn about in history? What got you interested in this particular era? I don’t have a favorite period per se but I’ve always had an affinity for the royalty. I like reading all about them, no matter what period they reigned or what house/country they’re from. Historians have kept impressive and super detailed accounts or records for most of them, so reading about their lives has also allowed me to learn more about the culture they lived through.
28 - Do you still use or carry cash, or do you pay for everything via card? I heavily rely on cash and I actually realized how behind I am just today, when Bea ordered lunch for the office. I paid her with cash and she looked at me all puzzled and was like, “Can you do bank transfer instead?” another big girl stuff I had to learn lol. Everyone in college used cash pls forgive me
29 - Are there any TV shows that remind you of your grandparents for some reason? Not really.
30 - Have you ever had to wear a tie for school or work? If not, do you know how to tie a tie without looking it up? I had a necktie as part of my uniform in my old school. I never knew how to tie it and always asked someone else to do it for me whenever it came loose.
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writeiolite · 3 years
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do i even have clear skin? i think not does that?!!?!!? no,,,
my skin is decent that's it, i only get pimples during periods and such but yee yee it's semi shiny ig 🤷🏽‍♀️ this is the only picture i have of myself that is not on snap so, that's what my skin looks like on a good day
this is me, with a blank face and cracked lips ksksnsnf
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PLEASE I ?!?2&1&2 I WANT TO HAVE CLEAR SKIN LIKE U WTFFF UR MAGIC. UR LITERALLY MAGIC. U N UR MAGIC GENES AIFJSJDJA blank face and cracked lips but u still look good like 😭😭😭 share sum with the rest of us juseyo 🤲
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irwintry · 5 years
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2% Milk
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Warnings: swearing
Author’s Note: sea bears
Word Count: 2.3k
part one two
Luke had never been this paranoid in his entire life.
Your words were short, your gaze no longer prolonged, and your tolerance with physical contact was growing thin day by day. You laughed at his jokes and smiled every time he walked in the room, but those lovely grins would falter as soon as his presence registered.
Luke felt sick to his stomach.
You were his. You had been his for nearly a year. He was yours. Even after you had gone back to school for your last year, he made sure to be there whenever you needed. He reminded you to take your pills on important days (just in case you forgot – he would never bug you about it in fear of it becoming bothersome), and he often dropped by whenever you felt exceptionally sad so he could give you a proper cuddle. Even if the journey took a few hours, it was always worth it to see you.
So now, his heart was in his feet at the thought of you no longer loving him. He had never loved anyone more.
Luke couldn’t believe there had been a time where he hated you. Even looking at you annoyed him, and now he still found himself lost in your eyes after dating for as long as you two had been. As cheesy as it sounded, they were his favorite color. He had given every part of himself to you throughout the past year, and he had never done that before to anyone, not even Mason. If Luke lost you, he’d lose himself, too.
It was a shame that was the truth. A person should never consistently rely on another for their happiness. You had become another half of him, so it was hard to deny that losing you would destroy him. He would never want you to feel guilty about the decision, even if it did tear him apart.
Commitment scared him. He knew of people his age getting married and settling down, and as bad as he wanted to do it one day, he didn’t know when he’d feel ready. He hadn’t been in a relationship as serious as this one with you, and he wasn’t sure he should be thinking about marriage so soon. Nevertheless, he was.
He pictured his life with you, and he’d smile. He envisioned the two of you in a white house with red shutters, a little boy and girl running through a sprinkler on the lawn. Years ago, if someone asked him what he wanted, he wouldn’t have told you the answer was a family. He never imagined settling down like that. He wanted to travel the world and live life as if there were no tomorrow. Now, he couldn’t picture living his life without you.
It was safe to say that Luke was terrified. You had never hesitated like this.
The front door to your parent’s home creaked slightly as he stepped through it. Your car was in the driveway, as was Mason’s. Luke expected to find the two of you in the living room playing Mario Party 12 on the Wii, but there was no excessive shouting coming from that direction. The TV was off, and the only sound he could hear was the distant murmur of two voices from the kitchen.
Luke hadn’t felt nerves like these since he played baseball in school. He dreaded batting – he preferred playing shortstop, but the team batting was always too good, so he never stayed in that position long enough.
He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. Truly, he wished he hadn’t.
You had been crying, and Mason – while usually very aloof when it came to any sort of emotion – was consoling you. From what Luke could guess, the conversation you were having with your brother was the reason you had started crying in the first place. It didn’t make sense to Luke at the beginning, and then he felt weightless in his boots.
He rested his forehead against the pale wall, eyes wide and watery as he attempted to steady his breathing. His hands were in fists on the wall beside his head, his fingernails cutting deep crescent indents into his skin. He couldn’t think. His brain was too muddled, and he couldn’t think.
You were pregnant. Pregnant. You were pregnant with a child. Most likely his child.
Luke swallowed and blinked a few times to let whatever tears had emerged fall onto the faux suede of his boots. Of all the times he thought about overcoming commitment, he never imagined it happening so soon. If he chose to be completely honest, no matter how many times he thought about it, he knew he would never be ready for the news.
He felt sick to his stomach. Every inch of him had numbed, and his limbs were no longer mobile as the conversation between you and Mason carried on. Luke tried his best to listen in despite his head losing focus every second.
“–not easy to even think about,” Mason said. “If you want me to tell him, I can.”
Luke’s ears perked, but his heartbeat was still too loud.
“Don’t... don’t do that,” you sputtered out through sniffs.
His heart ached. He wanted to stomp in there and press you tight against him until all worries faded away, but his touch wouldn’t help this time. At least he had an answer as to why you somewhat-removed yourself from him. He couldn’t imagine how heavy this felt in your chest. Every time you saw him, you were reminded that you were bearing his child.
Fuck, he thought.
But, what if it wasn’t his child?
Luke couldn’t think like that. He knew you wouldn’t cheat on him. If anything, you had room to believe he’d cheat on you. Though he never, ever would, but even you knew he had never been this dedicated to anyone before in his life.
“How would you do it?” Mason asked. His voice was calm, unlike what Luke’s would be if he were there.
There was a moment of silence. Luke pressed his palms flat against the cool wall and took a breath. It was shaky, but he had been holding it in for what felt like ages. Only a moment passed since he heard the news.
Suddenly, Luke felt so guilty. This was your news to tell, not his to overhear. He had to leave before he made any further mistakes.
“I don’t even think he wants to know,” you whispered, but he had heard.
Luke frowned, returning to his spot against the wall by the staircase.
“He’s– he’s never even talked about kids, s-so...”
“So?” Mason questioned.
“What if he doesn’t want it?”
Luke wiped his eyes and paced for a moment. Every tremor in your voice shattered his heart even more, he couldn’t take it. As much as he wanted to waltz in and say everything would be okay, he needed air. He needed to make sure he was okay before the day your reveal came.
And, he really, really hoped it would be soon.
-
Luke hadn’t seen you since he heard you talking with Mason that night a week ago. He pretended to be busy simply so he could sit on the news a little longer, but nothing helped. The two of you were so young, and you had been so careful. He couldn’t get over that part the most. He couldn’t remember what possibly went wrong one night a few weeks ago that brought the two of you to where you were now. He wasn’t angry at himself, and that scared him most of all.
The white house with red shutters consumed his mind when he wasn’t thinking about you. His smile was so big in his daydreams. He laughed while his kids danced in the damp grass, their tiny eyes brighter than his had ever been. It all felt so real now. This life was within reach if he just knocked on your front door – well, walked in (he hadn’t knocked in six years). He couldn’t keep avoiding you while he knew what he wanted. It wasn’t fair to you.
Besides, what if you didn’t want this?
Luke’s forehead had broken out in pimples because of the number of times he’d rested his hands up there. He could also blame the stress of this whole thing for making his skin cry so loud. With one long sigh, he reached for the keys to his bike and slung his jacket over his shoulder.
Ready or not, he needed to see you.
He walked in unannounced, his hands deep in his pockets as he rounded the corner into the living room. You had been balls deep in a film about two secretaries setting up their bosses when he walked in, your mouth wide open as you flung popcorn into it. Your hand froze in the air, the popcorn kernel hitting your shoulder on the way down. The air was too thick for Luke’s liking.
“H-hey,” you muttered as you scrambled to find the remote so you could pause the movie. “What’s... what’s up, Lu?”
He took a deep breath. What was he going to say?
“You’re sweaty,” you stated, standing up to greet him. Even then, you maintained a decent distance.
He nodded. “You scare me,” he whispered. He waited until confusion flooded your features before he continued. “You scare the fucking shit out of me. You know that? You like soy milk, but you drink 2% with your cereal. You hate watermelon, but you have three pairs of socks with watermelons on them. What’s the deal?”
“Luke, I’m– “
“You tell me you’re head over heels in love with me, then you suddenly start avoiding any contact with me.” Luke could no longer feel his fingers. Truth be told, he had no idea what he was saying. He couldn’t think straight when looking at you, so he simply just spoke. “Ya fucking terrify me, sweetie. So, what am I supposed to do, y’know? I’ve been sittin’ and makin’ myself sick over this. Every time you retract from a hug, I lose my goddamn mind. And– “
“Slow down.”
“I can’t... I can’t!”
“Please.” Your eyes were watery; he could tell you were thinking about spilling it all right then and there.
He shook his head. “I know– I’ve known... I-I know.”
“Know?” Your voice did not resemble your expression. You looked properly spooked. “Know what?”
“Baby.” Luke felt so pathetic.
“What?”
He couldn’t think a single coherent thought. “Do you want?” So, so pathetic.
You raised an eyebrow. “You’re confusing me, Lu.”
“Pr– “ He sucked in a breath and pressed his lips together. “Pregnant. Are you?” What, was he fucking Yoda? Luke wanted to hit himself.
The silence stung more than he expected it to. Your face had fallen, and the longer you waited to say anything, the more he wanted to make sure you would never frown again. Along with that, he began thinking of the many ways he could have addressed the situation much better than he had moments ago.
“How...” You sat down on the side of the couch, your eyes casting down towards the floor as you folded your arms. “How did you find out?”
It upset him how weak you sounded. He considered making a move to hug you now, but even then, he had no idea how you would take it. You appeared so fragile. It absolutely killed him.
“You– “ Luke took a breath. “You were with Mason the other night or something...”
Your mouth opened, and he could barely hear a soft “oh” come from your parted lips. “I’ve wanted to tell you,” you said. “I just... I needed to think I guess. I needed to convince myself that everything would be okay.” A tear fell down your cheek, but you wiped it away before Luke could reach out to wipe it himself. “Will it be okay?”
He nodded, taking a step towards you and flinching when he waited for you to move away. He took one more step when you inched towards him. “Sweetie,” he mumbled as he tugged on your waist.
You fell into him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders so you could hold him tight. “Sweetie,” you mocked. “’m scared.”
“Yeah?”
You nodded into his chest.
“Me too,” he replied. He raised a shaky hand to brush a few strands of hair away from your face. “I mean, what if the baby doesn’t like coffee?”
You smiled, and then your eyes widened. “You’re not... you want this?”
“Only if you do, sweetie,” he grinned. His brain was on fire. He felt sick, but he felt happy.
“I-I do,” you said. You reached a hand up to his cheek so you could bring him down to your level. The kiss you placed on his lips was soft and sweet, and it sent a swarm of butterflies to erupt in Luke’s stomach. “I-I’m just– wow, I-I’m so– “
Luke chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’m so lucky.”
“Yes, yeah, I was gonna say that.”
He laughed once more, spreading his fingers against your stomach as he gazed longingly at you. “So, are you really lactose intolerant? Like, what is the deal with the two gallons of 2% in your fridge?”
You groaned. “Can’t believe you’re going to be the father of our child.”
“Believe it, sweetie,” he sighed – happily, he would add. He was truly the happiest he had felt in ages. Even when he claimed he never felt happier when he was with you, he never knew he would feel like this. He was so, so in love with you, and now he was lucky enough to have a child with you. He was so happy.
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lordnochybaty · 5 years
Note
mcnozzo + 8
Unexpected filling of old prompts is unexpected but this fic was stuck on my drive for a while. :) Thank you for being my enabler and giving me prompts :*
Also on A03. :)
“Wait, you’re still playing the game?” McGee suddenly asked, as always focusing on what was totally not the point of the story.
In fact, it was barely in the story at all and if it was not an absolutely crucial part of the introduction, Tony would have skipped it altogether. For the integrity of his tale, he powered through and vaguely mentioned in the beginning while skillfully and speedily making his way to the point which was: he had cool friends.
And not only the ones back from the day! Oh no! New ones. He was making new friends. Outside of the office! And they. were. cool.
Fair enough Eliot was, technically speaking, just one friend and yes, okay, so Tony did meet him via the stupid game he started playing in the first place to prank McGee, but he was still cool.
“Occasionally!” admitted Tony and McGee squinted at him. “When I’m bored!”
McGee kept giving him a suspicious look so he caved: “Okay, fine, it’s sort of fun and painfully addictive and I’ve indulged a bit more when I was stuck home with a twisted ankle, okay?”
Some people said that the way to hide a lie was to tie it up with enough of the truth. That was one way. The other was to tie it up with plenty of other lies and letting people think they caught you easily. Throw them a bone. Burry your actual lies under ten tons of other lies. No one cares to dig that deep.
Certainly not McGee who turned away with a self-satisfied smirk.
Probably because he never rejoined the game after the whole Claire fiasco. Not that Tony was checking, because he wasn’t.
“Anyway, you were telling us how you went for a date with a geeky boy you met through a game,” reminded Abbie and Ziva snorted into her coffee.
Tony glared at Abbie and her bright smile. Why was she even in the bullpen? Didn’t she have anything to do in the lab? Sure, they didn’t have a case on, but this story-telling time was planned to let everyone know Tony had a varied social circle and was doing fine. It did not account for the extra level of sass from the Queen of Darkness.
“His name is Eliot,” Ziva supplied. “And he’s not a geek, he’s a firefighter.”
Her tone suggested she was mocking Tony but he clicked his fingers, pointing at her, acknowledging her point and also the fact that at least she was listening.
“Exactly! Thank you, Ziva!”
McGee frowned. “You do realize she did not negate the fact that it was a date, right?”
“She sure didn’t!” agreed Abby fast. “So? How was your date?”
“It wasn’t a date!”
“Wait, you actually met him?” Tim suddenly jumped in.
“Yes, that’s what this story is all about. Keep up, Mcconfused. Ziva accused me of not having any friends, and I contradicted her by starting this thrilling tale that got highly derailed, about a cool new friend I recently made, whose name is Eliot and who is a firefighter. I admit the way we first spoke was pretty nerdy, but we both have pretty decent excuses of being injured and bored at the time, so I’ve decided to let it slide.”
“And when you met him he turned out to be a 13-year-old pimpled nerd?” Tim asked hopefully.
“No, McSpoilFun. He turned out to be a super cool guy and we’ve had a blast and we’re going out to watch a game at the bar this week because unlike some judgy Mossad ladies, I do have friends.”
“I do have -”
“A dead marine to see, as you all do. Grab your gear!”
They all rushed away, jumping to comply with Gibbs’ order.
The case took their minds away from Tony’s new cool friend for few days until it was a week later and Tony was bored out of his skull and decided to log into the game for a bit.
After their meeting last night he expected a message from Eliot - and he got one because he was not the one to be ignored - but he never expected his very own Elflord to chat him up the moment he logged in.
elflord: wow, you really do play this game, huh?
Tony considered not replying, letting his dignified silence be the answer enough, but decided it would only backfire in the end.
claire69: I’m bored, probie. and slightly hungover. what can I say?
elflord: Rough night?
claire69: Eliot can drink me under the table. it does make him cooler, but also more painful to hang out with. also, my team lost :(
elflord: You really met this guy? elflord: twice?
claire69: told you already, probie
elflord: It’s just hard for me to believe you would meet someone while playing an online game. You always claim how nerdy it is and how there are no redeeming qualities for people who play it and then suddenly this guy supposedly hanged all the stars as far you’re concerned!
Tony frowned. Probie sounded really pissed about that, blowing it way out of proportion. Tony felt he should probably stop the conversation or derail it entirely, but as always he just could never resist an opportunity to poke his probie. Especially not when he already somehow accidentally managed to get under Tim’s skin. It was a compulsion, really.
claire69: Well, probie, he is also a firefighter. I think that makes him cooler than the game makes him nerdier. It’s a careful balance you see.
elflord: I AM AN NCIS AGENT!
claire69: …claire69: Really, since when?
elflord: Fuck you, tony
claire69: LANGUAGE, McSweary! claire69: seriously, why you’re so mad? are you jealous or something?
A few times an icon of typing showed up but no actual words and Tony bit his lip. He probably overplayed it waaay too much. He really should have backed off quietly, cover it all with jokes so they could move on.
Or he could press the issue like the hopeful moron that he was.
claire69: Why are you so jealous, McGreen?
elflord: God you’re such a painelflord: I guess, it’s just so annoying that you only ever see me as the nerdy, uncool friend but are happy to dismiss all nerdy things about this guy for some reason.
/ claire69: He actually only played the game while stuck at home with a broken leg. His friend recommended it. He’s not nerdier than I am, Probie. / Tony deleted his answer.
/ claire69: I do not just see you as a nerd. I let you in further than any / he deleted the last word / than other friends and / he deleted it all.
Tony scratched his unshaved chin. This was getting potentially sticky. The “you might still joke your way out of here and they might pretend to buy it, but you’re not going back to easy friendship ever again” kind of sticky. Been there, done that. Usually not worth the bother.
Usually.
claire69: Well, I never went out on a date with you. ;)
He stood up suddenly, walking away from the computer. He used a smiley face! Still could be a joke! Totally a joke! Hahaha, us dating, how funny is it, McGee, huh? How funny?! Hahaha! Oh dear god, he was so screwed.
He grabbed a beer from the fridge, ignoring the fact that it was way too early to start on that. Special circumstances and all that shit.
He sat back heavily before his computer, anxiously checking the chat window.
elflord: *eyeroll* You didn’t go on a date with Eliot.
Tony took a gulp of the beer.
“Remember Red, hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies,” he murmured, finding some comfort in a familiar game of finding the right movie quote even as his heart pounded nervously.
claire69: Nah, he’s painfully straight.
The pause was getting a bit long and Tony’s fingers took up the role of his usually rambling mouth.
claire69: Met his wife even. Kinda killed the mood.
He breathed carefully, drinking his beer and keeping his hands away from the keyboard. Stop digging your grave, DiNozzo, he thought firmly, it’s deep enough already. Suddenly he felt sick, the beer swishing unpleasantly in his empty stomach. He stood up slowly and made his way to the kitchen, pouring the beer into the sink and putting away the empty bottle. He pressed his forehead against the fridge and then thumped it a few times against the hard surface for a good measure. He was an absolute idiot.
He vaguely wondered if this will be the reason he will end up quitting NCIS. He already worked there way longer than he was usually able to stick with one jig. He was wondering what will finally make him crack. Until now his bet was more on getting a permanent brain damage from Gibbs’ headslaps than finally more openly flirting with McGee and creeping him the fuck out. Smooth, really smooth, he mocked himself. He should’ve saved himself some worry and just pass probie a note while in the bullpen “Hey, wanna break rule 12? Circle yes or no. xoxoxo, Tony.”
He dragged his feet back to the computer. From afar he saw Tim finally did reply and it was nothing really long. He sighed, sitting back and reading the message.
elflord: … Tony, would you go on a date with me?elflord: … Tony?
Tony realized he was grinning like a loon when the next, slightly lengthier message appeared.
elflord: Tony, I swear to god, if this is one of your pranks and you’re going to mock me for this, I will kill you. Abbie will help me. No one will find your body.
Tony chuckled and finally typed out his response.
claire69: Tonight at 7? claire69: I’ll pick you up. :*
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parasolids · 5 years
Text
took a walk today. i exited the building i’d just taken an exam in, and just kept going... and going... and going. 
i got duped into discussing christianity with this girl because she was tabling and i wanted free food, not knowing what i was getting myself into. it’s okay. she was nice. i’m not christian but we had common ground and honestly, in a world where my religious beliefs are politicized and demonized, it helped to find someone else who understood why i hang onto my faith.
i kept going. i walked clear off campus just going in a straight line, and then i turned because i didn’t know what else to do, and i went in another line. there were all these white petals floating in the wind like i was in an anime. i was alone but that was okay.
i kept going. i found a playground and there were a few kids clear across the playground so i figured it would be okay if i sat on the swing set for a bit. i hit play on a wonder years album and i flew through the air, really felt the wind on my skin, the swell in the end of cigarettes and saints. a few kids started to go to the swings. this dad showed up and started pushing his kid on the swing next to mine. i scraped my sneakers across the ground and ground to a halt, hoisted my bag back over my shoulder. 
i kept going. another straight line and before i knew it i was downtown, savoring being alone. i saw my reflection in store windows, my strange, expressionless face and bulky backpack staring back at me. i saw a soda shop and the concert venue advertising a show i might like in ten days. i ducked into an urban outfitters and looked at their records. there was some kind of pimple remover that said ‘love your imperfections’. not sure if i thought that was funny, or if i was just pissed. 
i hit play on my discover weekly and just listened as i walked. it was warm, slow, bittersweet acoustic music: reach by mat kerekes, hands by moving mountains. december by neck deep. daydreamer by trophy eyes. there was barely anyone out there and the sun poured over everything, light spilling over all the rooftops and sidewalks. an ice cream truck with the flattest tire i ever saw drove past me. it sounded like a skateboard on cobblestones. i wandered the nearly-empty sidewalks, feeling like i was alone in my head again. like i was in some sort of dream, maybe.
i kept going. in and out of the art gallery, where i saw a card so lovely it made me cry, and i wanted to buy it for my mom but it was kind of expensive and i couldn’t justify that kind of impulse purchase, and i think if i gave it to her she would be suspicious. there was a cat in the back, sleeping near the planners. i went back out and ducked into a back alley. i paced the length of the street, almost able to feel the sidewalk through the soles of my shoes. watched the storefronts go by. 
here is where you saw your first concert, when you were thirteen and you had to borrow your mom’s slide-out keyboard cell phone so you could get a ride home. here is where your friends kept inviting you to dinner last fall and you kept having to say no, until they eventually stopped asking. here is the restaurant your teammates went to after the first design review. you had to say no, again. here is the library where you grew up, and here is the tea house your dad used to take you to, when you were younger and you still had hope for the future and you still felt worthy of your parents’ love. oh, wait, they remodeled it and now the little fountain and the paper pokemon you used to love aren’t there anymore. here is where your favorite restaurant used to stand. you don’t even remember what food they had; your parents hated it, but you loved it to death. they closed it a year or two ago. there’s a new place in that space now, and it’s owned by a politician whose running mate wants you out of the country.
i kept going. the bubble tea was decent. i headed back up the hill and i was almost to the park when the waterworks hit.
well, i wasn’t about to just hike around campus sobbing, so i parked myself back on the swingset and it just got worse. have you ever been in a rainstorm where in a matter of seconds it goes from a drizzle to a downpour? that’s where i was. sitting there holding my tea, curled in on myself, gently pushing myself back and forth a little bit to soothe myself, which somehow only made the crying worse. here i am, a grown adult, just absolutely having a moment on a swingset on a playground. these parents walked past, pushing a stroller, and looked at me weird. these middle schoolers showed up while i was just beginning to clear up, and i hid behind my hair until i could pass as a normal person. i got up and i left. 
hiked up the hill, the flowers still in the air, wandered the maze of sidewalks behind my university campus. i found eel’s house, still crying, still breathing strange, and then i knew where i was. i kept going, up the sharp incline of the hill, passing by all the houses. all the people living their lives. i passed my friend’s dorm room window, three floors up and wide open. i wondered if they would recognize me from up there. i wanted to be a child again. i wanted a chocolate milk.
i kept going. i had class in half an hour. what else could i do?
i stumbled out from behind the dorms into this strange intersection that i’d seen before, but never in the spring. all the flowers were in full bloom and i looked out into the distance. saw roads and trees stretching out into forever, paths i might never take.
i walked to class and fell asleep in my seat. 
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yxksha-blog · 5 years
Text
About Yasha.
Suicidal Ideations Trigger Warning
Full disclosure, before anything else, that this muse is one that died of suicide in canon. I portray him as having... depends on the AU, and depends on if you’re doing DSM IV or DSM 5-- Depression or PTSD with very strong feelings of guilt, inadequacy, and other negative things. If these are triggers for anyone out there, this might not be the best muse to interact with. I personally don’t want to surprise anyone with this information mid-RP so I’m trying my best to be as upfront with it as possible. Of note, death by suicide is canon for Yasha. But other AU’s don’t follow the same trajectory. I have a lot of AUs where he gets his medications, where he gets better, where he gets to have a beautiful family, where he gets to grow old and have aching knees and a full life.
x.X.x
Others mentioned below are general constants for Yasha in most AUs:
> Is a medical professional in some way
> Usually in modern AUs he’s a pediatrician. In all verses, he’s generally good with kids
> He doesn’t think he’s particularly good at his field, but all his colleagues will tell you that he’s amazing at what he does
> HE IS A STRAIGHT UP NERD. Like-- do you want to discuss what sort of antibiotic best fits your personality kind of nerd. (His is Amoxicillin by the way. nice, everyone knows it, few bad side effects, good for most outpatient cases)
> Is a vegetarian. Eats eggs for his complete essential amino acids. Is not strict-- especially if people prepare a lovely meal that has no vegetable-only dishes. He won’t mention being a vegetarian then and is more likely to just eat whetever is on the table because he doesn’t want to make anyone feel bad.
> He doesn’t drink alcohol on a regular basis. Would happily be the designated driver for the evening. Does not handle alcohol in large amounts well.
> LOVES SPICY FOODS. They are the best. That is all.
> Is able to do pretty much all sorts of house work-- from cleaning, to laundry, to cooking, to sewing decent clothes. He can technically do all of that. Except some days when he just came from 36 hours of duty, he just falls asleep and wakes up. Has forgotten to clean the room, or make dinner... or lunch for that matter.
> Somehow manages to have smooth pimple free skin for most of his teenage years. Never gets the muscle bulk most of his peers did. Generally low sex drive. Blame the low androgens I guess?
> Is generally mild mannered, nice, thoughtful person who is always polite
> Can switch that to a still polite face with a nice smile, but an aura that says the fastest way to a person’s heart is through the left 5th intercostal space, midclavicular line, and I will not hesitate to use that knowledge if you continue to talk shit about someone I love
> If there’s something besides health care that he’s very passionate about, it is child trafficking. Child welfare. He usually deals with these cases and works closely with the Child Protection Unit.
> Is asexual. Is usually an awkward bean when people are talking about their sex lives or who is cute and would just nod whenever he’s asked for his opinion. Yes, everyone looks wonderful tonight.
> @mita-rashi is the love of his life. In any AU where Anko exists and they meet, he will eventually marry her, and have 3-4 amazing children with her. He is absolutely in love with her, and it always shows.
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doodle--writes · 6 years
Text
Movie Night- Richie Tozier X Reader
Words: 3,729 Warnings: Cursing, Bodily Injury, Blood, Clowns Summary: You had the best day of your summer. You had swam at the Quarry with your friends but you didn't want the fun to end. So you and Richie went to the movies to try to make the night last a little bit longer. Yet that happiness faded once the theater doors shut behind you and left you inside with a monster. _____
It had been one of those days of summer, the one that you would never forget even if you tried. That feeling of the sun slowly darkening, or more like reddening, your skin, the feel of the cool water pressed against you like a never-ending embrace, and the sensation of laughing and smiling so much your face hurt.
It was the day you had conquered the Quarry. You stood on top of that ledge along with the five boys whose names you would leave behind in the small town of Derry: Eddie Kaspbrak, Stanley Uris, Bill Denbrough, Richie "Trashmouth" Tozier, and as well as Ben Hanscom.
They were having a contest to spit loogies as they stood their in their underwear. Uninterested in spitting snot, you walked around the edge of the cliff in your underwear and a t-shirt, seeing if there were any low spots to jump from, or maybe a rope swing. After all, you and the boys were going to jump, or at least were planning to.
"Hey Y/N, get your ass over here!"
You jumped, nearly losing your balance into the shrubs, but you caught yourself. "Richie, give me a little warning next time?"
"H-how can he warn y-you i-i-if y-y-y-y-"
"If his first yell scared you," Eddie finished. He didn't particularly enjoy cutting Bill off, but it was better than seeing him stumble over his words like a gasping fish on a hook.
"You boys always gang up on me, it's unfair." Your fingers dug themselves into the side of your shirt as you began to pout.
"Don't matter none! Just get over here and give us a loogie." Richie pushed his glasses up and beckoned you over once again.
You sighed and jogged over, taking your spot by Richie. You had an opportunity and, boy, you were going to take it.
Yeah, you would shove him in. Sure it was a long fall to the water, but you had seen Richie in water. At least he did better than a doggy paddle.
Suddenly, all the boys had turned towards where you came up onto the overlook and a new voice had joined as well: Beverly Marsh. She had stripped down to get underwear, no shirt to cover it up, and she ran and jumped into the blue-green abyss below.
"Holy fucking shit." You stared at her as she resurfaced, and dropped your jaw. That girl had some real balls on her.
All the boys muttered that they couldn't back out now because a girl had done it. That implied that they didn't think you would have done it.
Suddenly, you walked away from the ledge, roughly four and a half Scottish ells. With a quick turn of your heel, you were facing the water once again. You took a deep breath. If the boys didn't think you were going to do it, you were going to prove them wrong.
Your feet were moving, your mind was screaming, and that scream became real as you were in a free drop over the water.
The air was forceful on the way down, yet the slowness was like the falling of the first leaf of the season.
Finally, you made impact. The water felt like a dome around you just long enough for you to see without registering before it had collapsed around you.
Through open eyes you could see the depths of the water. Even if you had taken your deepest breath and swam down as far as you could, you wouldn't even reach the bottom.
You saw the bursts of bubbles as new feet broke through the water's surface and the ripples pulled you closer to the top.
Your lungs welcomed the air as you broke the top. You pushed your hair out of your face, an action you would repeat each time you peeked out of the water.
Yet once everyone was in the water, games began. All of it just felt natural as you found yourself hoisted onto Ben's shoulders. You squealed, "Ben!" You laughed as you wobbled on his shoulders. "Put me down!"
"Dunk her!" came from yards away where Richie, Bill, and Eddie were at. Of course Richie had wanted to dunk you.
"Hey trashmouth!" You gave him the bird.
Bill meanwhile imitated your squeal, although his sounded more like a banshee, and Eddie was a shrill hyena, cracking up at Bill's impression.
"Shut the hell up Denbrough!" You shouted at him, but in a moment you found yourself once again under the water.
When you rose, you knew a war had begun. You splashed Richie, who yelped much like you, and it turned into a chain. Richie splashed Bill; Bill splashed Bev; Bev took aim at Eddie; lastly, Eddie sought his revenge unto Ben.
All of you sat there, catching breath from the laughter.
That whole afternoon was laughter. Even looking back upon it at the past-ripe age forty, you could feel your stomach hurt from all the deep-bellied laughs.
By the time of two, all of you trekked back up the dirt path above the water. Bev laid out, a blanket beneath her and music plugged into her ears. You took your time up, so you found the boys staring at her bathing in the light.
You chuckled before walking over to Bev, tapping a cluster of freckles. She pushed her glasses back, hair with it, curling over the cheap metal frames. "Yeah Y/N/N?"
You were taken back for a moment. Sure, you'd known the boys for ages and had friends, but no one had ever really given you a nickname, except for Richie of course.
"Hello? You still there Y/N?"
"Oh, um, yeah! May I lay out with you?" You fumbled through the words, embarrassed and anxious. She just smiled and turned the blanket horizontally so there was enough room for the two of you to lay side by side.
Both of you found yourselves dozing off and all the while, the boys continued looking. Ben and Eddie's mothers would undoubtedly throw a fits if they knew what their little boys were up to. Bill's and Richie's father's would have been comedically proud of their sons for growing up and being able to enjoy "the view".
As for you and Beverly; your parents would be ashamed at the least. Yo our parents were strict by no means but no parent would be happy about boys seeing their daughter in underwear. Yet Bev's father would manage to be worse. Much worse.
By the time you had gotten your fill of sun, it was nearly four. All of you were dressed, standing next to your bikes. All of you knew you had to go, but no one wanted to leave. No one wanted that day to end.
Eddie was the first, knowing that if he wasn't back by four on the dot, his mother would send the swat team after him. Ben followed, knowing his mom was cooking dinner and if he wasn't home, he may as well be missing in her mind. Beverly also knew that she better hurry, but the look in her eyes when she said she had to go- it was glossy, reserved. She was hiding in those eyes. Bill seemed to note it too, because he offered to ride her to her street corner. She obliged.
All that were left were you and Rich. Neither of you really wanted to go home, so you both sat there, gripping your handlebars, kicking dirt. That was when an idea struck you. "Heya Richie?"
He looked up, back in his chicken-wire and scotch tape glasses. "Yeah?"
"Wanna go see a movie? I got tickets if you can scrounge up a couple quarters for popcorn."
Instead of his normal class clown type of smile, he had a sincere one and nodded. "Yeah, let's go. I heard the new Indiana Jones is playing tonight!"
Suddenly, it was almost as if no one left. You and Richie mounted your bikes, racing down hills swerving through pre-curfew and post-work traffic.
Sure, cars honked and people cursed as you and Richie sped by, but you two were nothing compared to Bill, who would push going 35 miles per hour if he wanted. No one knew how that boy did it.
You and Richie stashed your bikes in the alleyway next to the theater, which was barely wide enough to fit you and your bike. When you walked in, you saw one of the high school juniors you knew. They were your go-to for tickets.
So, it was a breeze to get in and find yourselves with movie tickets in hand.
"So Y/N, how about you go get some of the good seats for us and I'll stand in line for the buttery nuts."
"Richie, never call it that again for everything good and holy. Also, it's a kernel, not a nut."
"I don't give a shit what it is, but look at that line!" Richie gestured over to the concession line, and he wasn't being dramatic. Both sides were curling around.
"Yeah, I'll go grab that seat," you sighed.
In moments, you were walking down halls, looking for the correct auditorium. "6... 6... 6..." you repeated to yourself. The halls didn't make sense. You had passed 1-2 and 3-4, but no 5-7. "Whoever designed this place needs a major tutoring session on decent floor plans," you muttered.
Finally, you spotted five. Then seven and at the very end of the hall, all by itself, six. Some delinquent must've thought they were hilarious, adding two sixes afterwards.
You opened the door, immediately feeling goose pimples rise along your arms. Maybe they had turned up the A.C. up a little too high.
You shook your head and walked to your seat, setting a single foot on Richie's to save it. That's when you realized, you were the only one inside. That was a little odd to say the least. Of course, it could've been because the movie was over a month old so most people had seen it and it was a shock that it hadn't been moved over to the cheap seats the next town over.
You decided that your reasoning was feasible enough, so you looked to the screen. It was on and bright, but no trailers or opening credits played. No cartoons dancing across the screen or the national anthem. It was just blank.
"That's... odd," you softly told yourself. Just as you said so, music began to play. It was music from the circus. It was soft, but most definitely there. Then, a red balloon appeared on screen. It was just barely inching closer to the center, like a breeze held it. Maybe they got rid of the dancing hot dogs, soda and the national anthem for that. Although, you didn't think it would be a very big hit. After all, New Englanders loved their anthem as much as their churches.
You turned your head towards the door. It had been a few minutes since you had seen Richie and you weren't exactly enjoying being alone in the auditorium.
You stood, making your way to one of the doors. You pushed, but it didn't budge. '"Huh?" There was no handle to pull.
Maybe the other door would work. You turned back towards the screen, but the balloon was no longer on the screen. No, a balloon just like it was sitting in front of the white. You wanted nothing to do with it, so you climbed and scrambled over seats to get to the other side of the auditorium.
You took a moment, hands on your knees, to catch your breath. Except, on your hand, you felt something light drag across the surface. Hesitantly, you looked next to you and saw the red balloon.
You hadn't noticed until then that it said I ♡ DERRY across it in big white letters. Chills slid down your back and the overwhelming smell of dirt and moisture and rot filled your nose with enough force to make someone with a weak stomach blow chunks.
You tried to take a step back, but the balloon followed and it drifted right in front of your face. Unknowingly, you clenched your eyes shut, but heard a voice follow.
"Y/N, sweetie, c'mon, open it."
"But I don't want a baby brother!"
"Y/N, it's not a baby. That's not exactly how it works."
You slowly opened your eyes to see a home video on the movie screen. You could see the shake of the camera as your mom struggled to focus it on you.
In the video, you were eight. You remembered it like yesterday with your little keds, overalls, and rainbow shirt. You looked like a boy. You reached up, taking a lock of hair in your hand. It used to be so short.
Videotape-you finally opened the gigantic box sitting in front of her. Inside wasn't a little brother like she had expected, but a bicycle. It was painted a minty color with black accents.
Your eight year old self cried just from looking at it while your mother's camera shook. "Sweetie, do you not like it?!"
You only clung to it and continued crying.
Suddenly, the clip changed. The film was black so you could only read that it was January 1st, 1986. Your face flushed, suddenly remembering what that day was.
You could hear your mother giggling as she made your father knock on the bathroom door, asking which parent you had wanted to give the talk.
"Go away! I already know! Richie told me!"
You had completely forgotten about that. Richie had been the one to tell you what exactly puberty was. You supposed it was from his experience reading his dad's magazines and catching glimpses at the ones in the gas station by the local pub.
The tape showed your dad awkwardly setting a bag on the floor, containing feminine products as well as some of your favorite sweets.
The video shifted once again. It was a view of your street in the summer following. It showed you and the boys bundled up in knee pads and holding sticks out at each other. That was the joust you had done.
You and Richie were against Eddie and Bill. Your voice was somewhat muffled underneath all the 'armor'.
"The last alive wins one point for their team and two points for themself. We got eight rounds, and the person with the highest wins. Got it, boys?"
Various confirmations came from the boys and the joust had begun.
The footage had jumped forward a bit, the boys and their bikes dramatically laying around you as you gloated.
One last time, the tape had flickered to something new, but you couldn't recognize exactly what. You saw yourself and Richie, standing in the middle of the road.
It was raining, maybe a little past eight o'clock judging by the light. You two were yards apart, both with clenched fists and enough anger to create steam.
"I fucking hate you! You hear that? I fucking hate you! If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be so miserable!"
Richie screamed the words, his hands shaking as he stared at the ground. Puddles were beginning to form.
"You hate me? The feeling is mutual, bud! I'm not the only one either! Do you really think anyone likes you? Bill only hangs out with you because you're a walking punching bag! Eddie? You talk enough for the both of you! Stan doesn't even like you! He doesn't try to hide it, either! All he does is bicker at you! I don't blame him! You were a fucking mistake!"
The screen had gone black.
Within the darkness, you sniffed and felt boiling tears slide down your cheeks. You wouldn't ever do that to Richie. You couldn't.
You needed air. You turned to the door and tried to force it open but to no avail. Instead, that smell of decay came back to you.
Light came from your back and the screen was once again white. On it was a face; no regular face, but that of a cakey white with a painted red smile.
"Pop, pop, pop! Pop goes the p-puh-popcorn!"
Something about the clown's voice made your stomach tie itself into a knot. You didn't dare turn away from the screen, but you moved yourself back, pressing all of your weight against the door. Still, it wouldn't budge.
"Oh Y/N, don't you want some pop, popping, popcorn?"
By that point, you screamed. How did it know your name? What was going on?
You turned to the door, pushing and pulling, ramming and kicking. "Richie! Richie please! Richie help!"
No response came. All you could hear was a terrible ripping noise as you looked behind you to see the clown. Only, it wasn't normal; it nearly looked mutilated. The body was twisted every which way, the eyes were scarlet, and the mouth was stretched. The bottom jaw hit the ground, but the space between it and the top were filled with rows upon rows of teeth.
"Fuck, Richie!"
It was coming towards you, humming your name. It wasn't going fast. It was going slow just to torment you, give you longer to think about how you could be brutally murdered any moment.
At last, the door gave in. You began to fall forward, and the creature leapt for your leg.
As your chest hit the ground, you felt tens of razor teeth break the skin of your leg. You resisted the urge to scream, knowing it would only increase the creature's drive to make you suffer.
You yanked your leg out of his mouth, feeling the tearing of tissue and the crack of bone, screeching.
Your other leg, seemingly with a mind of its own, kicked the doors shut.
Groaning, whimpering, sobbing, you dragged yourself away from the door. Blood was already staining the carpet.
"Holy fuck, Y/N!"
Suddenly, you heard a carton of popcorn hit the floor and Richie was holding your shoulders. He wasn't sure what to do. His mind was racing back and forth between your sobs, your leg, the amount of blood, wondering what in the holy hell happened and that you needed help.
"Y/N, I got you." He turned his head andf yelled, "help! We need help! Help!" He turned back to you, begging to know what happened to you, but you were hysterical. It was no use.
Later on you wouldn't be able to remember the whole crowd around you, buzzing with what happened. You wouldn't remember the ambulance arriving, Richie never leaving your side the whole time. You wouldn't remember that the theater was closed for the week, under investigation.
Your tickets were investigated and proven to be false. There was never a showing of any movie within auditorium six because it had been under renovations for months.
The junior who gave you tickets was fired. He was sent to a juvenile detention center just two towns over.
Inside of the unused screening room, authorities found a stash of old hunting as well as construction equipment. There was a dull bear trap with fresh blood. Its blades were later proven to have the same shape as the cuts along your leg.
Your parents demanded a lawsuit against the theater and immediate investigation over the tools discovered.
It was a week after the incident and you were in a cast. Doctors had said that the cast would become a normal part of life for you. Everything below the bite had gone numb, paralyzed. For the rest of your life, you would have to wear a special boot for it.
You sat on your porch, staring at the hunk of plaster around your leg. It was covered in white and held nothing but an extra large sock to cover your toes.
"Y/N?"
You looked up to see Richie. You tried your best to smile. "Hi Rich."
He tried to return the half-smile as he took a seat next to you. He hadn't tried to mention the incident since the day it happened. The police had explained things the best they could, but it just wasn't quite right.
"So, what happened that night?"
You looked away from Richie, to your cast, and up to the sky. You had faced the music; no one would believe your mental story. Even you weren't sure if it was real.
It felt so real.
"You wouldn't believe me." You shook your head.
"You're talking to the dude who thought all dicks are uncut."
You managed to snort at that remark and laid your head on his shoulder. Maybe if you could just sit there for a minute, you could find a way to sound less insane.
You chose your words carefully. "There was a person in there. I don't know how they got in there or escaped, but he was there. He tried to trap me, kill me." You hesitated for a moment. "And he was dressed like a clown."
Richie made a face like he was uncomfortable. "I have to tell you something. Why I haven't been around for the past few weeks."
He raised his palm and showed you the scar in the center.
"This is from an oath I took with the others. For years a clown motherfucker has been haunting Derry. I saw it. Bill saw it. Stan, Eddie, Bev, Ben, Mike, all of us. We tried to kill it and I don't know if it really worked or not. So we swore if things kick back up in 27 years, we're coming back to kill it for real."
What Richie told you was a lot to take in, but you believed every word. You nodded. "I want to come back too. If all of that is true, it's no coincidence I survived. I survived like all of you. I want to help you take that thing." You held out your hand to make him swear on it.
He hesitated but took your hand and shook it. "I won't let you get hurt again."
But Richie was deathly wrong. Come 27 years time and you would be more hurt than any hospital would fix.
21 notes · View notes
tokkionline · 3 years
Note
yes exactly omg !! like i don’t mind if people wear foundation like u do u but i’m also Very aware of the fact that the only reason i ever started wearing makeup....was to cover up my acne. which in turn only made it worse :/ i hate how society as a whole essentially says if u have acne well....😬 as if it’s not super normal ! tiktok lowkey is so toxic without us even realizing it half the time i kept seeing those 20 step skincare routines and thinking my dermatologist prescribed routine wasn’t “good enough” or whatever and i hate how it always made me feel (and seeing all the comments praising these people didn’t really help yk) nd same w the sensitive skin i wanna try the things these tiktokers are recommending even tho i know they’ll make me break out or that it’s not even good for ur skin at all i honestly had to delete tiktok bc it’s so influential on these things but on a subconscious level which can be sometimes damaging imo anyway yea
sensitive skin SUUUCKS tbh im trying out a new cleanser right now and like. i cant tell if its making me break out or if school stress is making me break out LMAO ig i gotta give it a few weeks but i try my best to not care too much abt it. im trying very very hard to love my bare face but yeah as you said tiktok and other social media do not make it easy oh my god. same goes for media tbh like in shows and movies acne is portrayed in suuuuuch a negative way im just waiting for a protag who doesn’t care abt their pimples :^) 
im SO sorry that you felt the need to cover up your acne with foundation :(( honestly i have such a love/hate relationship with foundation SNDNFN some of them can be soooo heavy and won’t help ur skin at all but i think i found?? a decent one?? idk i still wear it like. once every blue moon ansdnf
and honestly like. ppl sharing their skincare routines always makes me go ansndnf bc like i appreciate the fact you’re recommending products but skin is different for everyone. what works for you could HATE my skin. but you can still get influenced by these videos and be pushed to buy the product only because you saw someone recommending it. social media’s power can be scary sometimes NSNDNF
well i got carried away AGAIN but this topic is just. v important to me. i had a lot of self esteem issues that often revolved around my appearance and i just hate the thought that other people might feel the same. we just have to enjoy ourselves and do our thing, with the makeup and skincare products WE love
0 notes
evanthenerd83 · 6 years
Text
Blood And Ink: The Other Notes
It’s been a while since I last posted an update and the situation hasn’t improved. You guys and girls and ghouls should know why. Even if you just recently found this blog, you’ve probably seen the posts, the photos, and the glitched out text.
It isn’t exactly subtle in its goal. It hasn’t tried to hide from you all. It knows that you’re reading this and won’t stop drawing attention to itself until I do what it wants.
And I’ll get to that later.
So, here I am.
I didn’t use my laptop for a week after reading the second note. I kept it behind the bookshelf, unplugged and turned off. It wasn’t because of the note itself, though. I understood what it meant and while it was definitely unnerving, it didn’t really bother me that much. Something about my stories has inoculated me against real life oddities. Write enough stories featuring the paranormal and you get used to weirdness.
My autism might have helped, too. I tend to adapt easily to a schedule, especially at school, and I will ignore any difference present in the environment.
Of course, I might just be speculating. Or exaggerating. Or lying. I know how ridiculous that sounds, but I don’t have a better explanation.
Anyway, it wasn’t the note that unnerved me, but the fact that something had used my laptop without me knowing. That it knew me. My hobby. That it could communicate with me. And that it could leave me notes.
There was also the subject of whether it would leave me another one or not. I had no clue.
What could it do?
Could there be another note waiting for me?
I would stare at the bookshelf and the spine of my laptop. A part of me itched to turn it on while another was screaming at me to take a hammer to it. But I couldn’t really destroy it. Not without getting into trouble at least. My reluctance to satisfy my curiosity grew with each passing day.
I eventually started to make excuses. I had to work. I had to study for the EOCT in Economics. There were too many things I had to do. The week passed by fairly quickly though.
Finally, the break came around and I had no excuse.
The Thing started to move here. When I posted an update explaining how I had been taking a break from writing due to school, several letters were emboldened. They spelled something out. The word “lies”.
I didn’t know how to react to its assertion and decided to ignore it. But someone sent me an anon message. I got the notification on my phone.
“Are you okay?”
Once again, I brushed it off. I lied and said that I was fine.
In fact, I posted a selfie saying so.
A couple of minutes passed before I got another notification. Another anon message.
“What’s with the sickly photo?”
I opened the Tumblr app and came face to face with myself. A selfie that had been distorted to the point where I could make out each and every pimple in crystal clear detail. Shadow clouded. Gray. And underneath it were the words, “IM FiNE Im FIne iM fINe IM FINE IM FINE IM FINE IM FINE”, accompanied by a few tags.
“I’m fine”.
“Nothing to worry about”.
“Don’t worry about me”.
“Don’t you trust me?”
The Thing was taunting me. It knew that I was lying to you guys and wanted me to be ashamed. And its attempts were working. I felt sick to my stomach.
I was raised in a Christian household and I’ve always been told to tell the truth, lest I’d be damned to Hell. It worked for a while. But as you should already know, I lied about the weird text posts. And I kept on lying.
Another notification. Another anon message asking me about my health, this time a lot more reactionary. Some social justice warrior called me a heartless and disgusting person and threatened to report me to Staff. I assumed that someone who had suffered from depression had read one of my more graphic stories and been offended. I checked my blog.
But when I saw the post, I felt my heart drop into my lower intestine. The Thing hadn’t posted a picture. It had posted some text. I braced myself for what I could only assume was a demand.
It was worse than that.
“i did it. i opened my skin for the first time and it was excruciating. but it was also fun. pulling out my Bones and severing veins and siLencing my screaming nerves. this must be hOw he feels. this is wrOng though. i shoulDn’t be hurting myself for such An occasioN, no matter how exciting. but i’m just so happy. he’s starteD wrItiNg again.”
I wanted to scream after I read it. I wanted to die. The Thing was glorifying self harm and had decided to post its musings onto Tumblr, of all places. And it had done so on my blog.
My confusion turned into panic as I scrambled to throw out a decent apology. I brushed it off as a joke. A terrible, terrible joke. I knew that was another lie, but I had to do something to not be crucified by the hoards of SJWs who were knocking on my front door. It worked and nobody even noticed the tasteless portrayal of such a sensitive subject. I was relieved. For the moment.
I went into the post’s available options. I meant to select the delete option, but the screen flickered and I accidentally reblogged it. I had to issue another apology.
The Thing wasn’t done yet. It took me a while to notice them, but there were words in bold that were hidden in my apologies. The first contained “check the” and the second held “laptop”. Put those together and you get: “Check the laptop”.
Check the laptop.
My laptop.
It wanted me to check my laptop. I glanced at my bookshelf and shuddered when I saw the silver spine poking out of the darkness, just where I had left it. The rational part of my mind was in a screaming match with my curiosity. This could’ve been a trick. Another ploy to get my attention. But at the same time, it could’ve been a honest request.
My curiosity won in the end and I reluctantly pulled it out. Dust had settled around its screen and the battery was dangerously low, about twenty percent. I didn’t plug it up though. Didn’t really care.
It worked fine enough.
A familiar feeling raised its ugly head as I opened Notepad. It had been weeks since I read the notes, but I could still remember how uncomfortable they made me feel. The Thing knew a lot about me. It knew things that were meant to be private. It must have been stalking me.
There was a new file folder in Notepad. There wasn’t a title and it didn’t appear to be that big. Just a couple of gigabytes. I opened the file, coming face to face with six documents. Two of those documents were the first notes I had read. I scrolled down to check if the first notes had been deleted or just simply transferred or copied, but I couldn’t find the originals.
The third document was titled “I’m Sorry”. From the information displayed, it was created a day after I had hidden my laptop. My fear almost won the argument. All of the shock and confusion from earlier returned as a fire. But it was already too late for self preservation. I opened it.
“You’ve been gone for quite a while now, Evan. Is everything okay?
I’m sorry for making you upset. I shouldn’t have pushed you so far. You needed some time to get back into the groove. You weren’t ready. Hiatuses can be hard. I can respect that.
But you can’t just leave me alone.
Not like that.
You didn’t even respond.
Just understand.
I need you.”
The fourth was titled “Why”. It had been created a week ago. A very short note.
“Was it something I said? Why would you keep me like this?”
The fifth was titled “Remember Me”. Created six hours earlier.
“Did you forget about me?
Hm?
I’m sure you didn’t. You couldn’t have.
But I can’t shake the feeling.
Maybe I need to jog your memory.”
It was obvious what it meant. It had posted about self-harm in order to get my attention. All its other attempts had failed and it knew enough about Tumblr to fire a warning shot. And that strategy had worked.
I had denied its authenticity and accidentally reblogged it. Reacted to it. Surely, that was what it wanted from me.
But there was still one more note.
The sixth note was titled “Everything”. Created an hour before I had decided to check on my laptop.
“I hate you.
I've tried everything. Everything.
It doesn’t matter how many notes I write. You still haven’t realized how much it hurts.
You probably think that you can just stop and I’d no longer exist. Well too bad. I’m not going anywhere.
So what will it take to get you to write again?”
To write again.
I swallowed some spit. As soon as I read those words, everything clicked. Made sense.
It didn’t just want my attention. It didn’t just want me to respond to its constant inquiries and notes. It wanted me to write again. It was waiting for me to come up with another story or poem. All this time, after everything it had put me through for the last month, it wanted that?
I exited out of the document and closed the file folder. My head started to hurt.
I created a new document, stared at it, and typed a single word. A question.
“Why?”
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