Tumgik
#not even going to think about how he was able to wake up from his RSA Ortho dream
chilschuck · 3 days
Note
beach day headcanons please (any characters you’d like)!!! we were deprived of the typical anime fanservice imo
`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ ohhhhhh my gosh anon i was literally SO SO HAPPY to get this ask!!! decided to stick with the usual charas you guys enjoy, plus some falin!!! hope this turned out okay and thank you so much for having me write it for you!!! <333
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— DUNMESHI BEACH DAY HCS.
꒰ charas: ꒱ laios, chilchuck, falin, & mickbell.
꒰ warnings: ꒱ none! sfw + fluff with gn!reader.
꒰ wc: ꒱ 1.4k
✦ hope this turned out okay!! it was such a cute idea and so much fun that if anyone has requests for more charas, i’d be more than happy to do it!! <33
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— LAIOS:
✦ We know that he doesn’t do well in hot weather, so you can imagine he’d be sporting only swimsuit trunks and flip flops for sure.
✦ Definitely enjoys being in the ocean, especially to try and cool off. You can imagine he’d be really interested in knowing more about what’s in the water around him, and probably points things out to you that he finds interesting.
✦ Be prepared for him to burn really fast, so make sure he gets plenty of sunscreen!! It’s always cute to see him walk up to you and ask for help, in which you gladly oblige. You help get those spots he can’t reach, and he does appreciate just how thorough you are.
✦ You’ll probably end up splashing him, which he’ll return in kind. Be careful what you start, because you’ll end up drenched by the end of it!
✦ A picnic on the beach with him is definitely something that happens while you’re there. Laios is so excited to share a meal with you in such a beautiful setting, and finds himself giving you that goofy grin at just how happy he is. He makes sure to pull all the stops to make this enjoyable for you, even preparing your favorite snacks.
✦ Definitely goes home with a few shells or shark teeth, if he found any. Laios thinks they’re too cool not to pick up and examine, running over to you and showing you what he found in the sand.
“You won’t believe what I found!” Laios calls out to you, jogging over to where you sat on your towel. His hands cradled something, and as he stretched his arms out to show you, a smile grew on your lips.
In his hands was an almost perfect conch shell, something he held with pride and excitement. His smile matching yours, he said your name softly. “Do you think if you put it up to your ear, you’d hear the ocean like those stories?”
You shrugged your shoulders, not able to hold back the giggle at his glee. “Only one way to find out, right? Just make sure there’s nothing still living in it.”
Laios still keeps that shell in a safe place, wanting to remember the day you spent together.
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— CHILCHUCK:
✦ This man is definitely showing up in a Hawaiian dad shirt and cargo shorts. The first few buttons are undone, and he has a pair of sandals on that he insists he only saves for days like this.
✦ Chilchuck plans on staying at the spot you claimed with towels and an umbrella, a drink in hand. He’s definitely enjoying the sight of you in a swimsuit and the breeze ruffling your hair, but he’d never admit that.
✦ You try to pull him towards the water, but you only manage to get his feet wet. Chil tells you this is as far as he’ll go, but that disappointed pout on your face makes his heart race a bit. Ok, fine… Maybe he’ll go up to his knees for you…
✦ Probably spends most of his time drinking and relaxing, a hand behind his head and alcohol in the other. Very dad-like of him, you muse, which causes his face to heat up and grumbles to leave him.
✦ Ends up falling asleep, the sound of the waves and the secluded shade from the sun causing his eyes to flutter shut. You can’t help but laugh a little, returning from your time in the water to study his sleeping form. He looks so peaceful like this, and you don’t have the heart to wake him up…
✦ If you do somehow manage to get him fully in the water, be prepared for him to get targeted by the tide. Maybe you even suggest getting him a float, which he gives you that blank stare in reply.
“There, that’s not so bad, is it?” You say as he finds himself in the middle of a tube float, eyes narrowed towards you.
“This makes me feel like a kid.” Chilchuck complains, yet you see him grip onto it tighter as an incoming wave makes an appearance.
You pull it over to you, the inflatable bumping into your stomach as you give him that teasing grin. “Guess you’re stuck with me while we’re out here, huh?”
The half-foot groans, debating on whether or not he’d make it if he tried to swim back to shore right now.
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— FALIN:
✦ Wears a light t-shirt and shorts, opting to be comfy! She also has a hat she wears to help keep the sun out of her eyes. If she did plan on swimming, I like to imagine she’d have a swim shirt and a one piece swimsuit!
✦ Like her brother, she was excited to see all the shells and creatures at the beach, bringing you things she found fascinating. You might even find her entranced with a sand dollar and stating how pretty it is.
✦ Walks into the water hand in hand with you, but also really enjoys walking along the sand near the shore. As the sun sets, she intertwines her fingers with yours, leading you along and watching the pinks and blues in the sky reflect on the waves.
✦ Also definitely goes on a picnic with you, the beach making her cheeks even more rosy than usual. You can’t help but tell her how cute she looks in her outfit, her hair loosely blowing in the breeze. Falin would give you a sweet smile, the same one you fell in love with.
✦ Don’t be surprised if she leads you back to the water after you make sure she’s not getting burnt, insisting that she wants to enjoy how cool the waves feel. You’re more than happy to walk out a little deeper with her, noticing how she still keeps your hand in her own.
“It’s so nice out here…” You heard her mutter, a content smile dimpling her cheeks. The sunset left a sweet gradient in her hair, something that made you unable to look away.
“It really is. Too bad it’s getting dark,” you reply, a little disappointed that the day is already over. Falin squeezed your hand, pulling you away from your thoughts.
“Maybe we should stay and watch the stars come out.” Her voice was so gentle, causing you to give her a grin of your own.
“Let’s stay a little longer.”
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— MICKBELL:
✦ Like the official art we have of him swimming with Kuro, he’s definitely sporting a pair of swim trunks and flip flops, with his hair in his signature ponytail.
✦ He and Kuro are so excited to swim, and drag you along to the water as soon as you get there. Of course, Mick is either clinging to you or to Kuro when in the waves, not seeking to really swim on his own.
✦ You definitely enjoy watching them swim and play around more than you’d like to admit, especially with Mick hiding his face and complaining when Kuro decides to shake all the water out of his coat.
✦ Mick really likes finding shells he thinks look neat, and showing them off to you and Kuro proudly. Maybe you even find yourself building a sand castle, with him and his buddy watching closely and moving to help you. He’s in charge of decorating it, while you’re in charge of building it! Kuro helps dig up some of the sand to use.
✦ The three of you end up getting a sweet treat, cooling off in the shade and enjoying the time spent together. Knowing Mickbell, he’s going to lay his head in your lap as he rests after so much activity, looking up at you with that cheeky grin he usually has.
“I could get used to this!” Mickbell sighs, nuzzling into your lap as he makes himself comfortable. Kuro is watching the waves, sitting beside you as the sun begins to fade from the horizon.
“I would’ve thought you’d be ready to go home a lot sooner.” You teased him, brushing his messy bangs out of his face. Scoffing, he made sure you saw as he rolled his eyes.
“If I didn’t have you and Kuro, maybe… But this is something we’ll have to do again. Right, Kuro?” The Kobold nodded, causing a warm grin to spread on your face. He was certainly right about that.
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Text
Insomnia
AN: Sixth and final fic for @moonknight-events' MK Bingo! I wish I'd been able to do the entire board like I wanted but alas. Hope you all enjoy! Thank you to @whatthefishh for looking this over for me ❤️
Steven can't sleep and you, uh, help him out.
(Un-beta’d)
Rated: M+ (this is smut so, you've been warned) Prompt: Handjobs Words: 1,233 Pairing: Steven Grant x GN!Reader (pretty sure this could be read as GN, please let me know if that's incorrect) Warnings: handjob (as the prompt indicates lol), cursing, kissing, mild biting, praise kink, sub!Steven, please let me know if I missed anything. AO3
——————
Steven can’t sleep. 
He’s tried everything he can think of, his usual tried and true methods (and even some of the old ones), but none of them have worked. 
He chews his lip, glancing over to where you’re asleep beside him. You look so relaxed, so peaceful, your lovely lips quirked in a slight smile. He wonders what you’re dreaming about (was it him?)...wishes he could be dreaming too. The urge to wake you is strong, you’ve told him before that he can when this happens, but he just can’t bring himself to disturb you. 
Steven sighs, turning over on his side. He closes his eyes and wills himself to sleep. 
That doesn’t work either. 
He tosses and turns, trying to find a comfortable position, one that will finally allow him to fall into the blissful depths of sleep but, no matter what he does, nothing helps. He feels even worse when you begin to stir beside him, whining softly as you’re unwillingly pulled back to consciousness. He stills, trying not to move (or even breathe) in the hopes that you’ll fall back into the abyss. 
“Steven?” you ask, voice still thick with sleep. 
He waits silently for a moment, then sighs, turning slightly to look at you over his shoulder. 
“So sorry, love, I didn’t mean to wake you.” 
“S’okay,” you slur, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. 
You push yourself up into a sitting position, eyes meeting his in the darkness as you reach out to gently push the curls back from his forehead. “Trouble sleeping again?” 
Steven nods, his eyelids fluttering at your touch. 
“How can I help?”  
He smiles tiredly at you. “Not sure you can, love.” 
You stick your bottom lip out in a pout and he chuckles softly, reaching out to thumb at it. “S’alright, I’ll be fine. You should go back to sleep though.” 
You shake your head, settling your back against the headboard. “I won’t be able to sleep knowing you’re awake beside me.” 
With a resigned sigh, Steven sits up to join you. 
“I’m so sorry, love,” he says again, taking your hand in his and squeezing it lightly. 
You shush him, effectively dismissing his apologies. “Nothing to be sorry for.” 
Steven just sighs again, his shoulder pressed against yours as he idly runs his thumb over your knuckles. You sit in silence for a moment, just watching him, the meager light in the room softening his sharper features. 
Then it dawns on you, how you can help. 
You lean in slowly, tilting your head to get the right angle. He doesn’t notice how close you are until you’re right there, inches away from his face, and before he can protest, you press your lips to his. Immediately, he melts, his free hand reaching up to cup your cheek. You start slow, soft, the pressure gentle, the pace unhurried. After a moment, you brush your tongue along the seam of his lips, his low groan sending a shiver through your body. He’s always so responsive, your Steven, whether it’s a moan or a simple flutter of his eyelashes, he always lets you know how you’re making him feel. 
You kiss him deeper, languidly licking into his mouth, your fingers clenching in the fabric of his t-shirt as his tongue slides against yours. For a moment, you let yourself get lost in it, in him, in the taste of him, the feel of him—but then you remember why you started this, remember that he needs you. You relax your fingers, allowing your hand to slip slowly down his chest, over his belly, coming to settle at his waist. Your fingers briefly toy with the band of his sleep pants before slipping beneath them and his boxers. 
Steven breaks your kiss with a surprised yelp as you take him in your hand, his breath leaving him in a sharp gasp as you begin to gently work your hand over his length. You shush him, whispering soothing words into his skin as you kiss him wherever your lips can reach.
“Oh fuck,” he breathes, involuntarily arching into your touch. 
You respond with a whispered plea for him to relax, your thumb sliding over the velvety tip of him, dragging the prettiest moan from his lips. He stops resisting then, losing himself in the pleasure of your touch, rewarding you on every stroke with breathy sighs and groans. 
“So good for me, Steven,” you whisper, the praise drawing a whimper from between his lips. 
You smile at the sound, tracing his collarbones with the tip of your tongue as you twist your wrist just so, dragging another delicious sound from him. He pushes up into your fist, his fingers twisting in the bedding beneath him. You move back up his neck, nipping briefly at his jugular and soothing the area with your tongue. Beside you, Steven’s breathing is erratic, his skin hot, hips thrusting in time with the stroke of your hand. You pull back to gaze at him, admiring his mussed curls, kiss-bitten lips, and glassy eyes—he always was beautiful in the throes. 
You lean in again, sealing your lips over a spot on his neck. He keens when you suck, your hand gently squeezing his cock to mimic the pressure. You move your hand a little faster, increasing the friction, and his breath hitches, hands now fisted in the sheets beneath him. 
“Darling,” he pants, his neck tense with the effort of holding himself back. 
You shush him again, pulling back to meet his gaze. He’s close, so close, his big brown eyes pleading—for you, for your love, for your permission. 
You pull your bottom lip between your teeth as you watch him, eyes flickering over his face, drinking him in as your touch pushes him closer and closer to the edge. When you’ve teased him enough, you lean in, nuzzling your nose against his ear. 
“Come for me, Steven.” 
And he does, his body going rigid, as he erupts all over your fist with a choked moan. You keep working him, his body twitching as the pleasure rolls through him. When he finally stills, you release him, whispering your praise as you press a kiss to the hinge of his jaw. He’s absolutely wrecked when you pull back, body limp against the headboard, panting like he’s just run a marathon. You smile at him softly, pushing the curls from his damp forehead with your clean hand before slipping off the bed to get a washcloth. 
Once you’ve cleaned both yourself and him up, you settle back in the bed beside him. For a moment, you wonder if he’s already asleep, his eyes closed, breathing (finally) even. He stirs at the movement beside him though, his eyelids heavy as he opens them and smiles at you dreamily. 
“Your turn, Love,” he slurs, reaching out for you despite his inability to keep his eyes open for more than 3 seconds. 
You chuckle softly, shaking your head as you lean in to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Sleep, Steven.” 
“But—” 
“Sleep,” you insist, yawning as you pull him down with you beneath the blankets. 
Steven grunts in protest, but doesn’t stop you, his eyes already falling shut again as you snuggle against his side. You smile as his breathing evens out again, the gentle rhythm of it lulling you back to sleep.
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harmonicakai · 3 days
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I Bet on Losing Dogs
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Pairing: Beomgyu x Reader
Summary: Your insecurities get the best of you and you abandon your relationship with Beomgyu in the worst way possible.
Tropes: friends with benefits, angst, college AU, band AU
Word Count: 1.3k
Warnings: mentions of sex (mdni), emotional unavailability, slut shaming, no happy ending :-(
A/N: This is SAD because I am currently sad and also I didn’t bother to edit it. Apologies in advance to the Beomgyu biased readers bc I know this is not what anybody asked for </3
“You disappeared Like a faint ghost I bury it in the air What am I to you?” —Ghosting, TXT
You’re a horrible person.
Really, you should’ve broken things off with Beomgyu before they even began. It’s never a good idea to be friends with benefits with somebody you actually like. 
You do your best to distract yourself from confessing your love to him by sleeping with other guys. What started bright and electric between the two of you has fizzled with each encounter, his touch now feeling dull and hollow on your skin.
So, when you wake up next to him after a movie night, your stomach drops when you see the marks he’s left on your neck. Everybody will know what you get up to, if they haven’t already been gossiping about it behind your back.
There’s a numbness to the way you slip out of his apartment without so much as a goodbye. If you had woken him up, he would’ve noticed the sad look on your face and canceled all of his plans to spend the day making you feel better.
You don’t deserve his friendship, let alone his love, although he's only confessed the latter when he thinks you’re asleep and can’t hear him. Or, sometimes Huening Kai will let it slip how much Beomgyu talks about you when they’re away.
The walk home is brutal. You’re even wearing the jacket he’s refused to let you give back to him, knowing that if you had left it behind, he’d surely know something was wrong.
When he notices you’re gone, he shoots you a text about Merriam-Webster’s word of the day. Beomgyu has never cared for linguistics, but he knows you’re a real nerd about this kind of stuff. You decide not to reply.
Things would be much easier if you could just disappear out of his life, but the two of you have become so intertwined that it’s impossible. All of your friends are his friends.
Before him, you were just some quiet girl who shrunk away in the back of the classroom. After getting paired up and reading the poetry you managed to dream up, Beomgyu knew he had to get to know you more.
For most guys, the way he acts with you would come off as desperate. But he’s so earnest in his admiration for you and your talent that there’s simply no way he could possibly be faking it.
The first time you had gotten together was an honest mistake. You had been dumped, again, and he was there for you. It seems like he always is every time another man decides you aren’t worth his time.
It’s not that you don't love him. You do, as much as you’re able to. But you know that if you actually took things to the next level and they didn’t work out, it would break you entirely.
Still, is ghosting him without any sort of reason or explanation any better?
With finals in full swing, you know you’ve got the perfect excuse to be distant for a while. It’s the summertime that you’re worried about. Beomgyu has made sure to include you in every plan of his that he thinks you’d like, sometimes even arranging entire days around you in between his band’s schedules.
Really, the easiest way out is to start dating someone else. It always makes Beomgyu shrink further away from you to know that you will consistently pick someone else over him, although he’s secretly satisfied when things inevitably go sour. He hates knowing that the only thing that drives you into his arms is being rejected by somebody else, but he wants you too much to care.
The two of you talk about everything except how you feel about him, and he knows that he isn’t entitled to any of your emotions. You’ve made it clear from the start that you’re never going to be able to reciprocate in the way that he’d like for you to.
You weren’t always like this. At the start of college, you came in with the idea that you’d fall in love and have your happily ever after. But years of being used for your body and consequently dumped without reason has ripped your heart off your sleeve.
The way Beomgyu worships the ground you walk on makes no sense. You hate yourself. Maybe he just wants something to fix, and once you finally open up to him, he’ll leave you just like everybody else.
The thought makes no sense knowing him, but it’s the driving force in never confessing how you actually feel. So, you offer up yourself physically in the hopes that it’s enough, but it always leaves you feeling empty inside afterward. No amount of kisses or compliments will probably ever change that.
Among his bandmates, you’re closest to Yeonjun. He’s the only one who knows that you love Beomgyu just as much, maybe even more, than he loves you. 
It was revealed through a drunken confession at a frat party the weekend Beomgyu went home for his mom’s birthday, where you immediately got embarrassed and proceeded to go home with the first guy who gave you any sort of attention.
Meaningless sex is really the only way you can get off these days, but the act always leaves you feeling worse than feeling nothing at all with Beomgyu. But if you’re never going to be good enough, pure enough, to truly deserve him, then what’s the harm in another hook up?
You know that every time he finds out you've been with somebody else, you’re breaking his heart. It’s just that there’s so much love from him to go around that it never actually makes a difference in how he treats you. He has the biggest heart you’ve ever seen and you don’t even have the decency to not trample all over it.
You wonder if everybody else also agrees that you’re not good enough for him. They’re so nice whenever you’re around, but you’ve seen men turn into monsters behind your back. For your sake, you try not to think about anybody else's opinion besides Beomgyu’s, but even those thoughts weigh heavy on your shoulders.
After a few days of not returning his texts, he finally musters up the courage to call you. Before you can pick up, your phone sends him to voicemail, and you know that’ll be enough of a sign for him to leave you alone.
It isn’t until you run into him dropping off your poetry final in the writing department’s office that he truly sees what’s become of you.
You haven’t slept properly in days, and you barely eat. Your eyes are constantly puffy from crying all the time, and today is no different. Seeing you like this devastates him.
“Y/N,” he says, his voice shaky and barely above a whisper. He’s got his hand wrapped around your wrist to keep you from running away. His demand for an explanation on where you’ve been and why is stuck inside his throat, and instead, only sobs come out of his mouth.
Beomgyu never cries, and watching as he tries to hide the tears running down his face reminds you that he must be hurting just as much as you are. You want so badly to hold him and apologize, but all you do is stare.
Eventually, he manages to collect himself as much as he can, taking in the irreparable damage you’ve caused one last time.
“Here,” he says, digging in his backpack and handing you a stapled stack of papers. It’s his final project. “I’ll go print another. I want you to read these. Please, promise me you’ll read them.”
You accept the papers, your eyes skimming over the lines of poetry on the first page. It's about you. You flip through the rest of the stack. They're all about you.
It takes everything in you not to start crying too, although you’re so exhausted that you don’t think anything would even come out at this point.
“I promise,” you assure him, although neither of you know if you’re telling the truth.
—————-
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deepsix-writing · 2 days
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coming to terms with godhood.
(a jack nichols aka ‘eyeless jack’ story)
the birth of a god is a painful thing. it feels like dying, more than anything. you’d think, after people having worshipped deities for so long, they’d warn you about how excruciating it is to become one. but they don’t.
that was something jack nichols had learned through firsthand experience. recently, in fact. but the worst thing, for him, wasn’t learning to readjust; it felt like all of his senses had been fundamentally rearranged, but that wasn’t what bothered him most. what bothered him most was the trail of bodies it left in his wake.
“burn in hell. ALL of you.” he remembered the words birthing into the open air, but not saying them himself. but he did remember pulling the mask over his face, and he did remember leaving a bloody jenny to die in the forest alone. he remembered kicking away her pleading hands as they pawed at his ankle, her last chance of making contact with her reborn god. only it didn’t feel like jack’s voice, coming out of him. it came from some place far deeper than his chest, and it gushed from his lips like the tar that leaked from his eyes. when he finally scrambled back to civilization, hastily stuffing himself into the nearest gas station bathroom to avoid prying eyes, he puked his guts out. it was an ultimately futile attempt to get that noxious tar out of his body.
it was poisoning him, he was certain. it felt like it coated every inch of his insides, holding back the air in his lungs and turning the food in his stomach to bile. he didn’t want to look in the mirror. he didn’t want to see the state of himself, what those people had done to him, but he needed to know.
he wished he hadn’t looked. because when he did, he didn't recognize what he saw.
beneath the mask, crusted with black tar, festered two black pits where his eyes once were. he was mesmerized by the fact he wasn’t doubled over with the pain of it all. thinking about it, he was just as mesmerized by something else, too.
how am i able to see right now?
it was something that hadn’t even occurred to him until now.
sight of chernobog, some rogue thought interjected. then, it came back to him. that was what the cultists had said when they gouged out his eyes and replaced them with…
i should not be as calm as i am, reflecting on this.
jack never had been the emotional type, but this was really pushing it. it was like that tar that covered his insides had dampened his emotions, too.
...or maybe he was just denying himself the time to truly reflect on it. a part of him felt if he did that, he might never get back on his feet again. he’d curl up in a ball and crystalize, and years down the line he’d be nothing but dust.
jack didn’t want that. it was like the mountain climbers he’d read about in one of his medical textbooks. he just needed to learn to acclimate to the change in altitude. this could be okay.
how to acclimate, however… that was a tough one. he couldn’t do it around people though, he knew that much. he needed to be somewhere isolated, somewhere he could collect his thoughts and keep anyone else from getting—
go back to the college, his thoughts interjected again. you don’t know what its like to be truly alone. you don’t want that.
jack blinked, but shrugged it off. in the gas station bathroom’s sink he washed his hair, matted with blood, and made certain to wash off any blood that pooled on the porcelain when he was done. he took the mask, cast aside amidst his previous puking session, and slipped it back on. he slipped the hood of his jacket up over it to hide his wet hair, too, and took one final look in the mirror.
it was months from Halloween. there was no way anyone was going to look at him and think ‘yep, that’s normal’. in fact, jack was pretty sure he’d already gotten a horrified look from a lady filling up her tank before he’d darted into the bathroom.
his only hope was going to be finding somewhere secluded to figure all of this out. maybe, when all was said and done with, he could make up the assignments for the last of his classes online. he was pretty sure west point had a program for that.
his uncle had a cabin in some backwoods area nearby, he knew. jack remembered when he was a kid, him, his parents, and his cousins would all stay there during the holidays. his uncle had a different house he lived in, too, so chances were, the place was empty.
and, it was only a few dozen miles north, if he remembered correctly. he was on the track team back in high-school. it wouldn't be easy, but it would be managable.
it was the best shot he had at figuring this all out.
it would have to work.
whatever it was that had happened with the cult, whatever it was that they did to jack, it would all be a distant memory in a few years. it wouldn’t get in the way of his medical degree, and it sure as hell wouldn’t get in the way of his life.
right?
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coffe-and-tea-time · 2 days
Note
KEEP PRETENDING TO SLEEP! KEEP PRETENDING TO SLEEP!!!
HEHEHEHEHEHE I WAS WAITING TO COOK THIS
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Coffee insanely speaking! Thanks Dear, you gimme the perfect excuse to write a second part just in time although I expected the option of talking to him to come first. Not that I'm complaining lol
Post where this suggestion came from
↪︎ ☾ I love to see you ....................................... .......................................☆ I love to hear you↩︎
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TW: yandere behavior, delusions, murder of self-preservation, stalking, obssesion, somewhat willing reader, kinda denying of bad decisions
Of course, the best option is to stay still, not because you are enjoying this no no, of course not...
Despite his soft voice that sounds rather familiar, you can't really recall who or where. So the safest option is just giving in at the moment, you didn't know how he could react so the safer the better, isn't it?
A smile starts creeping on your face against your will, seems like you are a rather bad actor when it's required, huh? 
“Oh, I'm really glad, you seem like you're finally having a good dream… will it be too greedy if I want to be inside that little dream of yours? Well, if you find that greedy, you won't be able to handle me later”
Hearing a close mouthed giggle following the whisper makes your heart flutter softly, like this is some kind of really romantic scene in his mind. You were able to hear the faint sound of footsteps, he seems like he's doing a little room tour, making it a little hard to hear him.
“Oh Dear, you were researching that thing again?”
It seems like he found his way into your phone, what was he referring to?
“Why do you keep reading so much about romance? Are these words good enough to keep your focus?... Maybe I have to start practicing oral expression? It's been a while since I felt like that, last time was when you downloaded that stupid dating sim… This is truly irritating, the names they use, the way they ‘communicate’ to you; do no justice, I can express myself way better, my love, and how my eyes change when I see you walking by… just... please, I need only one chance, and I promise you won't have a room left for doubts”
Even though he made the effort to lower his voice in order to 'not wake you up', it's clear how his tone is changing with every word depending on the topic; First, a low hint of infatuation, then, what sounds closer to a plead and, finally,...was that...hopelessness?
Honestly, in a normal situation, you would be annoyed by someone searching through your phone but only an idiot would think this man would judge you even if you had pictures of dead people there, more like he's genuinely looking for more of you, despite the fact that it's really not the ‘proper’ way, you can't say it didn't work.
“My beloved Cherry, what can i do for you to talk to me? Those characters seem to steal your attention quickly… I would be lying if I sad I'm not a little hopeful because of them though, you seem to have quite the specific taste, Cherry, and I believe I fit perfectly on them... if only I could find the right moment to get into your routine, to be part of your life…”
Weird that he worries about getting to talk to you with an ideal scene but not worrying about stalking you, but maybe it's kind of understable? Since well, everyone likes to check on their crush on social media even if they take a while to actually talk, even if this guy took it a little too far, he sounds... harmless like his wish is just to win your affection…
wait a second…
Are you truly relaxed in this kind of situation? What is going on with you? Why? Why… well, can't say you didn't ask for this, even as a joke, you know this time is different because it's real, but… why does reality feel like a fantasy right now? Is it because of him?
“Huh, I come here as a routine by now, I still get the same queries, I’m dying to find the answers soon..”
Sensing that lightly sweet fragrance once more makes you know he’s approaching your ‘sleeping’ form once again, making it easy to hear him despite his constant whispering.
“Would you let me cuddle you? Would you let me kiss you? Would you mind if I were clingy? Would you mind if I get jealous? Would you mind if it seems like I already know more about you than I should? I want to hold you my dear, I can’t wait for the day I can just snuggle with you every time we want… I really can’t wait anymore, I need to be closer to you… I guess I have no option other than to talk to you out of the blue, I dislike to be so imprudent, but I promise I will make up for it once you accept me in your life, Love”
You feel a gentle hand slightly caress your cheek as a little peck is placed on your forehead, making you almost smile like a fool if it weren’t for the fact that pretending to sleep is your priority in this sweet moment, unexpected but called for moment.
“Sweet dreams Cherry, I have to prepare what I should say tomorrow, I will put all of my efforts to be my best self to make a good first impression, I hope I snatch enough of your interest to be on your mind even for a moment”
Oh, he is definitely gonna be stuck in your mind for a while, as you try your best to focus on the sounds, you catch his steps as he seems to walk away… but you keep up with your act just in case.
So, tomorrow, huh? Seems like once again you have important decisions in your hand, should you indulge in your fantasy and let him get near you? It also sounds fun to go to him first… But, maybe you should try to avoid him? It’s the safer choice, but do you really want that? He seems safe enough not to raise any of your flags, he seemed so caring for you…
sorry for any misspellings or weird sentence structure ❣
images from pinterest
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heaven-s-black-box · 2 days
Text
Vulnerability- Aventurine x male!Reader
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Recovery date: April 29th, 2024
Description: Hello sorry if this is a bad time, but I was wondering if you could make a story where the reader is male and comes from an extremely endangered species that is capable of having a child with a partner of the same gender, and he's kind of like Black Swan's apprentice, and went to Penacony with her but he ends up bumping into his ex Aventurine, the reader left him because he had a couple mental issues he needed to work out but he still cares about Aventurine and just doesn't know what to say to him.
Notes: This work was recovered in conjunction with an anonymous researcher, we thank them for their contributions. I couldn't really work in the "being able to have a child with someone of the same gender" but otherwise I think this came out really well.
Word count: 1 031
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Black Swan is a bitch.
That’s Y/n’s opinion as he catches a glimpse of soft golden hair and a gaudy green suit across the bar. The memokeeper had sent her darling apprentice to get them some drinks. She could feign ignorance, but Y/n watched her look over at the bar before sending him. He knows this was intentional, but he won’t let her lead him like she leads everyone else.
Seriously, he’d been under the impression that memokeepers were simply supposed to observe, why was she so intent on meddling with his life?
“One sweetened mood and one prolonged sunrise, from the man in the green suit,” the bartender nodded over her shoulder before he could ask about the second drink.
Y/n bit their tongue and tried to hold back a scowl.
“Thank you.”
He picked up the sweetened mood and brought it back to Black Swan.
“You forgot your drink,” Black Swan hummed, taking her drink from Y/n.
“I didn’t get one.”
“But he bought you one,” she grinned, taking a sip.
“And if I took it I’d be opening myself up to talk to him, and I have nothing to say to him.”
They both looked over to the bar, finding the man in question talking with a man with purple hair who looked less than thrilled to be there. When Y/n turned back around, Black Swan was watching her drink swirl together– the layers becoming muddled and the vibrant colors becoming one dull shade. He could sense a coming lecture and sighed.
“You want to be a memokeeper to preserve your kind, to leave a record in the wake of your destruction so that maybe someday– if the universe comes to an end– you can be born again.”
“If you’re about to suggest repopulating my kind I’m going to leave.”
Black Swan laughed.
“No, no, that’s a decision only you can make. I’m just saying that you’ve found your purpose now, maybe it’s time to give relationships another chance.”
Y/n frowned.
Black Swan wasn’t wrong. The only reason Y/n had broken up with Aventurine was because he’d felt too dependent on the IPC agent. Aventurine had tried to comfort him by insisting he could depend on him, but that had only made things worse. Neither of them wanted to be taken care of and while Aventurine was in a position where he could take care of Y/n, even if it was only superficially, Y/n was out matched. So he’d left.
Now he just wasn’t sure what to say.
He’d been unsure of what to say for years. He’d had the same conversation with himself every night as he lay in bed, trying to find the words that explained why he left. Trying to explain what exactly ‘you’re too coddling’ actually meant beyond never letting him pay.
---
Y/n felt shifting below him, nudging him awake. He buried himself into his pillow a little more, frowning at how hard it was, before prying his eyes open.
“It’s been awhile,” a groggy voice spoke from above him. 
The apprentice memokeeper sat up, groaning in pain as his back stretched out from the uncomfortably bent position he’d been in. Aventurine laughed, squeezing his hand. Y/n hadn’t even noticed that he was holding it, but he quickly pulled it back and settled his hands in his lap.
“Sorry, must’ve been really tired,” Y/n mumbled, yawning as he pressed himself back into his chair. “I’ll go get a doctor.”
Aventurine grabbed his wrist as he tried to leave.
“Can we talk?”
“You should get checked out, you’ve been out for a while.”
“It’s not like I’m hurt.”
“No,” Y/n sighed, “you were comatose. I’m getting you a doctor, then we can talk.”
He kept his word.
A few minutes after the doctor left the room, Y/n re-entered with a tray of food. He sat back in his seat and set the tray on the bed table before pulling it up to Aventurine.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” Y/n said.
Aventurine nodded, staring at the food in front of him as they fell silent.
The small room was filled with the ticking of the clock on the wall and the faint sounds of footsteps outside. They were in the medical area on Penacony; Robin and Sunday were being treated in their rooms but Aventurine was stuck here.
Y/n found himself staring at the food on Aventurine’s tray as well.
“I’m sorry,” they both said. “Why are you-” they continued, stopping when they both turned to look at each other at the same time.
Y/n looked tired, and Aventurine looked a little sickly. It was almost funny that they were looking at each other in such vulnerable states. Maybe if they’d been able to see each other like this before, they wouldn’t have broken up. If they’d been able to understand that being able to protect one another was the only way they felt strong.
“I get it,” Aventurine said. “I always understood it… because I felt the same way,” his voice dropped to a whisper as he looked down to his hands in his lap.
“It was just… so hard to feel like I couldn’t do anything for you, like I was useless and maybe if we weren’t us we could have worked through it together but everything you tried to do to make things better made me feel worse.”
They fell silent again, collecting their thoughts and picking their next words.
This was the most open they’d ever been with each other.
“Did you find what you were looking for?” Aventurine asked suddenly.
“I did. I’ve been trying to think of how to tell you but it felt weird.”
“Why?” Y/n looked up at him. “Did you want to tell me, I mean.”
“Because I miss you.”
Aventurine nodded, then reached for their hand. He intertwined their fingers.
“Kakavasha. That’s my name.”
A small smile tugged at Y/n’s lips.
“Kakavasha,” he brought the back of the man’s hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss against the worn skin, “I think it’s a beautiful name.”
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lunajay33 · 2 days
Text
Change Part.6
•🎀🩰🩷•
Summary: Y/n is a loner but loves ballet but her family doesn’t have enough money for her to dance at the studio, Daryl is a redneck who hates people and prefers bikes, until one day these two run into eachother and their lives change drastically, will Daryl toughen her up? Will y/n soften Daryl? Or both? How will things go when people start coming back from the dead
Pairing: Young Daryl Dixon x f!reader
A/n: This is going to be a series, it’s gonna start with how they met eachother and their lives before the apocalypse, eventually it’ll blend with twd story line!!
Part.5
•Masterlist•
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It had been a week since the incident with the walker, Daryl refused to let me go out alone again and I didn’t blame him I didn’t want to be alone either it was too risky, it wasn’t just my life in danger, I had a baby to worry about and I refused to leave Daryl alone in a world like this, I rolled over in bed admiring his sleeping form, his hair all crazy, I love him so much and the fact that our family was just about to begin tore something from me that I always dreamed about
“Mornin” he grumbled as I ran my hand through his hair
“Sorry did I wake you?”
“Nah I was up a while ago just waiting for ya”
“Mmmm” I didn’t know if it was the pregnancy hormones or what but my mood was at an all time low and I didn’t wanna drag Daryl down too
“What’re ya thinking about” he asked as he squeezed my hip
“Nothing”
“Angel I know ya like the back of my hand, I know when yer over thinking”
I sighed hating that he’s always been able to crack me out of my shell he shown me time and time again that I can trust him with anything, he’ll we’re having a baby together why shouldn’t I tell him
“Just been thinking where my family are now, I know I haven’t talked to them in like a year but I still wonder if they’re even alive”
“The last time you talked to them they called ya a selfish slut, ya shouldn’t worry about them, all they’ve ever done was hurt ya angel, we got our own family now, one that’ll love ya more than they ever could” Daryl wasn’t much of a big speech kinda guy but when he knew I needed comforting he pushed that side of him away to be there for me
“Yeah I guess you’re right, like usual” I said laughing as he pulled me closer so I could lay my head in his chest
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I was sat in the living room curled in a blanket reading the new twilight book hearing the rain patter against the windows, the smell of a roast in the oven that Daryl had put in, right when I got to the part where Edward was leaving Bella the phone rang, Daryl at my side handed it over scoffing at the caller ID
Caller ID: Jackson L/N
“This can’t be good” I sighed clicking answer and putting it on speaker
“Hello?”
“You need to come home” not even a hi or nothing
“Why? None of you have bothered to contact me in months what is it this time?”
“Dad lost his job, mom and dad need money for rent” I could see the anger written all over Daryl’s face
“Jackson I have my own life now, I can’t be helping you guys out ever time you need money, I have bills of my own and I don’t wanna waste my money on people who don’t even care about me”
“Are you serious right now?” He asked enraged
“Why can’t you help, you’re the one that got that football scholarship, I had to work my way through university and I’m still paying off student loans, plus Daryl and I have to pay for our house and car and motorcycle”
“You know what this is done, you’re out of this family for good this time, mom and dad should’ve gotten rid of you when they had the chance you selfish slut” the phone disconnected signalling he hung up
I looked at feeling my chest tighten, I never wanted this I was never the golden child in their eyes, I only ever felt like I mattered when Daryl came into my life
“He’s lucky this was over the phone or I’d beat him into the ground” Daryl groaned rubbing my legs over the blanket
“Why am I never good enough for them?”
“Ya got that wrong Angel, they ain’t good enough for you”
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As I sat outside eating breakfast Daryl and Merle got ready for the day, Merle was going to Atlanta with some people from the camp and Daryl was going out hoping to find a deer he’s been tracking for a while
“I gotta go now Angel” Daryl said as he stung his crossbow over his shoulder
“But I don’t want you to go” I whined getting up to wrap my arms around him
“I know but I’ll be back later this evening just try and stay around the other, don’t want another problem like last week” he said placing a kiss to my cheek
“Fine just promise me you’ll be safe out there, that you’ll come back to me”
“Promise”
He picked up some extra arrows and disappeared through the tree line
“Ya got him wrapped around yer lil finger don’t ya” Merle mocked
“Come on Merle can’t you just be happy that he’s happy, I know you don’t like me much but you’re my family now and I’m yours, plus I’m carrying your niece or nephew can’t we just be cordial for once” I said exhausted from his constant bickering
“Don’t matter ta me ya got knocked up, ya made my brother soft and yer gonna see ya ruined his life” he picked up his weapons and left the camp site leaving with the Atlanta crew
“God when do I catch I break?” I sat back down in the camp chair not noticing someone sit next to me until they talked
“You okay sweetie?” It was Lori
“It’s just Merle, always a pain in my ass, just been thinking about what’s gonna happen now with the baby and everything I’m just scared” I looked at here to see if she’d give me advice but here eyes were wide
“What?” I asked confused
“You’re pregnant?”
“Yeah, I guess we never really mentioned it”
“You know when I found out I was pregnant with Carl, I was a wreck I was young and scared and didn’t know what to do with myself, but the moment I saw him curled up in my arms so little without a care in the world, I knew what I had to do to protect him from harm, everything will be okay” she smiled patting my back
“Thanks, that’s help a bit I just wish it wasn’t in these circumstances”
“How far along are you?”
“About 4 months now, I’ve been taking my prenatals and everything”
“Well I’m always here if you have questions about the baby or changes you go through, but I have to go cut Carls hair”
Something clicked, maybe since this was a new start for Daryl and I and with the baby in this new world maybe I needed a new look, something to liven my spirits
“Umm Lori, would you be up for cutting my hair too!” I asked as I ran up next to her as she walked towards her camp
“I’d love to”
I sat next to Shane as Lori worked on Carls hair, he couldn’t stop complaining but it was adorable
“One day you’re gone wish you had her cutting your hair” Shane said laughing
“Doubt it”
“Trust me Carl, one day you’ll crave to be have these moments again with your mom, it may not seem like it but you will” I said seeing a little smile on his rosy cheeks
“Alright you’re all done” Lori said as she swiped off his extra hair on his shirt
I sat down in front of her as she wrapped a towel around my shoulders
“Alright how short do you want it?” My hair was down to my mid lower back
“How about just below my shoulder”
“That’s quit a chop”
“Well I need it”
She held my hair back and it a split second it was chopped, she straightened out some uneven pieces and it was done
“Well what do you think?”
“It’s really nice Mrs. Dixon!” Carl said with a beaming smile
“Well thank you but you can call me y/n sweetie” he was adorable I hope my child is as sweet as him
“It suits you perfect dear”
“Thank you! I should go clean some clothes done at the quarry, if you need anything I’ll be down there!”
I spent most of the evening down at the quarry cleaning and scribbling mine and daryls dirty clothes, laying them out on some rocks to let them dry, meanwhile dipping my feet in the cool water helping to sooth my ankles that have been getting a bit swollen
I looked around hoping no one was near, I haven’t been able to get a good proper bath in a while so I stripped down my clothes leaving only my bra and panties, submerging myself in the lake floating belly up watching the clouds pass by just like the time Daryl took me here
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“Daryl Dixon did you drag me out here just to see me naked?” I asked smirking as he started taking off his shoes and pants
“Come on it’s nice out yer gonna love it” he said as he was stepping into the lake
I bit my lip feeling that thrill shoot through me, I stripped to just my panties and bra, I walked over taking his hand
“Aren’t you going to take your shirt off?”
“Ya sure?” I knew he was embarrassed about his scars but they weren’t his fault
“You know they don’t bother me, I love you for you, not what happen to you” I said squeezing his hand reassuringly
He lifted it over his head and threw it back over to my clothes pill
“Come on Dixon show me how great this’ll be, better not let me drown” I laughed as I dragged him in
“Still can’t believe yer my girl”
“And I’ll be your girl until you’re sick of me”
“Never”
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“Well well well what do we have here?” I heard behind me as I pulled on my clothes after drying off
“What do you want Ed?” I groaned feeling that touch of fear he instilled in the women of the camp
“Showing yourself down here for the whole camp, you’re asking for it” he said stepping closer
“Leave me alone Ed”
“Ya ain’t got your man around who’s gonna stop me?”
“Don’t you touch me or you’ll be sorry”
He stepped closer squeezing my jaw now face to face
“Like I said ain’t no one gonna stop me” he said as his other hand started to wander down my arm
Before he could get any further he was ripped away Shane throwing him to the ground
“Touch her or anyone else again Ed and I’ll beat ya to death I swear, come on y/n” I gathered up all the clothes I washed and ran to Shane’s side as he lead me safely back to the camp
“Thanks, I didn’t know anyone was around”
“Ain’t your fault, Ed’s one sick man you stay away from him, stay with the group until Daryl or Merle gets back”
I sat down next to Amy folding up the laundry still to shaken up to have conversation that’s when a car alarm was ringing around the quarry, the group was back and it felt a little better knowing Merle would be here while Daryl was gone, Shane shut off the car alarm and others filtered out of a cargo truck
Lori and Carl had their moment with their “back from the dead” father and husband which was incredibly heart warming but then I realized something
“Where’s Merle?”
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Please please please give me some ideas for this story going forward🩷 How should I incorporate the ballerina story line into the new world??:)
Taglist: @pinchofthetwd @bigbaldheadname @strawberrykiwisdogog @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @l0kilaufeys0n7 @deansapplepie @severelykinky @tesfayera @daryldixmedown @secretsicanthideanymore @mordilwen-of-mirkwood @secretsicanthideanymore @superbowlisgay @pollito-chicken @minnie-min @writer-ann-artist @twisteduniverse5 @heidiland05 @lettersfromyourlove
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darkbluekies · 2 days
Text
Of course I write psychopaths as well lmao, gotta keep the trademark
(Last private story thing I promise, I'm just so excited about these two sorry🥹🫶🏻)
Ps these are pretty violent so warning
Story 1
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He wakes up to a hand slapped over his mouth. His eyes widen. At first he can't see anything, everything is too dark and blurry. As soon as his eyes have adjusted, he sees a pair of cold, gray eyes above him. The gray eyes are hidden by black stripes. HG lets out a skin-like squeal that is muffled by the hand over his mouth. Panic fills the chest. HO holds his index finger over his lips and hushes quietly.
"Come with me," the boy whispers. “I have a knife.”
HG can't move. HO gently helps him sit up with a soft, guiding hand resting on his small back. HG feels his head spinning from lack of oxygen and looks around. In the beds around him lie all the others, innocently asleep. If he just opened his mouth and said something they would wake up and be able to help him, but the sight of the shiny metal resting on the bedspread makes him sick. If he tries to wake the others, he will get the blade through the stomach.
HO notices that he has seen the knife, because he smiles crookedly and lifts it.
"It wasn't Archie (i have deleted that character so its okay to show the name) who took it, believe it or not," he grins and turns it over in fascination. "If you go along and shut up, you won't come into contact with it, okay?"
HG body twitches. He finds it difficult to nod, but finally manages to gently nod his head. HO runs his left hand through HG brown locks with a humble smile. He places the edge of the knife against HG'S back and forces him out of the dormitory. HG'S legs don't want to move and nearly trip him over the threshold on his way out. The stand is pressed hard against his waist. Millions of thoughts run through his head, but he can't understand any of them. They are flashing red as warning signals, but none of them are warning him of anything, they are screaming for help.
He doesn't want to die here. He doesn't want to die tonight. HG wants to cry, but doesn't dare.
HO takes him through the dark corridors, over to Dr. C'S office. He opens the door and lets HG walk in before him with the knife between them. The older boy flinches when the table lamp comes on. In the soft glow of the lamp, HO appears even colder, even paler.
“Are you going to kill me too?” HG asks quietly.
"Kill you?" HO repeats confused. "Why would I do that? Who have you been talking to?”
HG doesn't answer.
"Who have you been talking to, HG?" HO repeats, louder. He presses the knife against his pelvic bone.
"EDW," he gasps, thinking that EDW has a better chance of getting away from HO a second time.
“Who else knows? BN knows, right?”
HG feels his breathing hitch.
"Fuck," HO mutters and turns his gaze to the window. "Damn he's stupid."
“Why is he stupid?” HG ventures to ask, his heart pounding against his ribs. "What is it that you want?"
“You know a lot about medicine, I suppose. You are addicted to it. Help me find a poison strong enough to kill a horse.”
HG shivers. At first he doesn't move, doesn't answer. The thought of what HO will do with a poison strong enough to kill a horse makes his stomach turn. Softly, HO reaches out his hand for HG'S hair, but this HG backs away. He doesn't have time to stop himself. Ho takes a firm grip on his hair with nails scraping against HG'S scalp.
"Stop!" snarls HO. “Stop doing that!”
He lets go of HG, who nimbly staggers backwards and hits his hip on the desk. The pain penetrates the medicine, shooting lightning bolts through the blood. His chest rises and falls in a frenzy. His legs soon won't hold him up.
HG nods quickly and exhales slowly. The head spins uncomfortably. He wants to sit down.
"It's pretty pathetic when you think about it," says HO, twirling the shiny knife in his hand. “How dependent you are on the medicine, that is. Quite sad. Quite fascinating. The whole of you is fascinating, HG.” He raises his gray, intense gaze. “Like that time when you got a freak out during the test. When you screamed and punched and kicked like a madman. It was the only thing that made me endure that test. I can't scream, so I want you to do it for both of us.”
HG thinks he's going to pass out. If he hadn't seen the knife in HO's hands, he would have thought he had been stabbed in the stomach.
"What do you mean?" he gasps.
“It hurts, HG, everything hurts so much ... but I can't do anything. I want to tear myself apart, but I can't. But you… you're perfect.”
"Do not touch me."
“But, HG, in heaven you will be well. You won't have your pain anymore, so what if your human body is broken?” He smiles shyly and shrugs shyly. “I mean… how would you be able to stop me?”
Disgust fills the mouth. HG glares at him. He wishes he had opened his mouth inside the dorm and risked a stab in the stomach.
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Story 2
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OL was pushed down hard on the chair. Philip stood behind her, a rough hand resting on her bony shoulder. Mr. D calmly turned the revolver and smiled in shock. He exchanged an amused look with PH.
"This one is Edwardian," he said amused. “Where did you get this?”
“From a man who wanted me dead—at your command.”
Mr. D frowned, thinking, as if trying to figure out who could have tried to kill her. OL wanted to snort. How many had been ordered to kill her, if Mr. D had to think about it? He shook his head, letting it go.
"Oh, it's not important," he said, putting the gun aside.
He rummaged further in the bag and fished out the teddy bear with a mocking laugh. OL glared away at the wall, refusing to pay him any attention. She blushed, but didn't try to defend herself.
"You're too old for stuffed animals," he said.
Out of the corner of his eye, OL could see how he grabbed the teddy bear with both hands, and easily ripped off one of its legs. She widened her eyes in panic and threw her head in Mr. Dutcher's direction, her body filling with ice.
"Stop!" she screamed shrill and shot up from her chair, but was brutally pushed down by PH. “Let it be!”
Mr. D's lips twitched into a smile as he nonchalantly tore off the teddy bear's other leg, and both of its arms. He had his head beheaded and his eyes gouged out. OL wanted to scream, but her voice got stuck in the pit of her throat. She found it difficult to breathe. He waved the remains of the teddy bear in front of her eyes in an attempt to ridicule her but she boldly turned her head away, refusing to look at him. Mr. D opened his hand and flicked it across her face. OL's head flew to the side with a strong whiplash, and a scream mixed with surprise and pain rolled off his tongue. If PH hadn't kept a firm grip on her shoulders, she probably would have followed the head, down to the cement floor which was now full of white fluff.
"Don't think I've forgotten how rowdy you are," snapped Mr. D, shaking his hand free.
Her left cheek ached, throbbed and burned. OL turned her head towards him with a flash of anger in her tear filled eyes. He kept eye contact with his cold, dead eyes as he tore through the bag. He suddenly dissolved and lifted out the diary. He dropped the bag and what was left of the teddy bear onto the cement floor.
"Here we have it," he said, sounding possessed, manic. “Here we have it, finally.”
An uncomfortable silence fell over the warehouse. OL breathed quietly, straining the air between her teeth. Nausea surged inside her and pressed against the pit of her throat. She watched as Mr. D flipped through the pages, skimming through the various texts. He seemed surprised by what he read, though he tried to hide it behind a pleased grin.
"It's not a little you've written," he noted, looking up from the pages. “You must have protected this book with your life, right? Who knew about it?”
"None," OL answered shortly. “I made sure no one knew about it.”
He waved the book menacingly in front of her eyes. “What were you planning to do with it? Did you intend to use it as blackmail to get out of the contract? Or did you intend to publish it to bring me down? You know no one would have believed you, right?”
OL did not respond.
"Shall we have some reading aloud?" he asked. "Then we'll see if it sounds credible."
He flipped back and forth. OLS's cheeks burned with shame. She had exposed herself on the pages and written things she never thought anyone—especially not one of the men who hurt her—would read. Mr. D was going to hold it against her.
“You have pages left,” he said. "Your last writing is from the eighteenth of September 1916"
OL struggled against PH's grasp. "Stop! You disgusting creep, stop mentioning it!”
Mr. D took his nose out of the book. He met OLS's manic eyes that were flooded with desperate tears. She hadn't read anything she'd written since September eighteenth, had forgotten how much it really hurt.
"What did you call me?" he asked tentatively.
“A creep!” yelled OL through violent sobs. “You are a vile, cowardly creep! Damn you are a man! A man would never have treated us the way you did! You deserved to get rid of your biggest ships, and all the money you had wasted on them!”
Another hard blow slammed across her face, a harder one. OLS neck snapped.
"You must have been afraid we would tell someone about what you did," she hissed, turning her head back to Mr. D. "Why else would you have kept us inside the house?"
“It was your uncle's idea.”
“Because he did everything to be on your good side! It's your fault that they are dead — your fault that I'm left alone! I'm so glad TN stole the contract that night, and tore it up. You can find the pieces in the diary, if you don't believe me.”
"I was with your sister when she died."
A cold wind pulled through her, chilling her heart in a macabre way. She seemed to lose her hearing for a few seconds. The body went numb.
“Do you even know what happened to her?” asked Mr. Dutcher, cocking his head. "Not? Then let me tell you.”
OL couldn't answer, her voice was stuck in her throat. She didn't know if she wanted to know. Her head had already given her every conceivable scenario of how TN had died, one worse than the other. She might have scared herself. Knowing what had actually happened could be good for her. OL hesitated. What would she do if what Mr. D said was worse than what she had imagined? Or if he lied?
"She was all alone," said Mr. D, sighing. “She tried to run away from me, but I caught her. I pulled her by the hair, away from everyone else. I punched her, kicked her and pounded her head on the deck.”
OL covered her hanging mouth with her shaking hands as she shook her head in despair. She didn't want to hear any more.
“She screamed for you, OL,” continued Mr. D, “until she passed out. Then I picked her up and threw her overboard. She woke up when she hit the surface of the water, but she didn't manage to stay up for long.”
"You're lying," OL whispered in horror. “That—…that can't have happened—”
He grabbed her head.
"You know I'm not lying," he said. “But no one will believe you if you try to tell them. Especially not without this one.”
OL followed the diary with his eyes. He dropped it on the cement floor. From his pocket he took out a box of matches.
“Wait, what are you doing?” screamed OL in panic, trying to fight PH once again. "Don't do it! Please don't, I'll do anything! D, please!” Her voice rose octave after octave to a shrill, panicked voice.
Mr. D paid her no attention. He drew the match against his ashtray, let the flame grow, then let it go. It fell against the diary, caught fire instantly. OL swallowed her scream and watched the diary burn. Years of work disappeared before her eyes in less than a minute. The dark red book took off a black surface, and its pages crumbled into ash. She couldn't move. All evidence of the pain she was forced to go through, the memories of her long lost sisters and gifts, destroyed, killed.
“Don't worry, OL,” said Mr. D, accepting an iron pipe from one of his henchmen, “you won't have to try to prove this to anyone. You will not get out of here alive.”
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Ros walking into the kitchen and seeing mc in just their undies/boxers and just making coffee while still being half asleep. How would they react?
(Dating stage also maybe a lil ✨️spice✨️if comfortable with it)
⚠️ Mild NSFW
💛 Marcel
Marcel would stop when he saw you it felt so right....he didn't know how else to explain it but you standing there in the soft kitchen light made his heart flutter
Your boyfriend didn't waste anytime before kissing the back of your head.
"I love you," Marcel whispered in your ear making you smile as you turned around, now wide awake even without the coffee.
"I love you too." You said back, a soft blush on your cheeks which only made you more beautiful in Marcel's eyes.
"I want to wake up beside you every day," Marcel said, bringing your hand to his lips and kissing your fingertips.
Your face felt like it was about to split open with how big you were grinning. "I'm sure we can arrange that."
🧡 Margaret
You almost dropped your cup of coffee when you heard a squeal, you twirled your to find Margaret with a hand over her mouth but her eyes gleeful. "You're radiant."
You tried to get your head around Margaret's outburst as she put her arms around you, giving you a peck on the nose.
You were still wearing your sleepwear, your hair not brushed, and your face not washed you shook your head. "I look like a hot mess."
Margaret gasped as if you offended her. "You look amazing! I always think you look amazing even when you're not half naked." Margaret said, rambling a little. "And you making coffee that means you feel comfortable with me which is so good."
You blushed a little at Margaret's confession. "Of course, I feel comfortable with you Margaret. How could I not?"
Margaret grinned from ear to ear, a blush coating her cheeks as he bounced a little on her toes. "How about some breakfast?"
You mentally winced at the burnt smell that was yet to fill the room but your heart melted at Margaret's need to want to make you feel loved.
"How about I help you make breakfast?"
"Deal!"
❤️ Owen
Owen watched you from the doorway, his eyes trained on your body.
"If this pretty picture is going to be in my kitchen every time I wake up I don't think I would be able to sleep."
You whirled around, the sleep leaving your eyes as you looked down at yourself, seeing that you had fewer clothes than usual when you left Owen's bedroom. "I'm sorry I was just making some coffee but I can go get dressed."
Owen stepped closer, his hands on both sides of your body, making you feel like a trapped animal but the look in Owen's eye didn't make you shiver in fear but something else.
"Bloody hell, Lass/Duck/lad...all I want to do is kiss you," Owen said in a gruff voice.
When you leaned forward and opened your mouth only slightly that was all Owen needed before he was kissing you roughly, his hands finding the inside of your underwear making you moan and Owen's started sucking your neck.
"I could get used to this, lass/duck/lad," Owen said as he started to get on his knees.
💙 Rosemary
Rosemary watched you, her body still and tense. You were making coffee it was so domestic and a small part of her that she thought was dead wanted to dance around the room.
But the majority of her wanted to bolt out the door because she knew what came after the soft touches and sweet words especially when they felt at home enough to make coffee in such a radiant state. She knew that the pain would quickly follow and the soft touches would start to bruise her body.
Rosemary shook her head. No you weren't like that. You were better. You were hers. She was yours. You loved her.
But didn't he say the same thing?
You turned around and Rosemary stayed still, watching you.
A lazy smile spread across your face. "You want me to make you some coffee?"
All the fear that Rosemary was having washed away. This was you. You would never hurt or force her to do anything.
Rosemary walked towards you, catching you by surprise when she kissed you deep and soft, letting a sly smile cross her face when she pulled back and you had a far-off look in your eye.
"What was that for?" You asked, still in a daze.
"For being you."
🩵 Tai
Tai was a creature of habit. He usually started the morning by Getting up or in his case leaving his office and making a healthy breakfast before heading to the clinic. So when things were out of order it made him irritated and itching to make everything the way it was supposed to be.
But when he left for his office, thinking you were still sound asleep in his bed, this morning to see you standing in the kitchen, looking so at home in his own house he couldn't help but this to be a habit. To make this perfect picture part of his routine.
If only he could convince you.....
Tai grabbed your hand, making you jump a little only to relax when you saw Tai looking a little flustered.
"Sit down," Tai ordered making you frown in confusion.
"What? I was just putting a pot of coffee on sorry if I have overstepped"
Tai shook his head and got two cups out. "While it is deeply unhealthy to drink caffeine. I to indulge in the beverage, and you are allowed to help yourself to anything in the kitchen."
You sat down, watching as Tai started to pull out silverware and food from the fridge.
"What are you doing?"
Tai flipped through his cookbook. "Making breakfast I thought you would recognize the action of someone cooking, Oleander."
You rolled your eyes. "I see that you are cooking but why? Don't you have work?"
"I am my boss and I thought breakfast would be nice to share this morning and a thank you for putting a pot of coffee on."
You smiled and saw the little fidget in Tai's brow. He was nervous. He wanted you to stay.
With a soft smile, you got up. "Fine but I'm setting the table."
💚 Zane
It was weird. No, it was downright odd. When Zane started dating you, a lot changed for him and what he thought was normal was wrong. He knew that his childhood wasn't a happy or healthy one but he still was mind blown by situations like this.
For you to be naked wasn't something Zane was opposed to and kind of suspected when you two got moments alone together but to be making coffee like you were in a gleeful bliss. That this was normal made Zane's chest feel funny. Although it always felt funny being near you.
You were making coffee which meant you might drink it here, near Zane. Which meant you wanted to stay longer maybe even eat breakfast together like those couples on TV did.
It was all so.....nice.
"Zane?" You called pulling Zane out of his own thoughts as you looked at him a little concerned. "You alight? I called your name twice with no answer."
Zane tried to shake off your concern however the worry for him made his chest become tight. "Fine. What are you doing?"
You yawned and looked around the kitchen. "I was going to make us some breakfast but the fridge is empty."
Zane walked over to the cabinet and pulled out some cereal written on it in big letters "DO NOT EAT! ZANE'S PROPERTY" and threw it at you. "Here. Have some of this."
You glanced between the cereal and Zane. "You're letting me have some of your cereal?"
Zane got some chocolate milk out of the fridge and fixed him a glass. "You are going to need your energy for what I want to do with you."
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Horror characters reactions to their s/o leaving sexy Polaroids around the house for them
Had this idea for a bit and I finally got around to writing it for y'all. I'm going to try and post regularly but because of everything I have going on right now I might not be able to for a bit.
Characters Included: Bo Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, Peter Strahm, Asa Emory, and Bubba Sawyer
Content Includes: 18+ material do not interact if you are underage, explicit mentions of nude photos taken of reader, implied sex, GN reader, implied male masturbation, masturbating to readers pictures, brief mentions of murder
Bo Sinclair
Coming home after a long day working Bo expected to find you waiting for him like you usually do. But tonight is different. Tonight you're nowhere to be found. But when Bo takes his first step inside he finds a Polaroid at his foot, but not just any Polaroid, it’s a Polaroid of you wearing nothing but your underwear.
Bo walks further into the house and what does he find? More and more Polaroids of you in sexy positions that you know is going to drive him nuts. By the time he gets upstairs he’s straining hard against his pants and he had to undo his belt.
And when Bo finds you after gathering up all of your little Polaroids, you're in for a wild night. He won't even give you a chance to say anything he'll just corner you against somewhere and lay out all of the Polaroids in front of you while whispering in your ear, "Yer a little tease ain't ya? With yer god damn little pictures. Well get ready darlin', I'm just getting started."
Lester Sinclair
When Lester wakes up you're still asleep, and he doesn't like making you wake up as early as he does so he lets you sleep in. But today while he was getting ready he kept finding these sexy Polaroids of you around the house. You in these pretty lingerie pieces, sexy poses, provocative stances.
He obviously gets turned on, but he thinks this might have been for when he got home later in the day. So he puts them all back where he found them and he ignores the throbbing in his pants while he tries to deal with getting ready.
But when he gets in his truck to leave for the day and he pulls down that sun visor, another Polaroid falls down into his lap. This one shows you in a position so utterly sexy to him he has to go back inside and jump into bed with you, waking you up with kisses as he groans about how hard you've made him.
Peter Strahm
After getting home late one night from a grueling week of work Peter is looking forward to having some time to himself. But when he steps inside the house and sees a Polaroid picture of you taped there, he had to get a better look. Of course this Polaroid was of you, dressed up in a sexy outfit, posing in front of a mirror.
Peter swallows hard and uses his detective skills in a much more fun way tonight. He goes around the house, gathering up all the other Polaroids you hid everywhere before spreading them out on the kitchen table of your house. Looking over all of them get's him undeniably hard. Knowing that you're already asleep, he's not going to wake you. So for now Peter takes care of this issue himself, while looking down at your pretty pictures.
After cleaning up he gets into bed with you and cuddles up close against you. Now in the morning when you try and pull away from him, he's not going to let you get away so soon. He needs to have a little talk with you about those Polaroids, he's sure you'll understand.
Asa Emory
Coming back to his town house like any other day, checking the mail and setting it down, going into his office, not expecting anything different. But then he sees a Polaroid sitting on his desk. He doesn't remember taking one. He picks it up and sees you in it, naked and posed in a sexual manner.
Asa knows that there are others hidden around the house, and seeing that you're out at the moment, he's going to find them all, then the camera you used. As he keeps gathering up these Polaroids he keeps getting more and more turned on, especially seeing some of the things you've done to yourself in these pictures.
When you get home he's waiting for you in his office, the Polaroids neatly laid out in a uniform fashion with the camera sitting nearby. "Sit." Is all he's going to tell you for the time being before he has you handle the growing issue you gave him.
Bubba Sawyer
When the two of you finally get to be alone in the house together Bubba expected some sexy activities, but he didn't expect to go around the house finding Polaroids of you in such sexy manners. His eyes get fixated on the Polaroids in his hands as he goes around gathering them all up.
Bubba isn't exactly a spring chicken when it comes to nudity and sex. He sees naked people all the time when he's cutting up victims, but this is different. This gets him excited in an entirely new way.
When he finally finds you he's so wound up from all of the Polaroids you gave him that all he's able to do is pick you up in his huge arms and carry you off into the bedroom to have some fun times in there. Maybe you could try out some new poses for him in there too.
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iwritesickfic · 2 days
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Where I Need to Be - part 2
it's been a while since I put out part 1, but here's the conclusion! hope you enjoy :)
While the day has been miserable, Theo’s pretty sure he’s over the hump of whatever illness he has. He hasn’t thrown up since this morning, and his fever’s been under control (mostly) since he’s been able to hold down ibuprofen and water. He’s still got a pounding headache, and his stomach is puffy and tender, but all in all, it’s not as bad as it could be. And he knows how bad it could be.
He’s been in and out of sleep the last few hours, and he’s woken up most recently to a hushed phone conversation happening on the other side of the bedroom door. He’s only getting bits and pieces-
“Kelly, I told you…sick, that’s why…fever…Ok fine…One hour…Ok. Bye.”
Then the door opens, and Seamus is walking in. His smile is strained, but it’s there.
“Hey, love. How are we?” he asks, same gentle voice as always. It’s so different than the one he was using on the phone just a moment ago.
“Not bad,” he says, and for once he's telling the truth. Seamus sits down the edge of the bed, laying his hand on Theo’s forehead.
“You still feel pretty cool. Not cool, but not…not too hot,” he says, and runs his thumb back and forth over his sweat slick skin. They sit in silence for a while before Seamus speaks again. “So. I’m going to ask you something but I need you to be really, really honest. Ok?”
Theo nods. This will have to do with the phone call. Kelly is the artist whose album he’s working on. And who deeply, deeply dislikes Theo. Needless to say, she was not pleased to find out Seamus was missing a day of work to be with Theo, fever of 104 or not.
“There’s a dinner tonight with some people from the label, and Kelly- they want me to go.” There’s an expression on his face that Theo can only describe as shame. It makes sense he’d feel that way, but Theo doesn’t hold it against him. Work is work, they both know that, and some part of Theo was waiting for this conversation to come. And he can't even fully focus because his head is throbbing.
“Ok,” he says, voice shaky. “What did you tell them?”
“I told them I’d have to see about it but it’d only be there for an hour, tops. So be honest, if I was gone for two hours, do you think you’d be ok? Do you feel like it’s getting worse?”
“How big of a deal is it? Contract, or?” He already knows it’s a very big deal or Seamus wouldn’t be asking, but his answer will pretty much depend on it.
“That’s not…” He bites his lip. “It’s not contracted, but if they don’t like what they see…” He trails off before shaking his head. “It’s ok either way. If I stay or go. Just be honest.”
Honestly, he doesn’t want Seamus to leave. Not at all. That said, he doesn’t feel sick enough to justify making him stay. If sleeps for the next few hours, which is likely, there’d be no point in making Seamus stay home.
“Go. I’ll be fine.” A wave of relief seems to wash over Seamus, though the look of guilt doesn’t totally leave.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I’ll be fine for a couple hours.”
“Ok. Two hours. Tops.”
He’s asleep before Seamus even walks out the door. But when he wakes up, he realizes that this virus is far from done with him.
His whole body is shaking, sweat pouring off him, his clothes plastered to his skin. His stomach is in knots, and when he opens his mouth to take a gasping breath he immediately heaves up a mouthful of bile. He’s so hot. He’s never been so hot in his life. His chest is tight with it, his breath is shallow.
He knows he needs to get to the bathroom, but the minute he pushes himself up with trembling arms, the world spins, and he vomits again. God, his stomach. He moans and forces himself out of bed, and quickly finds he’s way too weak and dizzy to stand. He nearly faints before catching himself on the bedframe. Somehow, he finds his way to the bathroom and falls hard to his knees before leaning over the toilet and heaving again.
The cold of the tile almost hurts his fevered skin. It feels raw, just like his throat. His chin is sticky with drying vomit, and he peels off his shirt. When his hand goes to touch his cramping middle he can't hold back the whimper that escapes. It's so tender - the touch feels like a stab. He also can feel that he’s very, very bloated. The normally concave expanse of his abs is jutting out from his hips, puffy and aching. The waistband of his shorts presses uncomfortably into the swell, and combined with the pressure of his touch, it makes him retch.
In between heaves he can’t hold his head up, so he slumps against the toilet bowl, forehead on the cold porcelain rim.
Sweat drips from the tip of his nose on the floor below him. His breath is gasping in and out, and he's not sure whether he's shaking with fever or sheer exertion.
“Seamus!” He calls as loudly as his voice will let him, which isn’t very loud at all. It's cracked and thin. In that moment he remembers Seamus isn’t here. The thought wrenches a sob from him.
God, he’s so pathetic. A quivering mess, crying for his boyfriend, vomit on his chin. There are a few minutes of respite where he just sits there trying to catch his breath, chest jumping up and down, praying for relief from the fever and the throbbing in his skull. Praying it’s almost… What time is it? What time did Seamus leave?
Before he can think much harder on it, he’s vomiting again. There's only bile now, nothing else is left in his stomach. But once the bile is gone, it doesn’t stop. It’s wringing him out. He’s dry heaving until he’s too weak to. He’s still dripping sweat. It burns his eyes, stings his chapped lips.
He needs to get his phone. He needs to call Seamus. It has to have been two hours by now - it feels like he’s been in this bathroom for 5. But it can’t have been, because Seamus would be back.
The bedroom. His phone is in the bedroom.
He’s no stranger to being this sick, but it doesn’t make it any easier.
He stumbles back down the hall, having to stop and lean against the wall every few steps when his lightheadedness is too much to handle.
He gets the phone. His hands are shaking so badly he almost drops it. He taps Seamus's perfect, smiling photo. Immediately, he hears his voicemail message - "Hey, it's Seamus. I don't really check my voicemail so just shoot me a text! Thanks." There's a dial tone, and Theo hangs up. He calls again. The phone is sticking to the side of his face. Same thing.
This is a nightmare. It has to be. He looks at the time. It's after 10, Seamus should've been home by 8.
Theo is slumped on the floor, back against the wall, just trying to breathe evenly enough to avoid throwing up any more than he already has. The last bout of vomiting had quelled the nausea slightly, but it's back, despite him still not having anything in his stomach to purge. His mouth is dry and sour but the thought of even rinsing it out makes his stomach churn.
He opens his texts. It takes a long time to type a message. It's riddled with typos but his hands are shaking too badly to do any better. It's something along the lines of "where are you? i need you". Normally he wouldn't be so direct, but he's desperate.
Then the world is spinning, spinning, spinning. And then he’s asleep.
Every extra minute Seamus is sitting at this table he's nervous. But, he reminds himself for the thousandth time, Theo would've called if something was wrong. He's probably asleep. His phone has been silent all night, tucked in the pocket of his coat where it hangs from the back of his chair. He's glanced at it a few times, but nothing's come through.
Still, he promised Theo two hours. It's been four. And even if he leaves now, it'll be four and a half.
He's glad he came though. As much as it would've gone just fine without him, he has way more experience dealing with execs than Kelly does. Zeke even flew in from New York. The meeting started at a restaurant in the city and migrated to some random pub a few doors down after the execs were on their way.
At about 11 he goes to the bathroom and grabs his phone as an afterthought. There are absolutely no notifications, which seems strange.
Upon closer examination, he sees it's set to "do not disturb." He definitely did not set it to "do not disturb." He stops in the doorway of the bathroom as he sees the notifications flood in. 6 missed calls. Five unread texts. All from Theo. He has to stop himself from sprinting back to get his coat. He's immediately in panic mode.
Kelly, Zeke and a few other acquaintances from the label look up from their conversation.
"Whoa, what's up?" Zeke asks as Seamus throws on his coat with shaking hands.
"I just - It's an emergency," he manages to say. Zeke furrows his eyebrows but doesn't protest. Kelly huffs.
"Seamus, please. He can take care of himself," she says, and he freezes in place. Zeke looks very confused now.
"Theo?" Zeke interjects, but Seamus doesn't bother responding.
"I told him I'd be home at 8 and it's 11 and he's been trying to call me since 10. I don't know why my phone…" He trails off. He can barely think straight. Kelly crosses her arms and looks at Zeke, whose lips are pressed into a line. "What?"
"Well, we agreed it'd be best if there weren't any distractions," Kelly says. Seamus isn't someone who ever really gets angry, per se, but he's angry right now. Furious. But everyone is staring at him now, and it'll only look unprofessional if he loses his shit. He turns his gaze to Zeke, who looks extremely guilty.
"I didn't know something was wrong, I-" He starts and Seamus clenches his jaw. He starts to stammer out a reply before realizing that every minute he spends here is one minute he's wasting.
"I'll see you guys Monday," he says, trying to keep his voice as even as possible, ignoring the shouts of his name as he leaves.
He tries to call Theo. It rings, but there's no answer. He calls again. Still nothing. He's going about 20 over the speed limit, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. When he walks into the house he doesn't even bother taking off his coat or shoes.
"Theo?" He calls. No answer. He knows logically that Theo's not dead, but the panic in his chest does not seem to know that.
He stops in the doorway of the bedroom. Theo's on the floor, half curled up, shaking like a leaf. Seamus is frozen for a moment before he rushes to him.
Theo's skin is hot - so ungodly fucking hot - and so incredibly pale. Seamus shakes his shoulder lightly, and though Theo moans softly, he doesn't open his eyes.
"Teddy?" Seamus asks, running his hand up and down Theo's arm. Theo's eyelids flutter, and another small sound of pain escapes his chapped lips. Seamus taps his cheek gently. "Teddy, baby."
Theo's eyes finally open, only halfway but enough for Seamus to know he's conscious. When his gaze lands on Seamus's face he lets out a sobbing breath.
"Shh, you're ok," Seamus murmurs, trying to keep his voice steady. He lifts Theo so he's sitting upright, almost all his weight on Seamus. His forehead rests on Seamus's shoulder, his breathing shallow and labored through sobs. He smells like vomit and sweat, and his hands are immediately clinging to Seamus's shirt. "I’m gonna lift you up, alright?"
Theo doesn't reply, but Seamus wasn't necessarily asking for permission.
He maneuvers Theo's limp body so he can pick him up, and tries to ignore the spike of panic when all of his body is pressed against him. He's on fire, trembling, letting out little whimpers of pain at every movement. Theo doesn’t cry like this. Ever. And it’s making Seamus very nervous.
He's glad he works out enough to squat 250, because Theo is only a little over half that. He doesn't bother trying to get his shorts off before placing him in the bathtub, his long legs bent in the small space. Seamus turns on the water and rummages to find the thermometer.
Theo doesn't even make a sound as the cold water hits his skin, and doesn't even seem to notice when Seamus slips the thermometer under his tongue. As the water rises and he waits for the thermometer to do its job, the guilt really starts to set in.
He should've been here. Instead, he was out at a bar, drinking and laughing and assuming everything was fine. He should have noticed his phone was fucked up, he should've left when he said he would. He doesn't know how bad the fever is exactly, but he would wager a guess that it's really fucking bad. Odds are all the vomiting made him dehydrated, which made his fever worse, which made the nausea worse, and around and around until they got here.
He takes one of Theo's limp hands, and with the other, calls Zeke. It's only a ring or two before he picks up.
"What's up?" He asks, and Seamus suddenly feels like he might cry.
"I think I need to take him to A&E." His voice is shaking.
"The-" He cuts Zeke off before he can finish.
"The ER."
"Ok, ok. Uh…" Zeke trails off, clearly flustered. The background noise of the bar softens and a door closes. Seamus cuts in again.
"Do we have anyone here who could come give an IV?" In New York, Theo has people who'll come to wherever he is and give him the basics without having to go to the actual hospital, but Seamus has no idea what's at their disposal in Ireland. He kicks himself for not thinking to find out before now.
"Uh, I can check. I'll call around. Maybe. Is he-"
"I might be able to get it- get the fever down, but he's really dehydrated, so…" Seamus trails off. "You have people here, right?"
"I mean, yeah. In theory. It's just-"
"Just find out what's faster. I can drive him to A&- the ER, or someone can come here. Either way, just find out what's quicker, ok?"
"Ok. I'll call you back in a few, just hang tight." He doesn't hang up just yet. "And I'm sorry, I never would've let Kelly have your phone if I knew what was going on."
"Well she shouldn't have my phone anyway."
"Right."
"Yeah. Just call me back when you know, ok?"
"Ok, hang tight."
The line goes dead and Seamus checks his watch before taking the thermometer out of Theo's mouth. 40.5. He stares at the reading for longer than he needs to, feeling the panic in his chest spike.
Theo’s eyelids are fluttering now, and the hand Seamus is holding tightens around his.
“Oh my God…” Theo breathes out, his voice ragged and thin. “Fuck.”
“You’re ok, you’re ok,” Seamus says, and dips his hand in the cool water before laying it on Theo’s forehead. A towel or washcloth would work better, but he can’t make himself move from this spot.
“Shay, I…” he murmurs, before trailing off, “I had the worst nightmare.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” he says back gently, wiping Theo’s chin. It’s taking so much effort to maintain this facade of calm, but he knows if he starts to freak out, it’ll only make things worse.
“I…In my dream…I kept calling you and calling you,” he mumbles, and Seamus is immediately sick to his stomach with guilt. “But you wouldn’t answer. And I was alone.”
It takes everything in him to speak around the lump in his throat.
"I'm here now," is all he manages to choke out. He can't bring himself to lie outright. He'll need to come clean eventually, but not now when Theo's still half delirious. "You've had your appendix out, right?"
Theo nods.
"Burst. In college.” Despite the cold water, Theo doesn't seem to be getting any cooler. He's not even shivering.
He's gathering Theo's hair into a little bun when Zeke calls him back.
“What did they say?” He asks, and Zeke sighs.
“They have people in Dublin, but they wouldn't be able to make it to you until tomorrow morning. I could call you a car but I think it'd just be faster for you to drive him in. If you feel like that's what he needs.”
It's a horrible drive. Then a horrible night.
When they drive home the next morning, Theo's still running a fever, but it's not as bad as it was. The insides of his arms and the backs of his hands are bruised - he was so dehydrated they had to jab him about ten times to find a vein for the IV.
He's able to walk inside from the car, which is a major improvement, but he collapses on the couch as soon as he walks in.
“I'm gonna make some tea, alright?” Seamus asks, carefully stroking some of his hair back from his face. Theo just nods, closing his eyes.
As he makes the tea, he knows he needs to tell him. Not today. No, he’ll wait, he thinks, and tries to convince himself it's for Theo’s benefit. He doesn't quite manage.
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felinetteagain · 11 hours
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Adrinette BREAK UP in season 6.
And Cat Noir is again “a partner like any other!”
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The problems of the main characters, which are likely to arise in season 6, have already been demonstrated to us in seasons 4 and 5.
First of all, the main problem in the relationship between Adrian and Marinette, Ladybug and Cat Noir will be the secrets of Marinette (Ladybug), as well as distrust. Cat Noir and Ladybug often quarreled over this in season 4.
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Cat noir:
- And take my Miraculous back when you're done! I won't waste your time anymore, I promise. (423)
- Maybe because you never talk to me about anything! (426)
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Cat Noir understood that Ladybug didn't need his help and was doing fine without him. This was the last straw for Cat Noir, after which he switched his interest to Marinette.
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Lady bug:
- I didn't listen to you, I lied to you, I kept you at a distance!
Is everything going to be different now? I think not. Because Ladybug has more secrets now. She would never have told Cat Noir who the Monarch was. And, accordingly, she will have to look for a new Hawkmoth in hot pursuit without the help of Cat Noir.
The difference between the situation in season 6 and seasons 4 and 5 is that now there is a person next to Lady Bug who knows all her secrets, her secret identity and has a high level of intelligence. Such a person in the team is very important and necessary for her, he can replace all other team members with his presence.
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How do you think knowing this, how will the Cat Noir behave? Of course, he will be jealous and angry at his opponent. From here, feelings for Lady Bug can also wake up. Is not it so? Jealousy and anger can provoke the Cat Noir and he can take out his evil on Argos. Because the Cat Noir is not good at controlling his anger. And he cannot come to terms with the situation when Ladybug replaces him with someone.
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As for Adrinette, things are also not as rosy as many would like. In season 5, Adrien already voiced Luka about his problems in his relationship with Marinette.
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Adrien:
- It's like there's something inside that she... can't get out, like a secret side that wants to remain hidden.
- I wonder also if you could love someone fully when you don't know them completely 💥. (513)
After Felix told Marinette the story of his and Adrien's birth and all the other secrets about Gabriel, Marinette has a whole carload of secrets that she cannot share with Adrien under any circumstances.
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And all because this was Gabriel’s last request before his death, and also because Adrian will not be able to adequately accept this truth.
We have all seen perfectly well what distrust and secrets can lead to on the example of the relationship between Alya and Nino. Even the greatest love can't stand a lie.
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That's why I think Adrinette can't have a future as a couple, and LadyNoir can't have a future as partners.
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kaymarie-bell · 5 months
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TWST Book 7 Chapter 6 spoilers and reactions ahead
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You know, through all the updates people have been wondering "where is OB Malleus? is he seeing the dream too? why is he not interfering despite our group being 'awake'? does he even know about all of this?" it might seem crazy what I'm about to say-
This update started with a banger giving us Baul knighting Sebek and giving him an armor that's just like his after fighting off the Silver Owls together
Btw I'm currently on a mission of stealing all the gel in NRC to keep Sebek from putting his hair up again. If you care.
Silver carrying an injured Lilia on his back while Yuu and Grim look after the egg instead of leaving him behind like he asked. I'm ok I'm ok.
Sebek got to show off his UM training. I'm so proud of him 🥹
They killed my hot wife.
Fighting as Meleanor vs The Knight of Dawn felt so sick and twisted knowing what the outcome was.
FUCK THE SENATE. TF YOU MEAN "Filthy bat" "Don't touch Malleus" "get out of the capital and don't show up here again" I'm genuinely upset, what the fuck leave Lilia alone 😭
Maleficia's magic was not helping with hatching the egg, and touch and love is more effective so of course the responsibility falls on Lilia. Huh, who would've thought-
Lilia and the egg communicating. Did y'all see that. Is anyone else being totally normal about it.
Meleanor knew what she was doing when she left her child to Lilia.
Also what do you mean his own grandmother couldn't provide him the love he needed to hatch? 👀
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Lilia's numerous travels around the world were all to find something to help hatch the egg. And he got discriminated against by both humans and fae everywhere oh I'm so sick-
Egg!Malleus feeling lonely even before hatching. Lilia being the only one who hears him crying. Lilia running to him despite it being dangerous. 😭
HE DISCOVERED HIS SIGNATURE SPELL WHILE SEARCHING FOR A WAY TO HATCH THE EGG. THE SPELL THAT BEST REFLECTS THE ESSENCE OF HIS SOUL IS THE ONE HE USES FOR BOTH MALLEUS AND SILVER. Shaped like a father fr.
Oh so the egg seems to gain strength only whenever Lilia shows up around it? What a coincidence I wonder what could this mean
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Lilia's VA did a phenomenal job. I started ugly crying too. The 200 years were worth it to Lilia 😭😭😭
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*Silver voice* I'm sure we were all wondering, "if these dreams are supposed to be happy then why have we seen nothing but pain and suffering so far?" well, it turns out Malleus being born is his happiest moment in life.
not a single thought behind that baby's eyes (he's 1 minute old)
Leona was right he sure *is* a lizard
not the senate suddenly praising Lilia as a hero 😒 I haven't forgotten what y'all said earlier.
Oh shit OB!Malleus is back. I got so caught up in the euphoria of seeing Malleus' birth that for a moment I forgot about overblots.
Malleus has his mom's looks and his dad's voice according to general Lilia
OB!Malleus is absolutely pissed at his grandma and the senate. Good for him.
Malleus offering Lilia a dream where Meleanor and Levan are alive...
If anyone is wondering "how are we supposed to win a battle against OB!Malleus?" the answer is: you don't. We only survive 😔 (for now ig)
Silver is able to secure the entire group in his arms. So normal about it haha.
SON IS BACK.
IDIA IS AWAKE LET'S GO GAMERS LMAO
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we have reached 100 chapters. I can't wait to see what Idia's victory strategy is going to be
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miharuhebinata · 2 years
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OK WAIT INSANE 6 AM RAMBLE INCOMING THAT IS ALSO SORT OF(?) RELATED TO MY PREVIOUS POST?? ok so like, we've all pretty much convinced ourselves that will is going to have a coming out scene at some point in volume 2, right? or at the very least we've convinced ourselves that he's going to confess his feelings to mike, even if he just strongly hints at it & never says it outright. basically my point is that everyone (and by everyone i mean those of us on tumblr & also what i would assume to be a large chunk of the general audience, maybe?), a lot of our focus has been fixated solely on will. not entirely ofc, but for the most part. but what if it's all been a red herring this whole time? not that he's gay, because obviously he is. but what if, just hear me out, WHAT IF. this whole time the big reveal that we've been building up to isn't that will is gay (& in love with mike), but that mike is gay (&, presumably, in love with will)????? 😮🤯😮🤯
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( ...... yes i know i sound insane, especially in the tags, but once you think about it a bit? & when you're sleep-deprived?? idk man, it kinda starts to make some sense 👀🤔🔍 )
#plus this idea would work perfectly with the idea of will becoming a bigger part of the plot again either in vol 2 or season 5??#like aside from those that are just the dumbest most heteronormative motherfuckers alive the audience already knows he's in love with mike.#we don't necessarily need textual &/or verbal confirmation to come to that conclusion#(although it would be nice if only so those aforementioned heteronormative weirdos would never be able to deny it without#actively burying their heads in the sand & looking stupid). you know who's side we DO still need to see though? mike's.#we still have yet to get a good look at what's going on inside his head. who knows what thoughts are rolling around in there?#remember his character is supposed to have some big emotional monologue coming up soon. could it be a sweeping declaration of love toward#el? yeah ofc. but the point is at this moment we really have zero clue for sure! it could just as easily be a coming out scene ya know?#& to get back to my point about this working well with the idea of will getting mixed up in actual plot. well since we already know how he#feels they could have his character focus more on that meanwhile mike becomes a bit more introspective.#how should he tell will? *can* he tell will? is it worth it? what about their friendship? it's such a hugely monumental thing to have to#deal with. is he even ready? how are you supposed to know if you're ready?#.....ok i'm legit making myself emotional now. time to pack it in girlies#i can already tell i'm gonna be so embarrassed rereading this when i wake up but i promise i won't delete 😩😭#anyway hope you all enjoyed my insane wishful thinking <33333#mike wheeler#will byers#p: the best thing i've ever done#stranger things#st spoilers#📺 tag#send tweet
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inkskinned · 7 months
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what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?
i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?
a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?
in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.
girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.
there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.
for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.
something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.
is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.
most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."
a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.
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mariamlovesyou · 5 months
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tuned into Plestia's live with Rahma Zein's second account (she got shadowbanned). key moments:
plestia talked about her adjustment to living in australia. "it's 1:30am now and it's normal for me and many palestinians who live abroad to be awake hours into the morning. i am scared of sleeping. because of the time difference, i'm scared if i sleep i will wake up to bad news. in gaza i was scared of the sound of the bombs, here i am scared of the quiet."
contacting family and friends in gaza is near impossible. "sometimes i feel like a crazy person, calling 20 times in a row hoping that on the 21st time the call might go through."
on the destruction of entire communities and neighbourhoods: "i'm scared when i go back to gaza i won't recognise it anymore. someone sent me a picture of my neighbourhood, and i couldn't tell it was mine at first. all my favourite places, cafes where the aunties used to give me extra food and ask about my day, have been destroyed. i dread looking at my gallery or seeing snapchat memories because most of these people in the pictures are no longer alive."
rahma asked plestia to talk about one story that stuck with her. plestia said "i remember walking one time on the 'safe corridor', that's what they called it anyway, and i saw an older woman clutching onto a donkey cart where her son's body was, refusing to let go of it. i asked my colleague what the smell was, he said it's dead bodies under the rubble. it was the first time i familiarised myself with the smell. the son's body was decaying and the woman told me about cats and animals eating away at it. i've had children talk to me about birds eating away at their parents' decomposing bodies and not being able to chase them away."
"it seems so silly to go to hospitals for minor sicknesses now. i can't even think about how many palestinian children are going to be terrified of hospitals now. there was a girl who was taken to the hospital to get treatment for injuries by one of the bombs, and while she was in the bathroom another bomb landed nearby. the impact from that sent the ceiling crashing down on her.. she got another injury while getting treated for her first one."
"i hate how people talk about our resilience - as if it's okay that this is happening to us. we are only surviving because we have to, because we have no other choice."
rahma brought up the way family homes are set up in palestine and asked plestia to elaborate. "basically, there are floors. someone will live on the ground floor, and then their married son lives with his children on the floor above them, and then their successors above them and so on. so when family homes are targeted, they wipe out entire families. many families officially no longer exist."
"i used to wear my journalist helmet and vest all the time, felt naked without it, even slept with the vest on sometimes until i realised it only made me more of a target. they didn't give me any protection, only headaches and back pain."
"i am an optimistic person, i loved covering sweet sentimental things, like at my graduation asking parents of top graduates how they feel about their children graduating. that's what i love reporting on. i wanted to cover things like that when i came back to gaza, show the beautiful side of gaza that the media didn't really show, but i didn't have the chance." "do you think they'll give you right of return?" "i can only hope."
plestia mentioned how hard it was being a journalist with limited access to the internet, charging facilities, no mics, lack of equipment and how difficult it was uploading things. rahma asked her what's one story that wasn't really recorded or posted due to these constraints; plestia said "the evacuations. sometimes they informed us about them, sometimes they didn't. you have no idea how hard it was, everyone looking for their family members, making sure every one was there, taking to the streets in 5 minutes and not knowing which way to go. i remember i went to my friend's house for shelter for 30 minutes before the first evacuation was announced and we ran to another family's house, stayed there for 2 days before another evacuation was announced. me, my friend, and that family all evacuated together to another family's house. there were already so many people there seeking shelter, it wasn't just one family staying there. none of us knew how long we had in any place."
before october 7th, palestinians were used to limitations on electricity. plestia used to plan her day's tasks around when the electricity was working. "for example when the electricity was on from 12 to 4, i would say i will do my laundry and charge the phones during this time. life wasn't exactly 'normal', but all of us pray to have those days back in comparison to what we are experiencing now." plestia also said that cars are running on cooking oil now because there is no fuel.
on hygiene: "many pregnant women have to give birth without any pain medication or medical attention. once we ran out of medicine, that was it. women who had to get C-sections couldn't stay to recover or get followup treatments because someone else needed the bed. we have no water, no tissues, no pads, barely any bathrooms. in the shelter schools you have to wait an hour before even getting to use the bathroom because of how many people are there."
"something you don't hear about is how many people die because of sadness. there's so many ways to die in gaza, because of the bombardment, because of starvation, the lack of resources, but i also know many elderly people who died because their hearts couldn't take it anymore. i have been in gaza before and lived through 4 aggressions, but nothing compared to this one."
a recurring sentiment that was echoed in the video: "sometimes i thought to myself: who am i recording this for? because we've already shown everything, we've already talked about everything. everything has already been said, the proof is everywhere, nothing i talked about today is new." rahma said the first video posted about what's happening in palestine should've been enough.
she is 22 today. plestia's closing words: don't stop talking about us, don't stop boycotting, don't stop protesting, please don't get bored of fighting for palestine.
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