#˗ˏˋ 🫧 ꒰ IC. ꒱
@scrrowblue asked: ❛ can you show me how to fight? ❜
A sharp-toothed grin stretches across the rapper's visage, eyes teeming with mischief. He moves to plant a hand on Benjamin's shoulder, a firm nod of his head signaling his approval.
❝You bet, bud. Whaddaya wanna know? Wanna start with somethin' small?❞
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information about the writer . . .
໒꒰ྀི ⸝⸝⸝⸝ ꒱ྀིა 🌷 ʚĭɞ 𓄼 ͡ ˚⁎⁺˳
* 🩰 jen | language college student 🫧 ₊⌇
͙ࣳ ˚⁎. ˳ ⁺ ๑ est. ✰ nineteen ๑ ✩ ˑ ִ ֗ ༊ ֪ ࣪
𖧷˚ ༘ 𖥔 🎀 𓄹 ୨୧ ༘ ﻬ 🧚🏻♀️ ༘
ೃ࿔ ༝ ・ ˖ ⊹ 💭 ⭒˖ . ࿐ ૮ ๑ˊᯅˋ๑ აִ ꒰ ◌
♡ { hispanic/latina } ⊹
˟ ꒷꒦ 🍥 * 𖦹 ˗ ˏˋ she/her pronouns ˎˊ -
╭ ◜◝ ͡ ◜◝ ╮
( interests )
╰ ◟◞ ͜ ◟◞ ╯
˚ 。
likes: anything related to strawberry’s, asian pop, big older men, fashion, anime, picnics, rain, women, books, soft bread, 80/90’s music, iced coffee, vanilla/strawberry scent, kdramas, y2k everything, rings, pink, biege, cold weather, and pockys
dislikes: vv hot weather (i don’t like feeling icky), heights, hate obv, and mean/rude ppl
comfort movie: the chronicles of narnia: the lion, the witch and the wardrobe
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A young woman approaches you with a smile that borders on hysterical. Her demeanor is cheery, but you can tell by the way she carries herself that she's on edge, especially when she peers over her shoulder like she's being watched. She fidgets with the collar of her shirt, seeming nervous to speak, but she eventually gets the words out, voice soft and slightly shaky.
❝I'm sorry to be a bother, but could you pretend we know each other and walk with me for a little while? I think I'm being followed...❞
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@multistories, continued from here.
Bartholomew, stranded in unfamiliar territory, naturally locks eyes with the first thing he sees, his natural curiosity getting the better of him. Upon being spoken to in such a manner, his own lips twist into a confident grin, hands finding his hips. Despite the sudden tiredness he's feeling, he's not one to back down from a challenge.
❝Yeah? I'm not one for losin', so we'll just have to see.❞
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@mismxtchedmuses asked: A little tot toddles to Dexter and tries to insist on tugging on his hand or trousers, looking like she wants you to follow her.
XML looks down upon feeling a tiny hand grip his own, lifting an eyebrow curiously. He follows, tilting his head to the side.
❝What's up, kiddo? Somethin' ya need?❞
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@hazardsofspikesandnevadeans asked: Oooh dear. Someone had caught a certain maniac's attention. He was just watching though. No ill intent here, just curiosity.
XML raises an eyebrow, the feeling of being watched gnawing at his back. He glances over his shoulder, catching the other's gaze. He blinks.
❝You wanna take a picture, buddy? It'll last ya longer.❞
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@shecallsbs asked: ❝So… Not a lot going on today, Dad and Mom are off…❞
Lauren's voice trails off, and she peers over at Cheryl from where she’s currently perched on the couch.
❝...Wanna go out somewhere?❞
Cheryl has been lying on the couch for the past hour, bored out of her mind, scrolling through Twitter in pursuit of some form of entertainment. Aside from some cute cat memes, she hasn't found anything interesting, which earns a disappointed sigh. Her sister's voice, however, has her perking up immediately, the suggestion sending a flash of excitement across her face.
❝Oh, fuck yeah! Do you think Mom and Dad would be up for it?❞
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@scrrowblue asked: Ashtray. Your cigarette smokes as you extinguish it on the sender's skin.
The smoldering eyes of Frank Fairest burn almost as much as the cigarette he extinguishes on his son's skin, barely contained rage threatening to burst to the surface. A simple argument had escalated into this, over something relatively unimportant, but it was the disrespect that really set him off. Nobody disrespects Frank Fairest and tells the tale unscathed, especially not his flesh and blood. He clutches the snuffed out cigarette tightly, transferring the remnants of his anger into his grasp, a heavy sigh following the action. Callused hands tousle grayish blue locks, dark eyes burning holes into his son's.
A warning.
❝Y'know, I wouldn't have to do this if you'd just listen to me, sport.❞
The words flow from his mouth with little emotion, but for what it's worth, the anger is gone. Disappointment is left in its place.
❝You think I like teaching you this way? It hurts me much more than it hurts you. But you need to learn, and I have to teach you. That's just the way things are. Don't make me have to do that again.❞
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@scrrowblue asked: [ sick ] receiver cares for sender while they are sick (for Marilyn)
Pale, flushed cheeks, a runny nose, a sweat-covered face and a voice scratchier than sandpaper... yes, her little boy is certainly as ill as he claims to be. This simply won't do.
With a sigh that borders on disappointed, as if his illness is something he can control and is at fault for, Marilyn gestures toward her son's bed, guiding him back under his duvet with a sort of care that only seems to surface in times like these. She tucks him in, makes sure he's comfortable and shoves a hand under her chin, contemplating what to do next, because they can't have him staying in this condition for long. They've got things to do, he's got things to do, and she won't tolerate putting them on hold for longer than necessary.
❝Stay in bed, sweetie,❞ she says, her voice dripping with sickening sweetness. ❝Don't overexert yourself. Mama's going to make you some nice chicken noodle soup. Then, you can get some rest, and hopefully you'll be better by tomorrow. We don't want you missing anything important now, do we?❞
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A steady flow of blood drips from Blake's nose, his face marred with bruises, one eye blackened and swollen, no doubt by a fist. He beams nonetheless, grin spanning from ear to ear, showcasing sharp pearly whites in the process.
❝Heh, you should see the other guy!❞
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@antiiinnocence asked: WHAT'S UP, BLUEBALLS! WORD HAS IT PEOPLE ARE ALLOWED TO BEAT THE SHIT OUTTA YOU! BUT DONT WORRY. I'M A NICE GUY! SO I'LL GIVE YOU 10 SECONDS TO TELL ME WHY I SHOULDN'T DO THAT.
Frank blanches, craning his neck back to get a better look at who's addressing him. The entity is much larger than him, threatening him with violence and only offering him a short window of time to explain why he should be spared from said violence. He tugs at the collar of his shirt, swallowing thickly around the sudden lump in his throat. Who and what even is this thing?
❝I, err... Who are you exactly...? I don't even know you. What reason could you possibly have to threaten me? Is it money you want?❞
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Cheryl's just standing there with blood trickling out of her nose. Not a single care in the world, possibly not even a thought in her mind, just blinking one eye at a time as crimson trails down her face.
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@scrrowblue
A tentative looking Grace approaches, hands toying with the hem of her sweater, gaze fixated on anything but her friend's face. A week has passed since the incident at the mall, and a few months since their encounter at the train station, but the events of both keep playing in her head as if they'd just occurred, leaving her sick to her stomach. How could she have gone all these years unaware of how her best friend's parents really treated him? How could she have been so selfish? Had she simply turned a blind eye to it, or had their "love" been so convincing that she never noticed? Whatever the case, she's had a lot of time to think. There's so much she needs to say.
❝Um... hi, Benji,❞ she greets softly, trapping her upper arm in a vice grip. It's quite easy to tell she's nervous. She's not even sure if the boy wants to speak to her again after everything, not that she'd have the heart to blame him.
This isn't about her, though.
❝I just... I just, wanted to say I'm sorry. For everything. I-I had no idea that— i-if I had known, I'd have—! I'm... I'm so sorry.❞
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❝Y'all ever think about how tongues are just mouth slugs?❞
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@gildead asked: hi, frank. hi, marilyn. have you ever wondered how it felt to be valued as only a commodity, an extension of other people than yourself? to be treated as less than human? to be physically manhandled, used as a glorified ashtray? to truly understand how benjamin feels, experience every single bit of pain he's ever suffered at the hands of you two... physically and emotionally?
W O U L D Y O U L I K E T O ?
For the first time in many, many years, it's the Fairest duo's faces that are contorted in fear. They've gone too long inflicting pain and torment on their own flesh and blood, much too long without real consequence, shielded by faux smiles and blinding lights, hiding the truth beneath a veneer of perfection. You know what they say, karma's a bitch, and for these two, she's not only just biting back.
She's taking names.
Marilyn clutches her husband's upper arm, staring at the limbless boy in pure terror. Frank isn't faring any better, thoroughly taken aback by the boy's appearance and words, but his teeth are gritted. He attempts to keep his composure, squaring his shoulders and steeling himself before uttering a response.
❝You don't know anything, you... you frightful brat. Keep our names out of your mouth and mind your damn business.❞
Marilyn's nails dig into Frank's arm, earning a wince and a hiss of pain, and his attention. She shakes her head.
❝We were only doing what was best for him, for our family. Don't you DARE speak of things you know nothing about. You'd do well to mind your tongue.❞
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