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#tw scuicide
thefakeandthelost · 1 year
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"Omg your so lazy and all you do is hide in your room and I'm sick of it, and not only thar your bed and room are both a disaster."
Yea?, Well yk whose the sickest of it me, I can barely get out of bed to brush my teeth, or change my clothes. I just want the life that was fun and happy not the life where I cvt myself just to feel something, not the life where my emotions are bottled inside and the only way they escape is which anger.
So om sorry if I'm lazy and disappointing, some of us don't have amazing lives where we get up and say 'Let's make today amazing,' no I wake up and say 'I made it another day even though I know everyone wants me dead.'
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daily-tallyhall · 1 month
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rip penguin. you will be missed
source (warning flashing lights for later segment)
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benry-coinings · 1 year
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Can you do postal 1 theme pronouns ? :3
okay so requests r actually closed rn but!! i got 2 excited abt this idea and ended up doing a whole set of names and titles 2 OOPS. im normal abt Postal my bad.
x3c here u go lemme know if u want something different and modify them as u need mrow~
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General Themes:
Extermination, Murder, Gore, Grime, Sweat, Demons, Possession, Crumbling Sanity, Loss of Control, Blood, Fear of humanity, Fear of Self, Being a Danger to both yourself and others, etc.
Names:
Postal, Dude, Postal Dude, PD, D(a)emon, Lucifer, Flame, Ammo, Bullet, Trigger, Death, Reaper, Grim
Titles:
The Postal, The insane (one), The One without sanity, [pronoun]/The One who snapped, [pronoun] who kills, [pronoun] who tortures, [pronoun]/The One who runs with scissors, God's abandoned, God's hated, The Devil's adopted, The Devil's favorite, The possessed, Death's disciple, The blood covered/The One/[pronoun] who is covered in blood, The wounded, The hopeless, The gun lover, The weapon lover, The blood lover, The death lover, The gore lover, The Duelist(*), The scared (one), The Feared (one)
Pronouns:
Postal/postal/postals/postalself
Blood/bloody/bloods/bloodself
Gun/gun/guns/gunself
Shoot/shoot/shoots/shootself
Burn/burn/burns/burnself
Run/run/runs/runself
Sci/sor/scissors/scissorself
D(a)e/mon/D(a)emons/D(a)emonself
Ex/term/exterminations/exterminationself
Fear/fear/fears/fearself
De/lu/sions/Delusionself
In/sane/insanes/insanself
Boo/boom/booms/boomself
Fi/Fire/Fires/Fireself
Na/palm/napalms/napalmself
De/death/deaths/deathself
Par/Dise/Paradise/Paradiself
Mur/der/Murders/Murderself
Hos/tile/Hostiles/Hostileself
💥/💥/💥s/💥self
🔪/🔪/🔪s/🔪self
🩸/🩸/🩸s/🩸self
🪓/🪓/🪓s/🪓self
💣/💣/💣s/💣self
⚰/⚰/⚰s/⚰self
🧷/🧷/🧷s/🧷self
🔥/🔥/🔥s/🔥self
👁/👁/👁s/👁self
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*this is a bit of a personal 1 actually, it's something our Dude alt's late boyfriend used 2 call him<3
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Here take this,
youtube
a German silent film from 1919.
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melody-chan333 · 9 months
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If I may, I’d love to hear the story behind your Totino and Pizzahead AU!
(TW: Death, Murder, Violence, Suicide)
Well, to sum it up...
Totino made an experiment that separates good and evil personalities, and when he tested it, he turns into Pizzahead. some time after Pizzahead caused some murders, he turns back to Totino. Totino became very frightened that people, especially his friends and family, would accuse Totino for what happened, so he ran home. The next day, Totino went on a stroll, and when he is asked if he knows who Pizzahead is and how he got there, he just walks off without an answer. One night, while Totino is asleep, he then met Pizzahead in person, and as this confrontation (This is the comedy police! The pun's too funny!) goes on, it ended with Totino waking up in fear.
Totino could still hear Pizzahead's voice in his head, and he couldn't even sleep. He then explained to his friends, Peppino, Gustavo, and The Noise, about what happened to him. They gave Totino advices that might not work. Totino finds himself therapists, they gave him advices that might not help as well. One night, the Vigilante found Totino, and thought he was Pizzahead, so he tried to shoot him, but Totino's brother, Jeno, took the bullet and dies. Totino runs away, and is now slowly going insane.
Totino turns into Pizzahead and then he continues on a killing spree. He killed Gustavo, he killed the Noise, he killed Pepperman, and he killed the Vigilante. But lastly and most important of all, he killed Totino's best friend, Peppino. Totino could not handle this torture anymore, so he finds Vigilante's gun. Totino found it, and instead of listening to Pizzahead, he shot himself, ending this eternal nightmare once and for all.
And that's the story.
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blorbobutworse · 2 years
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Check tags for tw rq
When logan has two types of breakdowns
1st, the emotional, loud, rages that he does, attacking people who hurt those he loves, hitting and Fighting
2nd, suuuuper self destructive. See how much alcohol and knives it takes to kill him. These are the worst, because his mind normally starts forgetting why he attempted to kill himself after the first three times. That often just accelerated his desperation until he passes out
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felt-squirrels · 1 year
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I absolutely hate it when someone makes a statement on a tumblr post and said statement is controversial, and yes can be wrong but they don’t deserve to get messages telling them they’re a piece of shit or to kill themselves.
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killvent · 2 years
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i imagine it like a toy
the clack of plastic hard against my teeth
hands shaking so much
barely able go keep my grip
it presses my tongue down with a weight
decidedly
not plastic
its cold and metal
there's a finality to it
and finally my mouth is filled
on my own accord
i can only taste metal now
i will taste metal forever
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ellievalk · 2 years
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I wanna end myself
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blurring-ramblimgs · 1 year
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I'm not suicidal I did not try to kill myself.
I remember the memories of that night clearly. The song I played as my 12 year old self found it too hard to continue on. The night was the same as it had been those many times before. I wasn't struggling, not really. It was just the only night where I found I didnt care if my mother found me on the couch, dead and cold to the touch.
I cant imagine doing that to her anymore.
I didnt attempt.
I mean, sure by all definition and means I did attempt, I did down those pills with the intention to simply not exist a few hours later.
By definition, the dictionary says I did.
I find the dictionary lacks some things within it sometimes.
I didnt attempt, I remind myself as I stumble across a poem about being passively suicidal.
I didnt attempt I assure myself as I remember writing down that note.
I didnt attempt I yell at myself because I barely even felt ill after.
I didnt attempt because there is no feeling behind what I did.
There was no sadness, no sorrow no grieving no anger. My memories arent even from a first person perspective. Ive detached myself so far from those memories it feels like a dream.
It wasnt an attempt.
It was too weak of one to count.
Attempts are supposed to be out of desperation right?
I didnt attempt.
I didnt.
I did not.
I think that, the idea that I didnt is far simpler to accept then facing the thought that I did.
That scares me
Not alot of things scare me now, but that scares me.
That thought scares me more than death.
How ironic.
I feel bad for it.
I feel bad for making my parents cry because I was too weak to handle the life they gifted me with.
They didnt do anything wrong
Im sorry for making you cry mom, dad.
I don't deserve your tears, not because of my mistakes.
Sometimes I find my thoughts drifting to self harm. Ive never done it before, ive been too much of a wimp to actually try. Thoughts of cutting myself pop into my brain and the image projects itself onto my arms as I stare at my hands and wonder the best place to put them so I could hide them easily.
Im not Scuicidal. Not anymore.
But sometimes those thoughts still haunt me. And im scared.
And that's a good thing.
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a-bit-dapper · 4 months
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incorrect textposts: miscellaneous edition
the first batch
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ares-in-heart · 5 months
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THE ROT CONSUMES
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shxhye · 12 days
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TW: sh
whenever sh lingers on my mind for too long my skin starts itching and i feel weird, like only thing thatll make it go away is to act on my thoughs
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0-rai · 3 months
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Henry offed himself...
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cherry-pop-elf · 26 days
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Hello! So, I hope this request is okay to ask, if not, I'm so sorry!!! (Especially as it is a triggering topic) --- TW ‼️‼️ healing from SA
I was wondering about a fic with george where the reader (gender neutral but afab anatomy) has maybe been put through something in the past (left ambiguous), and essentially is just ready to try more intimate stuff with george, and is able to just fully enjoy themself with him? Like a healing sort of thing?
I know this request is kinda different. I've seen your other posts about sensitive topics and thought they were great, and I checked to see what you are/aren't okay with (I hope I didn't get it wrong, if I did, I'm very sorry!), so I thought I'd send this in. I just thought it'd be a healing read! BUT, I understand that it's still sensitive, so totally no worries if that's the case!
Also, I hope this isn't too specific???? I apologise if it is!!!!
I hope that you're having a lovely day ^^
((Sorry it took so long! It’s been finals season, and since it’s such a heavy topic I wanted to be in a good headspace to work on it. Ya know?))
As someone who suffers from self harming ((I have an issue where I just scratch myself and my arms get scratched like crazy. They are vertical, so no one thinks they are ‘real’ self harming scars 🙄)) so writing George on a topic like this would be very comforting to me as well. Thank you for being so brave in asking 🫂 I’m so proud of you for speaking! This will be lovely
Kissable
George Weasley X AFAB reader
Warnings: 18+, heavy talks about Self Harm and Suicidal Ideations, gentle sex, lots of fluff and kisses, body positivity, disabilities, Umbridge, Fred gets to live because we need to lighten this heavy topic, lots of gentleness, wizarding war typical angst, deafness, body dysmphroia, it’s gonna be heavy and descriptive but also there is plenty of comfort to balance. Not sugar coating comfort. Sugaring coating can be so annoying. Trust me. I know
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Life sure was different, when the war finally ended. The stress of it all was off everyone’s shoulders. The world was finally able to move forward. Death wasn’t at the doorstep. Life was suppose to be happier, but you still felt like it wasn’t. That you were holding yourself back. That even the battle of Hogwarts didn’t shake you back to reality. You felt bad, and George noticed.
“S’matter, jellybean?” He asked you, as he leaned himself against the railing. Having seen you space out again. Happened alot, but he noticed it more than ever now. As if he wanted to leave you to be stressed after all. This should be a happy time, but somehow it wasn’t.
“Just….Thinking.” You muttered, as you played with the end of your sleeves. You could hear him sigh, a deep one, as he watched. As if he knew something. Something you wish he didn’t. Seemed such a worry was made a reality, when you were both suddenly apparated into his office. A place for privacy, after all.
He’s been suspicious, but a constant wizarding war tends to take your mind off things. Along with busy with a school year, and starting up a business. Made any doubts get overrun with work, and stress, get covered. Not today, though. Not today.
“Love, we need to have a talk. A serious one, please.” That made your heart drop, as he would motion you to join him on the couch. You felt so terrified, as you were forced to sit next to him on it. Now having your hands held by his.
“You know I love you, and I want to take care of you. I love you so very much. We’ve been through so much together. You’ve been there for me, and I want to be there for you. You know that, right?” He asked, as you gave a sheepish nod. Wondering where this was going, but deep down knew he figured it out. He’s had it figured out for a while.
He’s not stupid, after all. You could only hide something like this for so long. Why you never turned on the light, how you used Umbridge as an excuse for anything that was accidentally seen. How you always wore long sleeves, even when going to bed. If you could hide your body, you did. But now? George could understand that pain, and he wasn’t having you suffer in silence anymore.
“Love, it’s ok. You know that, right? I’m not here to judge, or make fun of ya. Gonna be the last person to do that. I mean, look at me. Look at Billy boy. We know a thing or two about getting roughed up.” He tried to not directly say what he wanted to say, in a means to let you be the one to say it. To let YOU be in charge of it.
After the war, he just wasn’t the same. When Fred went in that coma, oh he was in utter hell. He was already recovering from his ear. Now he had to spend every day, wondering if his twin would live or die. How Umbridge caught wind of such a thing, and tried to pull something. Like trying to say Bill was qualified under the Werewolf laws. Oh life was hell, and he had to project somehow. Not the same as you, but to say there wasn’t a taste is an understatement.
“George, I really don’t want to talk about this-“ You tried to weasel out, but his grip on your hands only tightened. The sadness in his eyes left you frozen in place. He wanted to take care of you, and make sure you knew you were safe with him. Such a complicated mess it all was. Just made you feel worse, if anything.
“Love….Let me see you. Please. Let me see all of you. You see me, can I see you?” He tried, and your tears just welled up more. You couldn’t understand why he was doing this. Why he cared. Your brain just didn’t accept that people can love you. It’s hard to grasp.
“This is different-“ You tried. “Why is it different?” He rebutted. “It just is. It’s different when I do it-“ How the brain was complex, and a pain in the ass to have. Luckily, George knew a thing or two about them. You learn alot when running a joke shop. Kids come to you with so many problems. You learn things you don’t want to.
“I don’t want to force you, but I can’t have you suffer like this anymore. I’m not doing this to hurt you, Jellybean. You were there when I lost my ear. When I thought I was going to lose Fred. Umbridge, everything. Let me be there for you-“ He begged, as he forced your hand onto the side of his head.
Your palm would feel over the scars from the Potion Master Made Spell. How deep they were, and never seemed to properly heal. How familiar the texture was. The smoothness of cut flesh, as he no longer could hear. The lines that cut into his hair, cheek, and even face. It was nothing like what Bill suffered, but it hurt. Hurt no longer being identical.
With a shakey breath, you gave in. Ready to accept him screaming at you in disgust. To say all the mean things people have said to you before. Attention seeker, that you need to make them deeper already, that you look like a cutting board. Every insult, every mean remark. All of it. You accepted your fate, as you rolled up your sleeves.
The air was silent, but it wasn’t heavy. No, it was calm. Like the air was clear. For once, the weight was gone. You couldn’t understand why there was such a feeling of peace. Why wasn’t he looking at you with disgust? With hate? Why was he smiling?
“Hm, kinda remind me of Charlie. He’s got ink like crazy, same for Bill. You’ve seen them. Bills got these protection ruins, and Charlie has as many dragons as possible. You would look good with sleeves.” He smiled, as he gently held your wrist. Truly looking at them, and not flinching at all. He was looking at you. And wanting to make you feel like there was a chance you didn’t have to hide. That you were the center of it all. Not the scars. Not even asking why you had them. He didn’t need to know. He just wanted to know if you knew he could keep you safe.
The fact he started to kiss them was what had you sob. He was kissing something you hated so much. He was accepting it as a part of you. This was just what was part of your life. Your struggles. Your fears. Your hate. He was accepting that, because he loved you. You were what he cared about. Not what people thought.
It was such a tender moment, as you were able to let yourself cry. Let yourself have that good, needed, cry. All the while George took care of you. Kissing your scars, and holding you close. Just wanting you to know you were safe with him. Not rushing you. You never rushed him when he bursted into tears, no matter how random it was. So, you deserved that attention all the same.
“George…You know how I said I wanted us to wait until we were married?” You asked him, as you wiped your eyes. He would brush them aside, as well, as he nodded to you. Keeping his eyes glued with yours, as he tried to show you his full attention.
“It was kinda a lie. I didn’t want you to see me….But I think I’m ready now. I think you can see me now.” You consented, as he smiled. Clearly proud of such a big step. His pride made you want to cry more. There was no shame, or doubt, in those big brown eyes. He didn’t see you as any less, as before the topic was broached. It was as if you simply dyed your hair. It’s still you, under it all.
“I’ve been waiting for this, and I was willing to wait for never even.” He chuckled, as he kissed your cheek. Another reminder he was there for you. Not for some end goal. There was no end goal, with love. There was a continue. A continue for as long as the hearts wanted.
With a gentle kiss to your lips, the two of you were side alonged back into your shared flat. Fred would be able to handle the shop just fine, after all. It’s near closing anyway. With how close those two were, you wouldn’t be surprised if he knew where George went. Even as far as why.
“I’ve always wanted to see you. So badly.” He sighed, as he kissed you again. Gentle, and sweet. Not this heated passion in the books or movies. Just tender, and making sure you were taken care of. In every sense of the word. This was love, not sex.
Just gentle kisses, shared between you two, as he helps remove your clothes. Allowing more and more of you to be seen on the surface. Every cut, bruise, stretch mark, imperfection, whatever you had. He was able to finally see it all, and wouldn’t stop kissing each little dot on your skin.
It was so scary. Scary to allow him. He was so proud of you to allow him. To allow him to witness you whole. He was so damn proud. Couldn’t stop his kisses all over your skin. Along with a few little playful ones, like right on your nose. Just wanting to make you smile. Know that you were safe. No matter how vulnerable you were. You allowed him to feel safe, when he lost so much. It’s a crime to not return the favor.
Open mouth kisses would trail over your body, as he helped you lay down on the bed. Slow, sweet, and savoring it. Understanding just how important it all was. No need to rush. No need to treat it as a one and done. This a moment to share, between two people who loved each other. So very very very much.
“You really are beautiful. I know I know. I can say it all I want, but I mean it-!” He whined at the end, making you smile. Ever playful, no matter the mood. Was very soothing. Made any heavy topic easier to deal with. He just made life easier, and his smile could sooth any coals under your feet.
There was one more little kiss to your nose, before he finally allowed himself to strip. His own body full of scars from so many things. War, failed experiments, Umbridge, death eaters, blood purest’s, friends turned enemies, the list goes on. Those scars felt different to you. He didn’t ask for them, yet wasn’t ashamed of them either. The mind can truly be so warped, but George was always one to be fascinated by the world. Willing to dive into that hellscape you call a brain, because you are in there after all.
“You are so beautiful.” He just kept on saying, before his naked body was pressed against yours. Playful little kisses were pressed all over your face, as your skin felt his. Felt his scars on yours, yours were felt on his. Just pure skin contact, as he was holding you close. Loving every little part of you. If it was you, he loved it. Scars and all.
“I’m ready when you are. And if ready is never, eh. Who gives a shit?” He would place another kiss to your nose, before your hands were around his neck. You were trying to mentally psych yourself up, and he was more than happy to wait. Happy to just admire you. Big ole Brown eyes, and a freckled smile.
“Yeah. I’m ready.” You nodded, as he gave you another kiss. One arm was used to prop himself up, as the other found your slit. Just being very gentle, and stroking it. Not yet intruding, but just taking it nice and slow. He was no virgin, after all. But you were, and he was going to treat you right.
Slow, steady, and calculated. A man who was that of an inventor. He knew how to move his fingers. Gentle over your slit, almost ghosting it even. Made you crave more, in such a simple gesture. Those rough fingers on such a sensitive part of your body. All exposed to him.
A kiss to your neck was given, as he finally slipped them in. Had you shiver, but he kept planting kisses on you. Easing you into such a feeling you were growing costumed to. How you always loved his big and rough hands. Always brought you comfort. Now they were bringing you pleasure.
“You already feel so wonderful. Bloody amazing.” He whispered, as he would kiss along your jaw. Just two fingers pushing in and out of you. His thumb even working at your clit, and it had you whimper a bit. Such new stimuli, but he was keeping it slow and gentle. Easing you into it.
“Don’t be shy. I can only hear so much, have mercy on me.” He teases, as it helped bring you back to earth. That this isn’t just sex. You were making love with someone you love. Made you smile, as he kissed the corner of your mouth. Drinking in the soft little breaths you left for him, before he snuck a third finger in.
“Oh you are going to feel so bloody good. I just know it. I can hardly wait any longer.” He moaned for you, as he was picking up his speed. That earned him more sounds from you, as your walls were coating his fingers. Showing you were enjoying yourself, when your voice was lost.
“Are you ready, or was this enough for one day?” More reassurance. That even now, when he’s so close to getting his turn at pleasure, he wanted you to know it didn’t matter. You matter. Almost made you cry.
“I’m ready, Georgie. I mean it. For once, I’m ready.” You would cup his face, and admired him. Those warm eyes, that imperfect unsymmetrical face. Those freckles, those scars, and that beautiful toothy smile. That’s your man, and he was all yours. Never thought you deserved such a wonderful man in your life. In this moment though? You finally accepted it. Even if it was temporary, you were able to fight your brain long enough to say you deserved this man. Seemed George could even see it in your eyes, as he pulled you into a deep kiss.
The tip of his cock felt so hot. As if he was just twitching in need. Had you feel so beautiful. Beautiful to know he was that excited to be with you. Hard to fake a feeling like that, after all. That feeling of a throbbing cock. Just hungry to finally feel you. Feeling you, he did. Finally slipping inside, as you pulled him closer. Moaning into his mouth, as the gesture is returned.
You swore he might be feeling more pleasure from it than yourself. There was a morbid comfort in that. Knowing your body could do such a thing. Ever after so much, it could still do good. Made your body relax, and had you enjoy the ride all the better.
The feeling of his hips meeting yours, and how he rolled them. Feeling those hip bones against your soft flesh. It just itched a scratch you didn’t know you had. Feeling this slender man above you, with his arms tense. Those muscles showing themselves off to you. Freckled and scared. So beautiful to you.
The moans he gave you had you drunk. They sounded so good. You swore you could get off from them alone. The feeling of him moaning into your mouth, as he kept rolling his hips into yours. Fingers tangled together, as you both just enjoyed each other. No need for words. Just embracing what your bodies wanted. The feeling of connection, and love.
It was like a beautiful dream. Nothing else mattered, in that moment. Just the two of you. Making love, and enjoying each other’s company. To feel the air grow heated, and sweat build between you both. How those easy rolls grew in speed, and had you both gasping each other’s names. Fingers holding on tighter to each other, as if afraid to melt into nothing.
“You feel so good-“ He spoke so breathlessly, as he would keep thrusting into you. All the while you moan openly for him. Your hands were trapped under his own, and you would give him squeezes of delight into those callused fingers. Allowing yourself to be louder. A mixture of allowing yourself to enjoy it, and a need to make sure he could hear how much you were indeed enjoying it. It’s the least you can do. Small acts go a long way, and you witnessed such first hand tonight.
“I don’t think I’m going to last much longer-“ He admits, sounding so embarrassed. It was cute. He was always so cute. Had you smile, and he smiled back. Your smile seemed to comfort his blushing cheeks, as you two returned another kiss. A kiss, as his hips begun to thrust in an uneven pattern. Had you whimper for him, as he kept true to his word. He didn’t last any longer, and he was soon moaning your name into your mouth. Tangling it in your tongue, and his.
The heat inside felt so satisfying. To let yourself ride a high, and have it be with him. How your legs couldn’t stop themselves, and wrapped around him. Needing to have him as close as your bodies could allow it. As if needing to become one. It was truly like being a fire work. A burst of pleasure, and sounds. It all felt so good, and it truly did feel like it filled a void in your heart that you didn’t know you had.
Coming down from the high was treated slowly. The both of you savoring it. With him holding you, as he stayed where he was. His head snuggled into your neck, as you played with his hair. Your turn in giving him the gentle comfort. Allowing him to use his working ear to enjoy your breathing, and heart. No need to worry about words. Just gentle affection. Embracing each other, and enjoying a moment of existing.
“Worth the wait-?” You asked, as you two were finally in a more clear headspace. He took a moment to think, as he pulled out you. Had you whine, as you liked the feeling. That made him chuckle, as he was soon pulling a blanket over you both.
“Yes. Very much worth the wait.” He would reassure you, as he was now your big spoon. Making sure you felt safe, in yet another vulnerable moment. His legs tangled with yours, as he wrapped his arms around you. Giving you a hug, as he pressed his face in your neck. Enjoying your scent.
Tears slipped down your cheeks, but not out of sadness anymore. But pure relief. You will still have your dark days, but you had a bundle of sunshine to stay there. Stay, and wait, for when you could speak again. He wouldn’t leave you behind when things got rough. He was making sure of that. Not even processing how much this simple act of spoon was bringing such joy. He existed, and it made you existing easier.
“Love you, Georgie.” You said, as you stole a hand to kiss. His own lips returned the gesture, as they were right on your cheek. “Love you more, Jellybean.” He yawned.
That comfort of another body, it was just what you needed. For once, in a long time, you weren’t scared to fall asleep. You were happy to sleep. To get rest, even excited to wake up again. Because you knew one thing, and one thing that changed everything.
He would be there when you woke up, and that was what mattered. He would be there, every time you woke up, and sometimes that’s all it takes to make you wake up.
Your sunshine, always there when the rain clouds came. Always there, and will never leave.
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crows-and-crumbs · 7 months
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Aftg time travel AU idea in my brain I can’t really let go of
Classic “everyone gets sent back to the start of the first book” but they still have their memories right?
Anyways, everyone has an awful time:
Andrew is back on the drugs and Drake is still alive, Proust is still alive everything is awful.
Neil is on the run again, back in Millport, his dad is alive, Riko is alive, that’s awful to.
Seth is alive and Allison is fucking reeling.
Riko is alive and I don’t have to tell you how that impacts Kevin.
However, what I want to talk about is Jean and Jeremy.
Like the two of them, waking up in the past, and Jean is right back in his own personal hell at the nest. Right back under Riko’s thumb.
Jeremy is fine in his little Trojan paradise, except for the knowledge that Jean is in hell, a hell that he’s expressed he’s rather kill himself than ever return to.
The absolute fear and rush Jeremy’s in to get to him, to fix it, to save him, knowing that Jean is running on fucking fumes at this point, and just- the angst potential y’all.
Anyways I’m not gonna write it, cause I suck at writing time travel fics, but this is my pitch for someone with more talent than me to do so if they wish.
Actually in light of the new book, we just need more Jean and Jeremy please, friendship or lovers I don’t care that much, but just the two of them make me happy
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