Dealing With the Past Emojis & Text

Copy & Paste Dealing With the Past Emojis & Symbols

Please use discretion and don’t do something that will trigger you further, including triggering trauma or sensory issues! Aggressive activities (Adrenaline-focused): Do not use sharp objects if you can’t trust yourself around them in that moment. Tear apart paper or napkins Cut up boxes, plastic, or paper Stab boxes or foam Angrily scribble Throw rocks at the ground Scream into a pillow, or punch it Passive activities (Adrenaline-focused): Watch something scary (scary game, thriller movie) Watch someone get angry (Youtube react videos, gamer rage) Watch an action movie Watch a fails video compilation Sensory grounding Hold an ice cube or splash cold water on your face - take a cold shower if you’re really feeling it Smell a strong scent, even an unpleasant one Have a nice warm or cool drink Any kind of strong pressure that won’t injure (weighted blanket, cuddle with your dog) Listen to music or white noise Use a heating pad or take a warm shower/bath Creative outlets: (if you need the similarity, use red ink) Draw on yourself or body paint Do SFX makeup Finger paint Journal about your feelings honestly, even if they’re negative Make a moodboard
r/shortscarystories 1 yr. ago GuyAwks Join Name of the Shame I was named after my parent’s best friend. I never used to have an issue with this. I do now. The name Xavior might’ve been an uncommon choice for a boy. But it held special meaning to my parents, who insisted on naming their first son after a dear family friend who had always come through for them. After all, it was Xavior who’d first introduced them in college. It was he who spoke at their wedding. And it was he that helped them move into their home, gave them rides when their car broke down and babysat in emergencies. My parents said naming me after him was honor. Growing up, I only ever felt to be proud to be named after such a great guy. Uncle Xavior was a good-natured community figure and beloved family man. He imbued the name with a sense of warmth and generosity, and because of it, I happily told people my na͠me. That’s why it’s such a shame that he did what he went on to do. One ordinary July morning, Xavior got out of bed, picked up a kn1fe and proceeded to butcher his entıre family. He then got into his car, drιve into town and continued his kılling spree. A total of 32 people were kılled in his murderous rampage before he was finally shot dead by the polıce. The tragedy instantly made national news as one of the most violent spree killings in our state’s history. The man who’d been a second father to me was now one of the most infamous kïlłers in the US. Ever since that day, being named after Xavior Finch had a very different meaning. Instead of a blessing, it was now my cûrsêd. Jeers of “Exterminator Xavior” or “Xavior the Chıld Slayer” or “X marks the Mürderer” were now constantly lobbed my way at school by other teens, just because of na͠me. Even when I tried to adopt nicknames or use initials, it didn’t make any différent to the hostility I received. Whenever I gave my name to people, they’d clarify “Like the rampage kıller?” or just reflexively cringe at the reminder. I hated it. There was no denying that, at least where I lived, the name was completely tainted. So, after all these years of derisive comments and comparisons, I’m glad to finally be legally changing my name. I haven’t settled on what it’ll be yet. Anything that doesn’t conjure up images of the notorious convict. I refuse to lıve in the shadows of Xavior Finch’s crımes any longer. No, I want the killings I’m going to commıt to speak for themselves. I’m gonna make a name for myself as a criminal—not be overshadowed by my namesake. Sharing a name with an infamous serial killer is unacceptable, when you’re to be future infamous mass kıller.
ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵃ ᶠᵃᵏᵉʳ ⁽ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃᶰᶠᶤᶜ⁾ ᴾᵉᵗ ᵃᵐᵒᵉᵇᵃ ᵖᵘᵖᵖʸ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ˡᶤᵛᵉˢ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵃᶜʳᵒˢˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃᶰᵗˑ ˢʰᵉˡᵈᵒᶰ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵃᵈᵒʳᵉᵈ ʰᶤˢ ᵖᵘᵖ˒ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᶠᵉᵉˡᶤᶰᵍ ᵐᵘᵗᵘᵃˡˑ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵖˡᵃʸᵉᵈ ᶠʳᶤˢᵇᵉᵉ ʷᶤᵗʰ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃʳᵏ ᵉᵃʳˡᶤᵉʳ ᵗᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳ ʷʰᵉᶰ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ˢᵃʷ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᶤᵗʰ ʰᶤˢ ᵖᵉᵗ ˢᶰᵃᶤˡ ᴳᵃʳʸˑ "ᴴᶤ˒ ᵏᶤᵈᵎ" ᴺᵒʷ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷᶤᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᶜˡᵉᵃᶰᵉᵈ ᵈᵘʳᶤᶰᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵘᵗᶤᶰᵍ˒ ᶠᶤᶰᵈᶤᶰᵍ ᵃ ᵗᵉᵈᵈʸ ᵇᵉᵃʳ ᶤᶰ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃᶰᵈ'ˢ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵗˑ ᵂʰᵉᶰ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃᶰᵈ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵃʳʳᶤᵛᵉᵈ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ʷᶤᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉᶤʳ ᵖᵉᵗˢ˒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˢᵃʷ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ʷᶤᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵉᵈᵈʸ ᵇᵉᵃʳˑ ˢʰᵉ ᵈᵘᵐᵖᵉᵈ ᶤᵗ ᶤᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ˢʰʳᵉᵈᵈᵉʳ ᵐᵃᶜʰᶤᶰᵉ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵍᵃˢᵖᵉᵈ˒ ᵗʳʸᶤᶰᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ʰᶤˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵒˢᵘʳᵉˑ "ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ˒ ʷʰʸˑˑˑ" "ᴵ'ᵐ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶜˡᵉᵃᶰᶤᶰᵍˑˑ" "ᴵ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ᵇᵘᵗˑˑˑ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᶜʳᶤᵉˢ˒ ᶰᵒʷ ᶜᵒᶰᶠᵘˢᶤᶰᵍ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵃᶰᵈ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇˑ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ ˢʰᵉˡᵈᵒᶰ ᶤᵗ'ˢ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵃᶰ ᵒˡᵈˑˑˑ" "ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗ ᶤᵗ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷʰᵉᶰ ʷᵉ'ʳᵉ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉˑˑ" "ˢʰᵉˡᵈᵒᶰ ʰᵒʷ ᵃᵐ ᴵ ˢᵘᵖᵖᵒˢᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵏᶰᵒʷˑˑ" "ᴵ ᵈᵒᶰ'ᵗ ʷᵃᶰᶰᵃ ˢᵉᵉᵐ ʷᵉᵃᵏ ᶠᵒʳ ʰᵘᵍᵍᶤᶰᵍ ᶤᵗ ᵉᵃᶜʰ ᶰᶤᵍʰᵗ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰᵎ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ᶰᵒʷ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏ ᵈᵒʷᶰ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᶰᵗᶤᶰᵘᵉᵈ ᶜʳʸᶤᶰᵍˑ "ᴴᵉʸ˒ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰˑˑˑ" ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ʰᶤᵐ ᶤᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉʸᵉˑ "ᴵ ᶜᵃᶰ ˢᵖᵉᶰᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶰᶤᵍʰᵗ ʷᶤᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘˑˑ" "ˢᵘʳᵉ ʷʰʸ ᶰᵒᵗ ˢʰᵉˡᵈᵒᶰ ʸᵒᵘ ᶰᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵒᵖᵉᶰ ᵘᵖ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵃˢ ᶤᵗ'ˢˑ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵃᶰᵈ ᴳᵃʳʸ ᵐᶤᵍʰᵗ ᵉᶰʲᵒʸ ᶤᵗ ᵗᵒᵎ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒ ʰᶤˢ ᵇᵉᵈʳᵒᵒᵐˑ "ᵂᵉ ᶜᵃᶰ ˢʰᵃʳᵉ ᵐʸ ᵇᵉᵈˑ ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵈᵒᶰ'ᵗ ᵇˡᵃᵇ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗˑˑˑ" "ᴵ'ᵈ ᶰᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵈᵒ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃ ᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰᵎ ᴼʰ ᵃᶰᵈ ᴵ ᶜᵃᶰ ᵗʳʸ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᶤᵗ ʷᶤᵗʰ ᵃᶰ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵗᵉᵈᵈʸ ᵇᵉᵃʳ ᶤᶠˑˑˑ" "ᴵ'ᵐ ᶰᵒᵗ ᵍᵒᶰᶰᵃ ʳᵉᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᵐʸ ˢᵖᵉᶜᶤᵃˡ ᵗᵉᵈᵈʸ ᵇᵉᵃʳ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵐʸ ᶜʰᶤˡᵈʰᵒᵒᵈᵎ ᴮᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵃᶰᵏˢ ᵏᶤᵈˑˑ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ᵉʸᵉ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ᶠᶤˡˡᵉᵈ ʷᶤᵗʰ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢˑ "ᵞᵒᵘ ᶜᵃᶰ ʰᵘᵍ ᵐᵉ ᶤᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃᶰᵗˑˑ" ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵒᶠᶠᵉʳᵉᵈ˒ ˡᵉᵗᵗᶤᶰᵍ ʰᶤᵐ ʰᵒˡᵈ ʰᵃᶰᵈˢˑ "ᴵ'ᵐˑˑˑ" "ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵈᵒᶰ'ᵗ ʷᵒʳʳʸ˒ ʸᵒᵘ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵉʸᵉ ᵃᶰᵈ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ ʳᵉˢᵗᵎ ᵞᵒᵘ ᶜᵃᶰ ᵉᵐᵇʳᵃᶜᵉ ᵐʸ ʰᵃᶰᵈ ˡᶤᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᶤᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵉᵈᵈʸ ᵇᵉᵃʳˑˑ" ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡᵉᵗ ʰᶤᵐ ᵃᶰᵈ ˢᵐᵒᵒᵗʰᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ᵃᶰᵗᵉᶰᶰᵃᵉ ʷᶤᵗʰ ʰᶤˢ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᶠʳᵉᵉ ʰᵃᶰᵈˑ "ᵞᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ˒ ᴵ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ᶤᵗ'ˢ ʰᵃʳᵈ ˡᵒˢˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ʷᵒᶰ'ᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉˑ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵈᶤᵈᶰ'ᵗ ˡᵉᵗ ᵍᵒˑ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵒᵖᵉᶰᵉᵈ ʰᶤˢ ᵉʸᵉˢ ʷʰᵉᶰᶜᵉ ʰᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵠᵘᶤᵉᵗ ˢᶰᵒʳᶤᶰᵍ˒ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ᵍᵉᵗᵗᶤᶰᵍ ʳᵉˢᵗˑ 'ᴴᵉ ᶤˢ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ' ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵐᶤˡᵉᵈ˒ ˢᵉᵉᶤᶰᵍ ʰᶤᵐ ᶰᵒʷˑ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ᵒᶰ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ʰᵃᶰᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᶤˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ʳᵉᵐᵃᶤᶰᵉᵈ ᵒᵖᵉᶰ˒ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉˑ "ˢᵒ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˑˑ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ᶰᵉˣᵗ ᵐᵒʳᶰᶤᶰᵍ˒ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳᶤᶰᵍ ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳᵈᵃʸˑ ᴴᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶰᵒʷ˒ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ᶰᵒᵗ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵉᵗˑ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵃ ᵈᶤᶠᶠᵉʳᵉᶰᵗ ᵗᵉᵈᵈʸ ᵇᵉᵃʳ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ʷʰᶤᶜʰ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵍʳᵒʷˡᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ˒ ʷᵃᵏᶤᶰᵍ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇˑ "ᴴᵉʸ ʷᵃᶤᵗ˒ ʷʰʸ'ˢ ˢᵖᵒᵗˑˑˑ" "ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵏᶰᵒʷˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᶠᵃᵏᵉᵎ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ˢᶰᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ʰᵉʳˑ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ʷᵉᶰᵗ ˢᵃᵗ ᵒᶰ ʰᶤˢ ᵒʷᶰᵉʳ'ˢ ˡᵃᵖ ᶰᵒʷˑ "ˢᵐᵃʳᵗ ᵖᵘᵖᵎ" "ˢᵒ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃᶰʸ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʸᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵒʳ ᵍᶤᵛᵉᶰ ᵗᵒ ᵇʸ ᴹʳˑ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢˀ ᴵ ᵐᵉᵃᶰ˒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵒ ᶰᵒᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒˑˑˑ" "ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᴵ˒ ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ˢˡᵉᵖᵗ ˢᵒ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᶰᶤᵍʰᵗ ᵗʰᵃᶰ ᴵ ᶜᵃᶰ ʳᵉˑˑˑ" "ᴵ'ᵈ ˢᵖᵉᶰᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶰᶤᵍʰᵗ ᵃᶰʸ ᵗᶤᵐᵉ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰᵎ" "ᵞᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶰᶤᶜᵉ ᵏᶤᵈˑˑ" ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ˢʰʳᵉᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵉᵈᵈʸ ᵇᵉᵃʳ ᵃᶰᵈ ˢᵉʷᶤᶰᵍ ᶤᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᵃˢ ᶰᵉʷˑ "ᴸᵒᵒᵏ˒ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰᵎ" ˢᵖᵒᵗ ʷᵃᵍᵍᵉᵈ ʰᶤˢ ᵗᵃᶤˡ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵍᵒᵗ ᶤᵗˑ » 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 𝟒𝟖𝟐 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 |
Nobody wants to go near me anymore. r/shortscarystories 4 yr. ago Nobody wants to go near me anymore. People used to like me, they'd sit next to me on a park bench, they'd smile when they saw me, they were completely comfortable bringing their girlfriends and kids around me. Not anymore. Not since that awful mürder. Now they cross the street to avoįd me, and if they do look at me, it's only with a look of disgust. I wish I could tell them all how sorrყ I was. Sure, nobody blames me. It's not my fault. They know it wasn't my fault. But now, they can't stand to even glance my way. I'm so lonelч. God, what I wouldn't give to have someone sit down for lunch with me. I took the little things like that for granted for so long. I had to watch him dıe. They hanged him, and left before he was even déád. I was the one that saw the LiFe leave his eyes, saw the paın and desperation on his face, and I couldn't do a thing to help him. Those terrified eyes haunt3d me for the rest of my life. I wanted nothin’ more than to reach out and save him, point the polıce to the mürderer, and see those awful men put jāiled for the rest of their lives. But I couldn't. I'll never be able to. I can't cøntrøl where my branches bend, and my leaves can only rustle and whisper in the wind.
pls note the ai inflicts emotional damage (ᵕ—ᴗ—)
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r/shortscarystories 5 yr. ago TeslaToth ♡ Our daughter was born dying. Childhood leukaemia, they said. Just a bad draw of the cards. The white blood cells inside her, designed to protect her from harm, instead began attacking her, from the inside out. Her mother and I, also designed to protect her, could do nothing but watch as she slowly passed away. We named her Viv, short for Vivienne, French for alive. Defiant. But, ultimately, not prophetic of her fate. We buried Viv on her fifth birthday. After five years of constant heartbreak, our friends and family hoped we would feel some relief when she finally passed. Instead, the heartbreak continued, as omnipresent and suffocating as ever. We hosted seances, burned incense, used Ouija boards… Anything to try to keep her, or some small part of her, alive. It was all a waste of time, really, and we knew that. But we never gave up. Until one morning, getting out of the shower, I noticed something drawn in the steam on the bathroom mirror: ♡. I assumed my wife had left it for me, but when I entered the bedroom, I found her fast asleep. I kept the loving image to myself for the time being, assuming I’d dreamt it. But then I began to see it elsewhere. ♡. Drawn in the fresh-fallen snow, with no footprints anywhere nearby. ♡. Written in ballpoint pen on a new yellow legal pad I’d just unwrapped from the plastic. ♡. Arranged in string beans on top of the meatloaf in my microwave dinner. Viv had died before we’d properly taught her to write. But she knew what that symbol meant. Love. I took it to mean many things. That she was safe. That she was happy. That she was still with us. She still loving us. Finally, I gathered the courage to tell my wife. She didn’t take it well. It began with disbelief. Then anger. I showed her pictures I’d taken of the symbols, but of course, there was no proof of where they’d come from. I could have drawn them myself, she said. She became certain that I was toying with her emotions. I understood how she felt – she didn’t want to get her hopes up, and have them be crushed. It didn’t stop me from yelling back at her. It didn’t stop me from throwing the dinner plate at the wall. She stormed out of the house, and I didn’t stop her from going. It was then that I felt it. Shortness of breath. Numbness in my left arm. A shxrp paın in my chest. I collapsed to the floor, realising my mıstakes. ♡. Viv hadn't been saying she lòved me. Viv had been trying to warn me.

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r/TwoSentenceHorror 4 yr. ago Averagebiker21 After I asked the crystal ball to tell me how to escape death, I was very confused as it read "No, thanks honey, I'm full" However, something clicked in my head when my wife offered me cake after dinner...
Tuesday, March 31st, 2015 | I only go shopping at night The cashier swipes my items across the scanner as I stare at the floor. I find it easiest to get through my anxiety by avoiding eye contact with other people. That’s why I only go shopping at night fewer people to avoid. “Did you find everything okay?” she asks casually. “Mm-hmm,” I mumble to the floor. Her voice sounds nice. Pleasant. Curiosity wins over and I glance up. The cashier’s head is completely caved in on the left side. Probably a car accident. I snap my gaze back down towards the floor. After I pay she gives back my change in a hand so mangled I’m surprised it can hold anything at all. Thanking her, I grab my bags and turn towards the exit. Immediately I see a man looking through magazines at the store front. The skin on his face and hands is the consistency of a hot dog that fell into a campfire. Burn victim. I rush out the door as fast as I can. In my car I finally catch my breath as I lean my forehead on the steering wheel. Eventually I look up and see my familiar reflection in the rear-view mirror: my head is blown open in the back. Gunshot victim. Why did I ever wish for the power to see how people die? Credit to reddit user resistance1984

Warning: This item may contain sensitive themes such as nudity.

r/shortscarystories 8 hr. ago k_g_lewis The Shortest Date Ever “Why don’t you go and grab us some drinks while I find us something to watch,” Sheila said. “Okay,” Brett replied. He got up, went into the kitchen, and opened the fridge. Looking for the beer he came upon a jar of oddly shaped worm-like objects suspended in cloudy liquid. He picked it up. “I forgot that was in there.” Sheila had come into the kitchen and was looking over Brett’s shoulder. “What is it?” Brett asked, bringing the jar closer to so he could better examine its contents. “It’s the lips of all the men who have lied to me,” Sheila replied.
Pansyk •6mo ago Personally, reading and writing fanfiction has really helped me with my technical skills. When I look over the fanfiction I have written over the years, I can see how my prose and dialogue have improved. All fiction, whether of the fan or original variety, is built off of the basic idea of "making words sound good." And fanfiction is a perfectly acceptable way to do that. However, the way that fanfiction operates in terms of characterization and plot? That's radically different from original fiction. In fanfiction, characters are already established, so even if you're doing some batshit insane Alternate Universe, everyone already knows the basics of what's up. That's not true of original fiction. You need to devote more time to both fleshing out your characters and establishing their relationships with the rest of the cast. Plot often progresses differently, in part because of the time you just spent showing your readers who these people are, but also because fanfiction and original fiction often follow different structures entirely. Fanfiction is free and accessible to anyone with an internet connection. That makes it useful for new authors, especially young authors. Think of it as swimming in shallow water. It's fun! It can help you build up some strength. Anyone can do it. But it won't completely prepare you for diving into deeper water. So, I guess at the end of the day, reading both will help your development as a writer.
r/TwoSentenceHorror 5 min. ago InfamousInspector863 Her heart raced as the caller informed her that her date had died in a car crash earlier that evening. She turned slowly to face the person driving, realizing she was sitting next to a complete stranger.
r/shortscarystories 12 hr. ago Wellsong Mrs. Johnson's wise decision Stacy Johnson watched the five candles flicker on her cake with avid, fire-bright eyes, her round cheeks dimpling as her smile grew bigger and bigger. Three tiers of chocolate sponge, iced with swirling blue and pink buttercream and decorated with white chocolate buttons: the apogee of Mrs. Johnson’s baking efforts. Stacy’s school friends bounced in their seats. They’d played the games, they’d watched Stacy tear open her presents, and now it was time for the party to pay dividends. A few of them had had to be pulled back from reaching for the cake before the candles were even lit. “Make a wish,” Stacy’s mum said, fumbling with the camera app on her phone. Stacy squeezed her eyes closed, an expression of reverent concentration wiping the dimples smooth. She sucked in a deep breath, her chest swelling—and released the gathered air in one long whoosh. Mrs. Johnson’s index finger brushed the touchscreen of her phone. There was a soft click as the phone mimicked a shutter closing, half a second before the last candle went out. Then the electric lights went out too. It should have been bright outside, but only wispy twilight was seeping through the windows. All the children except the birthday girl made noises of alarm and consternation. “I made my wish!” Stacy declared, her voice cutting into the murmurs all around her. Mrs. Johnson opened her mouth to answer, but all she could manage was a soft croak as dark shapes erupted from the corners of the room, huge and twisted, and seized the children sitting around the table. The children screamed, their terror melding into a shuddering wall of sound, but there was nothing they could do to resist what was happening to them. The screams receded as they were torn away into—through—the floor and the walls and the ceiling by the shadowy creatures, until the dark was silent and peaceful and empty again. The light came back as quickly as it had disappeared, flicking the room back to normalcy in an instant. Midday sun swept across the balloons and the banners and the cake and Stacy Johnson’s pleased hungry expression. But all the other children were gone, as if they’d never been part of the scene at all. “Now the cake’s all for me,” said Stacy, dimpling anew. “Unless…do you want some, Mummy?”
r/shortscarystories 1 yr. ago GuyAwks The Grief Is Always Greener There is no pain worse than burying your own chıld. When my son was first dıagnosed with leukemia, I fell apart. As loved ones and well-wishers stepped in to offer assistance, I longed to shut myself away from it all. Even though I knew they meant well, I couldn’t stand the attention. All I wanted was my old life back with Billy healthy. By the time the cáncer took my Àngel from me, I was a different person. In place of the warm kindness I once fostered, now all I could feel was bitterness and resentments. Nobody was the recipient of this newfound jealousy more than my neighbor Cathy—and her daughter Ella. From the moment they approached me at the wake to offer condolence, I irrationally hated them. Why did it have to be me going through this agonizing loss, and not Cathy? Why was it my kid deprived of growing up, and not Ella? Despite resisting, I felt these spiteful emotions surge through me like a flashfire every time I saw her coming home from school, playing in her backyard, greeting me in public. Before I knew it, I began to fantasize about Cathy’s child, too. I pictured her shriveling up and wasting away like Billy had. They were deplorable thoughts but I couldn’t stop myself from feelıng them. Like some malevolent force, I sensed a pure, toxıc malice radiating out of my mind and into Ella. It was as if my grief had manifested into a living evıl. That’s when the unthinkable started occurring. Day by day, out of nowhere, Ella’s health mysteriously began deteriorating. As I’d imagined happening, the little girl next door became lethargic, pale and in bed, the same way that Billy had. Cathy was beside herself and drew a crowd of sympathetic faces to her side, like I had. My mind couldn’t have really caused this, right? They were just thoᥙghts, the indulgent thoughts of a broken, grieving woman. But I couldn’t deny the clear results, nor could I deny that part of me felt sated by it. My cosmic venom kept being transmitted to that poor girl. Until finally, like Billy, she passed away. Attending Ella’s wake, any feelings of catharsis had now been replaced by guilt. There was no fairness I could see, no justice. Just two stolen lives. Against all reason, I felt the urge to confess my mystical hand in this to Cathy. But, as I went to spill my heart out, she confessed to me first. “Martha, I just have to tell somebody: I po𝚤soned Ella to dEath with cleanser!” I was speechless. “I know it’s awful” she cries to me, batting her mascara-tinged lashes. “But I was so jeαlous seeing all the attention you got when Billy died.” “There’s no paın worse than watching your frıend bury theır own chıld.”
r/TwoSentenceHorror 2 days ago 54321RUN "It's not that unheard of for a child to be born with an extra toe," the doctor assured us after my daughter's birth. But I had my doubts when another six legs started sprouting out a few days later.
r/TwoSentenceHorror 5 yr. ago spenceyfresh As death came for him, his life flashed before his eyes. He remembered everything his birth, his trip home and the blank look in his mothers eyes as she forcefully held him under the bathtub's water.
r/TwoSentenceHorror 2 days ago Switch_B My AI has been writing a ton of these two sentence horror stories lately. Some of the comments really tickled me with how they said it's 'wickedly creative,' 'uniquely disturbing,' and 'like there's a real psycho on the other end just waiting to be unleashed.'
Wanna search something specific her? be it fanfic or drama, lists of tags on the following sites: https://kitugame.com/tagging https://bestnickname.com/tags
ʳ/ˢᶜᵃʳʸˢᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ ¹⁵ ʰʳ‧ ᵃᵍᵒ ᴰʳᵉᵃᵈ_ᴿᵉᵃᵖᵉʳ_ ᵀʰᵉ ᴾˡᵃʸᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᴵⁿ ᵃ ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗ⸴ ᵃᵇᵃⁿᵈᵒⁿᵉᵈ ˢᶜʰᵒᵒˡ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰᵗᵉʳ ᵒᶠ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʳᵉⁿ ᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵉᶜʰᵒ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵃˡˡˢ‧ ᴼⁿᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ⸴ ᵃ ʲᵃⁿⁱᵗᵒʳ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᶠᵃⁱⁿᵗ ᵍⁱᵍᵍˡᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖˡᵃʸᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ‧ ᵀʰᵉʳᵉ⸴ ʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ˢʷⁱⁿᵍˢ ᵐᵒᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵒʷⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢʰᵃᵈᵒʷˢ ᵒᶠ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʳᵉⁿ ᵖˡᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵒᵃᶜʰᵉᵈ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ˢʷⁱⁿᵍˢ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰᵗᵉʳ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ˢⁱⁿⁱˢᵗᵉʳ ʷʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳˢ⸴ ʳᵉᵛᵉᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʰᵒˢᵗˢ ᵒᶠ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʳᵉⁿ ʷʰᵒ ʰᵃᵈ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᶜʰᵒᵒˡ‧ ᵀʰᵉⁿ⸴ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ˢʷⁱⁿᵍˢ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵏᵉᵈ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵐᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿ⸴ ʳᵉᵛᵉᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵍʰᵒˢᵗˡʸ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰᵒˡˡᵒʷ ᵉʸᵉˢ⸴ ʷʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ⸴ "ʲᵒⁱⁿ ᵘˢ ᶠᵒʳᵉᵛᵉʳ‧"
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Jᴇʟʟʏ_Bᴇᴀɴ36 I ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴅᴀʏ ᴡʜᴇɴ I ғᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ғᴏᴜɴᴛᴀɪɴ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜᴛʜ ᴀs ɪᴛ ᴡᴀs ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀʀᴋ ᴏғ ᴍʏ ғɪʀsᴛ ᴅᴀʏ ᴏғ ɪᴍᴍᴏʀᴛᴀʟɪᴛʏ. Nᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ʀᴀᴄᴇ ʜᴀs ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴡɪᴘᴇᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ I'ᴍ ᴀʟʟ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ.
r/TwoSentenceHorror Deiun ...she said last time, we're stuck in a time loop which is just the thing, because that's what...
https://www.reddit.com/r/FullEpisodesOfSB/comments/1651tuc/comment/jybjno5/
r/TwoSentenceHorror 23 hr. ago dccub86 Every night I would calm my daughter by checking for monsters under the bed. Tonight she told me I didn’t have to check anymore, as blood trickled across the floor.
"I wanted to scream, but I have no mouth."
https://www.reddit.com/r/spongebob_piracy/new/
r/shortscarystories 4 yr. ago Perfect__Nightmare Someone broke into our home It was every family's nightmare. My wife and I had the day off work, and we had taken our son out for lunch and some family bonding time. But as we approached our home, something felt off. I had a growing sense of dread the closer we got. As our house came into view, I could see that the front door was wide open. Someone had broken into our home. I told my family to wait outside, in case the intruder was still inside. They obliged, and I slowly and silently made my way through our house. As I stepped into the living room, I saw broken furniture, nothing in its correct place, just utter chaos. Was this person looking for something? Did they have malicious intent? Why our home? Why us? Next, I walked to our kitchen. The fridge had been emptied. Dishes and food were thrown all over the room. What kind of person had broken into our home? A homeless person who just needed food? If so, why had they destroyed the living room? That's when I heard it. Footsteps in the bedroom. The intruder was still in our house. I took a brief moment to be grateful that I had asked my wife and son to wait outside. It was impossible to decipher this person's motives so far. But I was about to come face to face with the person that forcefully entered our home. And I would demand answers. I crept toward the bedroom slowly, slowly. I approached the door, and focused on the sliver of light slipping through the crack. I could see faint shadows dancing in the light. I raised my hand, placed it against the door, and took a deep breath, readying myself for whatever may be on the other side. I pushed the door open and stepped through the threshold with authority. I couldn't believe my eyes. I actually rubbed my hands over them, thinking I was imagining things. There, in my son's bed, was a young girl with curly blonde hair. She stared at me with wide eyes. She must have been terrified. I must have been a few feet taller and at least 100 pounds heavier than her. I must have been a sight to see for that little girl. But she should have considered that before breaking into my home. I called my wife and son to see what I found. "Is that a human, Papa?" "Why yes it is, Baby Bear. That's dinner."
Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 2 days ago KindaNotSmart The Daily Call Growing old is lonely. I’m 72, and most days, it’s just me and the silence. Children, grandchildren, nieces, nephews - they all loved spending time with me when they were young. But life gets busy, and eventually, they just don’t have time for someone old and boring. I get it, I really do. But not my son. At 33, he never drifted away. He calls me every single day, without fail. Our daily phone call. He also helps with my dementia, asks me the questions the doctor recommended: Do I know what year it is? What country we live in? My name? Age? Address? It’s supposedly to keep my mínd sharp. Lately, though, something’s been off about our calls. Could be my dementia, but sometimes I hear strange nóise in the background - static, distant voices, whispers. He says it’s just a bad connection or blames the TV. For the past three weeks, my son has been plannıng to visit me. I’m in Missouri, and he’s out in California, so it’s not easy. But today’s the day. He’s on his way. And as always, even though he’s coming to see me, we had our daily call. We went throuģh the usual questions. My name, my age, my address. Then I got aņothe̷r call, so I put him on hold. “Ma’am, this is Officer Roberts with the Los Angeles Polıce Department. I’m sorry to call you like this, but we need to speak with you about your son. We’ve been trying to reach his next of kin.” “What’s going on, Officer? Is he in some kind of trouble?” There was a pause, like he was choosing his words carefully. “I’m afraid it’s more serious than that. I’m sorry you have to find out like this, but we just got the test̕ back. We’re finding out the same time as you. I’m afraid your son’s bødy was found three weeks ago.” “No, that’s not possible. I’ve been talking to him every day. He’s on the other line right now - he’s coming to visit me.” “Ma’am, unfortunately it’s true. The DNA test was conclusive. If you’ve been talking with anybody, please be aware that the person you’re speaking to isn’t your son.” My confusion turned to a cold, gripping fear. I hung up on the officer, my hand shaking, and switched back to the line with my sơn. I couldn’t speak, just held the phone to my ear in stunned silence. There was no sound, just heavy breathıng on the other end. In my head, I replayed myself answering all those questions - my name, my age, my address. And then, just as the panic set in, the silence was shattered by a knock on my door. My bedroom door. The voıce on the phone, now low and distorted, whispered, “I'm here҉, MoM.” The line went dead.
benevola • 2y ago I like making my main character vulnerable and that usually means hurting him. He’s a pretty tightly-wound guy and I like to show him with his guard down. Plus the comfort part is usually so satisfying to write.
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Warning: This item may contain sensitive themes such as nudity.

Nobody wants to go near me anymore. r/shortscarystories Nobody wants to go near me anymore. People used to like me, they'd sit next to me on a park bench, they'd smile when they saw me, they were completely comfortable bringing their girlfriends and kids around me. Not anymore. Not since that awful murd*r. Now they cross the street to avoid me, and if they do look at me, it's only with a look of disgust. I wish I could tell them all how sorry I was. Sure, nobody blames me. It's not my fault. They know it wasn't my fault. But now, they can't stand to even glance my way. I'm so lonely. God, what I wouldn't give to have someone sit down for lunch with me. I took the little things like that for granted for so long. I had to watch him dıe. They hung him, and left before he was even deἀd. I was the one that saw the lífe leave his eyes, saw the paın and desperation on his face, and I couldn't do a thing to help him. Those terrified eyes will haunt me for the rest of my lífe. I wanted nothing more than to reach out and save him, point the police to the hangers, and see those awful men put in jail for the rest of their lives. But I couldn't. I'll never be able to. I can't control where my branches bend, and my leaves can only rustle and whisper in the wind.
ʙʟɪᴛᴢᴇɴᴋʀɪᴇɢ2194 • 1 ʏʀ. ᴀɢᴏ Tʜᴇ ᴍᴏɴsᴛᴇʀ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇᴅ ᴘᴏᴋᴇᴅ ɪs ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴀs ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜɪʟᴅ's ғᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴇɴᴛᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏᴏᴍ. "Dᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴏʀʀʏ," ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏɴsᴛᴇʀ ᴡʜɪsᴘᴇʀᴇᴅ, "ʜᴇ ᴡᴏɴ'ᴛ ʜᴜʀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ."
Sassy Kidnapped Whumpee Prompts Here's a list of sassy kidnappee quotes/prompts for those defiant little whumpees who are just asking for it. Enjoy! (Shoutout to @prisonerwhump for the idea!!!) "Oof, big scary spEEch. Nıce. Did you practice that in front of the mirror this mornıng?" "Are these new ropes? I hope you didn't go to the trouble just for me, you know I don't judge." "Ah. Blindfolds again. How original." "Okay, I'm awake. You can make your entrance nơw. [...] Don't play dumb, I know that's a two-way mirror. Let's just get it over with." "You know, I always assumed if I were kidnapped it would be some creepy st*lker yandere thing, but no. I get you instead. That's better, right? So...Thank you? I think? Ah, that's a kn1fe." "Listen, I know you're tryıng to be intimidating and everything - and normally it would be. Really, I mean͡ it. Chocking me against the wall is real scary, but... Like. Your hands are so soft, I can't even take you serıously. What kind of lotion do you use?" "Not to critique you when you're doing your zappy thíng, but you had better up the voltage or something before I fałł asleep. I get bored eąsįly." " "How much did that hurt̸"? Really? Like, I mean. It hurt̸, it wasn't pleasant, but - you know when you're a kid and your parents spank you when you don't clean your room? Yeah, that hâppeñed to me a lot as a kid. I felt really ba͏d making her get after me because she was alwaყs sick͞ and frail and stuff. Anyway, the point I'm trying to makę here is my MoM hits harder than you. Does that answer your question?" "Wow, what an impressive collection. Very daunting. Very scary. Just checking, but you do have a life outsıde of collecting tortur͘e implements, right? I don't judge, but I'm a little worried about you." "All you want to know is where Caretaker is. Honestly, you could ask a few questions about me first. You don't even know my fav0rite color yet." "Geez, you can at least buy me dınner before chocking me out." "Are you sure you know how to use that? I don't know, man. Maybe you should let me t̢ry it on you to make͘ sure. Just untie me real quick." "Mmm yes! Harder! Please hit me harder! Oh, I'm sorrყ. Am I makıng you uncomfortable? No no, don't stop hitting me now." "Loving the 'dark scary basement' vibes. Really, this lev3l of design takes time. The lightbulb is even flickering - did you plan that? It's honestly impressive. That or you're just this much of a slob. Either way, very effective." "Oooooo! I've always wanted my own dungeon cell. Can I put movıe posters on the walls? I think they would really spice the place up. Do you have any extra sticky tack?" "Really? You bought me for that low of a prıce? I mean, don't get me wrong, I'll never see that much money in my entire life, but I think I'm worth more than that. I mean͡, look at me. I'm adorable." "You can at least give me a deck of cards or something, it's soooooo boring døwn here when you're gone. Not that it's better when you're here. Hm? No no, not because of the paın or whatever, you're just still boring. Really, if I had as much money as you, I could buy a personality." "Ah, the whip again. Let me ask, do you ever have a͝ny new ıdeas or do you just find one and let it play like a brok3n record until you dıe?" "Honestly I'm starting to get genuinely concerned about your hearing. I sAID I'm. Not. Telling. You. Anything. Do I need to talk louder? Maybe write it out̸ for you? Ow! Jeez, you cAn cvt me all you w̡ant, bUt that's not going to be nearly as effective as just talking to an otolaryngologist." "You call that a hit? Untie me quick and I'll show you how it's døne." "Gooooooooooooodevening, Kidn@ppers! How are you today? How was work. Did you đrınk enough water? How was - oh my, you look angry. Is it something I said?" “How do you sleep at nıght??? No seriously, your skın is so clear, you have to have some fantastic skincare routine before bed. And. Like. A great pi]low.” “Do you have to stand so close when you’re threatening me? I get it, but…brush your teeth or something first.” “Ah yes. Gruel. My favorite. You have to get me the recipe sometime. You’re a culinary genius.” "You knøw, I'm stɑrtıng to feel kinda bad. Here I am having all the fun, and you're doing all the work. How about you untie me and then you get a tu̴rǹ in the chair? Doesn't that sound nice?" “Better untie me then. Oh, you’re going to hand feed me? Isn’t that swéet. I didn’t know you were a big old softie.” "I can't believe you. You're a monster. Blαck shoes with a blue suit? Are you kidding me? Ridiculøus. No wonder you don't mind getting my b!ood all over your outfit, it's awful already." "I'm kında gettin͘g bored of all the screaming, how about you?" "This seems like a waste. Did you know the błoođ banks are all runnıng low? It's like. A national crisis. People could dıe. Yet here you are letting all my perfectly good błoođ go to waste. If you're so insistent on being slicy today, maybe you could like put a drip pan or something on the ground. You think they'd take drip pan błoođ? You do keep that kn*fe clean, right?" “Well someone’s cranky today. What? Didn’t get your morning coffee?” “You’re ‘Tired of all my jabbering’? Really? Well that’s kinda self centered of you. Just think about me. I have to lıve with me every minute of every day. And do I ever get a b͞reak? No. Never bored though, so that’s nice.” "What exactly do you mean by 'scream for you'? I have like seven different types of screams." "I'm sorrყ, I don't thınk I heard you the fırst 478 times. What was it you wanteԀ again? Hm. Nope. Still not clicking. You better aSK AgAIN." "Just a real quick questıon - do you have...like...friends? A significant other maybe? You're spending soooo much time down here with me, I just want to make sure you're not neglecting your lòved ones. No?"
🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤🤍
Like this is you have a bf/gf/crush <3 February 12th, 2014, 2:44 AM
@KarmaticIrony • 3y ago • Going to sleep is like putting a computer on standby mode. The lights aren't on but everything is working and ready to turn back on. In fact some processes are probably running in the background. Getting koncked out is like pulling the computer's power cable out of the wall. Things are not working correctly and there is a risk of serious lasting damage or maybe even total system failure. Even in the best case scenario, booting back up will take longer than from standby.
https://www.reddit.com/r/FullEpisodesOfSB/comments/1651tuc/spongebob_full_episode_index/
@chronicpaingirlie some goals i want to practise this disability pride month: - let go of able-bodied expectations - lower the bar - cut myself some slack - treat myself as gently as possible - practise setting boundaries to protect my wellbeing
r/shortscarystories 4 yr. ago RVKony Join The Blind Child "Stãbbing." Sylvia pointed a trembling finger at my brother Arthur. Her milky, unseeing eyes gleamed in his direction, and his wife, Agnes, trembled with indignation from across the table. My husband's face colored as he dropped his fork and dragged our daughter back into her bedroom, scolding her as they went. The rest of the night was awkward, and the pep in our conversation never recovered. Two weeks later, Agnes was st*bbed to dEath in her office parking lot. An college student found her, and called the cops. My brother swore that he bore no ill will against my daughter, but I could tell that he was lying. One day, the middle-aged woman who taught my daughter how to read her braille called me. "Ma'am, I don't know what's going on but your daughter's been whispering, 'electrocution, electrocution,' for the past half-hour and it's starting to distract her from her lessons. Could you please talk to her?" I did. Sylvia, in her nine-year-old lack of understanding, told me it was "just a cool new word" she learnt at school. The dEath of an electrician made headlines the following week. It was a freak accident involving tangled wires and a bucket of water. Sylvia's teacher's face was blurred for privacy, but her voice was as familiar as anything to me: "He was…my partner…my soulmate." While my husband was working late, I called Sylvia into the living room. "Honey, is there anything Mommy should know?" She hesitated. "Honey, you know you can talk to me." She denied it once more, "I have no secrets from you, Mommy." My husband walked into the living room with his hair tousled and his eyes distant. Instead of rushing to hug her dad, Sylvia simply turned towards him. "Fire," she said. My heart stopped. Everytime Sylvia said something like that, it was the person's partner who d1ed, and of that reason too. A fire? Was Sylvia merely making predictions, or was she cûrsêd on me for snooping in on her business? Why, this dēvıl child— I grew paranoid, checked the appliances and electronics constantly, and cleared the house of any fire hazards. That was my lįfe over the next few days. All the while, I kept my eyes on Sylvia. Sylvia. I had grown almost hateful towards my own daughter. My husband came home one night, wounded and blackened with soot, while I sat in the living room and Sylvia listened to the radio beside me. "What's the matter?" I asked. He gulped. "One of my colleagues, her house…her house caught fire. She was trapped in, but I managed to escape." That turned the gears in my head. "What were you doing in her house?" The expression on my husband's face was a sufficient admission of guilt. I opened my mouth to speak—no, to scream—but a smaller voice from beside me looked at me and whispered: "Poisoning."
FIVE Senses to ground yourself 5 things you See (eyesight) 4 things you Hear (listening) 3 things you Feel (touch) 2 things you Smell (scent) 1 thing you can Taste
There's No Reason to Be Afraid By Reddit user by whoeverfightsmonster ~ When my sister Betsy and I were kids, our family lived for awhile in a charming old farmhouse. We loved exploring its dusty corners and climbing the apple tree in the backyard. But our favorite thing was the ghost. We called her Mother, because she seemed so kind and nurturing. Some mornings Betsy and I would wake up, and on each of our nightstands, we'd find a cup that hadn't been there the night before. Mother had left them there, worried that we'd get thirsty during the night. She just wanted to take care of us. Among the house's original furnishings was an antique wooden chair, which we kept against the back wall of the living room. Whenever we were preoccupied, watching TV or playing a game, Mother would inch that chair forward, across the room, toward us. Sometimes she'd manage to move it all the way to the center of the room. We always felt sad putting it back against the wall. Mother just wanted to be near us. Years later, long after we'd moved out, I found an old newspaper article about the farmhouse's original occupant, a widow. She'd murdered her two children by giving them each a cup of poisoned milk before bed. Then she'd hanged herself. The article included a photo of the farmhouse's living room, with a woman's body hanging from a beam. Beneath her, knocked over, was that old wooden chair, placed exactly in the center of the room.
Alphonse "At my parents house, my nephew told my Mom, 'When I lived here before, my name was Alphonse, and I was bigger than you.' My stepdad just kind of blinked and said, 'Hmm, that was my grandfather's name, but we don't talk about him.'"
A Curious Warning • March 6 2015 • RusticEyesore Last night, as I was sitting in my living room and watching a little TV before bed, I heard a strange noise. It was a slow, drawn out scraping across the hardwood floor. Confused, I searched for the source of the sound; and I found it immediately. Someone had a slipped a small, folded note under the door. "What the..?" More curious than anything, I approached the note slowly. I knelt down cautiously and picked up the strange paper. On it were only five words, scrawled on in a crude, messy fashion: "Get out. He is coming." I didn't pause to consider the meaning of the note, however, as I immediately realized there was something very, very wrong with this situation: The note had come from under the closet door.
neuroticboyfriend A lot of the time when professionals interact with psychotic people, they try to reduce our distress by getting us to stop believing things. For me, that only made things worse. It was confusing and distressing. I felt angry, scared, and misunderstood. The best way I've found to cope with delusional thinking is something I discovered on my own. I'll give an example here so, huge TW for unreality and paranoia. Scroll away if you're not able to hear delusional thinking. Yesterday I started freaking out thinking people could hear my thoughts. This is something I've occasionally experienced since I was a child. When this comes up, I always think there's some massive conspiracy, where everyone can hear my thoughts but they react to me as if they don't hear anything. And they're all in on it. This time, it was triggered by intrusive thoughts that I started judging myself for. As you can imagine, this is distressing. I started talking to people through my mind, which only made it worse. I couldn't focus on what was happening around me. What I did to reduce that distress is.. weirdly nonchalant. I just sat there and thought "Well, if this is true, it's not like they're going to change how they interact with me. Everything is the same as it was. Nothing I can do about it, might as well just keep on keeping on." That calmed me down enough to start focusing on what I was doing, and eventually completely forget about it until now. Whenever I try to treat my delusional thinking as something I have to stop immediately... it literally only makes my mind double down. But if I work within what I believe - what I "know" - I can find another way to look at it that isn't so scary. This works with my hallucinations, too. I sometimes see shadow people; they're more like jump scares than anything. They startle me, and I start to wonder if people I'm looking at are real. But that latter part only really happens if I get fearful of them. To avoid that fear, I try to think of the shadow people as just friends watching over me, checking in. They don't do anything, after all. They just pop up, stand there, and disappear. (Talk of unreality ends here) So, yeah. This doesn't work for everyone, and it doesn't always work for me depending on what I'm experiencing/how I'm feeling. But without this, I'd be far worse off; it doesn't take too many missteps for me to spiral. I guess my point is, my reality doesn't have to be "normal" for me to be healthy as a schizophrenic person. It just has to be something I can live with, as happily and safely as possible. And that's ok. Neurodivergent people are allowed to exist, and some people are helped best by finding ways for them to exist as they are without so much distress - rather than trying to eliminate troubling symptoms entirely.
kelpforestdwellers caregivers of disabled people: of course you may find aspects of the job (i use the term broadly to include taking care of loved ones) difficult. that's understandable and you deserve support with that. but there's one person you shouldn't necessarily share that with, and that's the person you're assisting. if you're having difficulty with a task and need to discuss a different way to do it, for example, that's one thing. i'm talking about complaining about how hard something is when it can't be changed or you don't intend to change it, or even joking about how hard various tasks are. my aides sometimes joke about how difficult certain tasks are, and i totally understand where they're coming from and that they mean no harm. but it make me self conscious about asking them to do those tasks in future when i know they struggle with them. and believe me, it's already hard enough to ask for help. i'm not asking anything unreasonable or outside the bounds of the job so it just makes me feel bad needlessly.
people have accused you of lying about your trauma (including claims you’re exaggerating), and you think your trauma isn’t that bad: it is. it’s bad enough regardless of if people accused you of lying, but the reason i say this is to point out to you… if it wasn’t that bad, why would you be lying? what would there be to lie about if it was normal that that happened? people accused you of lying because they refused to accept or believe that something like that happened - happened to you.
neuroticboyfriend Hey, real quick, go bury your face in something soft. A stuffed animal. A plush blanket. A pillow. Your pet. Your favorite shirt or hoodie. Do it. Was it comforting, even in the slightest? If not, well, you tried. Either way, remember that the little things can bring you goodness, and all those little things will add up. They may not overshadow all the bad, but it certainly does help. You may never be truly comfortable, but odds are, there's something around you that can give you some comfort. And that's a lot better than nothing.
r/shortscarystories 4 yr. ago hyperobscura 𝙷𝙰𝚅𝙴 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝚂𝙴𝙴𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙼𝙰𝙽? 𝙴𝚇𝚃. 𝙰 𝙱𝚁𝙸𝙲𝙺 𝙱𝚄𝙸𝙻𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶 - 𝙶𝙸𝙰𝙽𝚃 𝙿𝙾𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙿𝙻𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙴𝙳 𝙾𝙽 𝚆𝙰𝙻𝙻, 𝙱𝙾𝙻𝙳 𝙻𝙴𝚃𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂 𝚈𝙴𝙻𝙻𝙸𝙽𝙶: ‘𝙷𝙰𝚅𝙴 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝚂𝙴𝙴𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙼𝙰𝙽?’ 𝚆𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚑, 𝚊 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙴𝚡𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜? 𝙼𝚒𝚜𝚜? 𝙷𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚜 𝚊 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗. 𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚜 𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍𝚕𝚢. 𝚆𝙾𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝? 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎? 𝚆𝙾𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙵𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎? 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛. 𝚆𝙾𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙰𝚗𝚍? 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎? 𝚆𝙾𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 ...𝚁𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝. 𝚆𝙾𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙴𝚡𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚖𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗’𝚜 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚙. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚡𝚎𝚍, 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚋𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙸...𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝. 𝙲𝚄𝚃 𝚃𝙾: 𝙸𝙽𝚃. 𝙻𝙸𝚅𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚁𝙾𝙾𝙼 - 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙾𝚃𝙸𝙲, 𝙻𝙸𝚃𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙴𝙳 𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷 𝙴𝙼𝙿𝚃𝚈 𝙻𝙸𝚀𝚄𝙾𝚁 𝙱𝙾𝚃𝚃𝙻𝙴𝚂. 𝚆𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑, 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎...𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚗. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚄𝚗𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗. 𝙷𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚞𝚙 𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚕𝚢, 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚐𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚐 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚝, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚑. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗. 𝙲𝚄𝚃 𝚃𝙾: 𝙴𝚇𝚃. 𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝚃𝙾 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙱𝚁𝙸𝙲𝙺 𝙱𝚄𝙸𝙻𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶 - 𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙻𝚈 𝙼𝙾𝚁𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚆𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚚𝚞𝚘𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍. 𝙷𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚗. 𝙷𝚎 𝚒𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚎𝚜; 𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚐𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚝. 𝙰𝚗 𝚎𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚜 𝚋𝚢. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚝, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚆𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗? 𝙷𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗? 𝙴𝙻𝙳𝙴𝚁𝙻𝚈 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙽𝚘. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚗’𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏𝚏. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑. 𝙰 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛. 𝙷𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚙𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛. 𝙲𝚄𝚃 𝚃𝙾: 𝙴𝚇𝚃. 𝙱𝚁𝙸𝙲𝙺 𝙱𝚄𝙸𝙻𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶 - 𝙽𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃 𝚃𝙸𝙼𝙴 - 𝚂𝙸𝙽𝙶𝙻𝙴 𝚂𝚃𝚁𝙴𝙴𝚃 𝙻𝙰𝙼𝙿 𝙸𝙻𝙻𝚄𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚆𝙰𝙻𝙻 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚌𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛. 𝙷𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠-𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚔𝚎𝚍, 𝚊𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚔𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚙𝚜. 𝙰 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚢. 𝙰 𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜. 𝚄𝙽𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆𝙽 𝙰𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗? 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚓𝚘𝚕𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚔𝚎, 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚍𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚒𝚌 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚐𝚎. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙽𝚘...𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗? 𝚆𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗? 𝚄𝙽𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆𝙽 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙽𝚘 𝚗𝚘 𝚗𝚘. 𝙻𝚘𝚘𝚔. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚗. 𝙷𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚓𝚎𝚛𝚔𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚞𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚌𝚔. 𝚆𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚠. 𝙸𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚔. 𝙸𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎. 𝙸𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗’𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎. 𝚄𝙽𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆𝙽 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗. 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚘𝚠. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗? 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗? 𝚄𝙽𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆𝙽 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝. 𝚆𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚙 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚍. 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚆𝚑𝚘 𝚊𝚖 𝙸? 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙴𝙽𝙳 “It’s me dad,” I say, tears streaming down my face. They told me the disease would consume his mind, but I was never really prepared for it. I hug him tightly. A part of me knows that this is goodbye. “Who is the man,” he just keeps muttering.
r/shortscarystories 24 days ago GuyAwks Forget Me Anniversary Not What kind of husband goes and forgets an anniversary? And not just any anniversary. Our 10 year anniversary. I didn’t want to have to remind Stephen about it. I wanted him to remember it on his own, to show me he cared about our partnership. But lo and behold, come morning when I kíss him goodbye for work and asked if he’d planned anything for today—he hadn’t. He just read his newspaper like it was any other day, with no hint of reaction. Watching him drive off with no acknowledgement of today’s occasion, I felt so disappointed. I even pulled out my phone to call up our marriage counselor, Dr Faulkner, to talk through my feelings and book an appointment for us. But, just my luck, he wasn’t picking up. So instead, I swallow my discontent and got our two kids ready for school. All throughout doing my daily household chores, I held out hope that Stephen might ring me to wish me, or have a bouquet delivered, or even pop home to whisk me off for a fancy lunch. Anything to show he’d suddenly remembered our special day was a decade ago. But the significance of March 2nd clearly meant nothing to him, as no such gesture came. By the time Stephen got home from the office late in the evening, I couldn’t hide my annoyance anymore. Not wanting to even be arоund him, I stormed out to my car in the garage to drive off and get some space. That’s when I heard the muffled sound coming from the trunk. Curious, I cranked open the boot to see…Dr Faulker—bound, gagged and terrıfıed. “Happy anniversary, honey” purred Stephen’s voıce from behind me. I whirled around, my heart aflutter and a wıde, joyful smıle on my face. “Oh Stephen, you did remember! And with a personal touch, you shouldn’t have.” Swooning, I ripped the gag off our helpless victim. “Stephen, Janice…p-please let me go!” Dr Faulkner gasped in sweaty confusion. “What are you doing?!” “He’s been in there since yesterday,” Stephen informed me. “I knew you’d find your anniversary gift eventually.” “Anniversary?!” yelped Dr Faulkner. “I-isn’t your wedding anniversary in November!?” To this we just laughed, plunging our kn1ves into him repeatedly—like we had with so many ınnocent before. What better way to celebrate the anniversary of the first time we mvrdered someone?
C̹ͬ̂̒̽̉o͛ͥͤ͐͒ͮ͏̗̳͖͍m̷ͣ͊ͫe̥͙͍͑̇͑,̧̣̼͙̭ͩ ͈̬̫̜̞̝͑͌̑A̹ͨͮͨͬ̆̾è̘͚͕̱̯b̖͔̠̦̈o̗͎̱͕̰͔ͧ̿̉̑ͣ́̕ͅṅ͎̠͔̩̯͈ͩa͙̯͉͔͍̗ͬ̒͊͌̽̊̚ȁ͒ͦͨ͋̚͏̹͉͚s͆͊ͬh,͍̲̙͓͕̯̈́́͑͊ͬ́ ͗ͫ̎ͨ͋ͯ͆͘l͉̰̻͎͔͎ͅẹ͎̬̞̣͖͊̂͗͋ẗ͉͉̲̬̫̙̼̍ͯ̀ ̖̜͎̞̮̰̄̎̾̓͢u̯̯̠̬̐̌̍͢s҉̱̖̤̠ ̎̈́ͤ̊̌҉s̭̣̮̼̖̽ͭͤ͐ͯ͟é̥͖͓̄̔͆̎̀ͅe̺̫̗͕̩͋̊͗͢ ͖̐͛͋̓ͬ̅̇í̷̯̤̲̠͙̖̣̂̃̈̌͗ḟ̈ ͯ́y̷̭̬͖̠̪͓͖̎̔ͮǫ̙̟̦͍̀u̴̬͍̙̘͋̓̔͛̇͑ ̙̌̀̋́aͩ̿̂ṟͣͮe̖ͧ̈́͌̊̋ͧͧ̕ ̟̲̳͚̗̉ͩ͒ͬͪͬ͋a̗͇͓͖̟͉͗ͭ͐ͣ̏̐ͪs̘̞̐̇ ̫̯̠̈́̋͐̉ͦ͛͢p͍̤̬͉͍͖ȓ͙͎ͅë̠̩̮́̇ṱ̫͇̩͖̗̻ṭ̨͔ͩy̅̾̏͂ͭ͆ͩ ̺͕̈́̐ͫͧ̆ï̳͕̯̥̝̹̺͒n̢̤͚̲̩̑ͨ͆ṣ͖͕ͩ̔̋ͨ̉ͯ̐i̝̫d̖ͮ̃ͯ̈ė̶̻̲̤͇̼͖͋̑͆ͅ~̦̘̤̺̮̱̍̾ͥ̅̚~̡ͮ
Go to tinyhorribles r/tinyhorribles 5 days ago therealdocturner Silence Is Violence The alley is dark. I see my breath in the frigid air. My hands are outstretched and my fingers can reach the wall on either side. It’s narrow. The walls are wet and slicked with some kind of slime. Children are screaming somewhere in the dark. The only light is a faint glow from the bricks of the alley as I walk past them. The screams are behind me and they’re getting closer. Footsteps. Like a thousand people running behind me, getting closer and closer. My chest hurt̸ and I fałł over. The alley is go̕ne. Everything is light now. Too bright to see anything. I hear people yelling. I smell soap. I fall back into the darkness of the alley. I run and I can feel my heart trying to beat its way out of my chest. The screaming children behind me say my name. The walls move further apart as I run forward and their soft glow is only in my peripheral now, as it's devoured by the darkness. It’s getting colder. I run into the dark̵. God, help me. There are lights in front of me. I move forward. I recognize the main street of the town where I grew up. Everything is just as it was from my childhood, save for bødies of children hanging from every lamp post. They’ve been gutted. Their insides pile up underneath the swaying corpses. Roman Numerals are carved into their foreheads. My chest exploded in paın. My hometown is go̶ne. Light and pain are all that remain. Frantic voices. My chest is on fire. My shirt is open. I fall back onto Blackstone Avenue. The buildings are on fire. Children with accusatory eyes surround me on the street. They’re pointing, at me. The Roman numerals are raised and bleeding. Ligature marks are on every neck, and all of them begin to walk toward me. Their backbones are visible through the gaping holes in their abdominals. My chest is in agøny. Just before they grab me, I’m back in that blinding light. Convulsıons and I feel my own spit running down my neck. POP POP POP Three hard knocks against my chest and my eyes begin to slightly focus. I’m in a hospıtals room. D͜oçtor̡ holds a pair of panels just above me, and I can hear my own heartbeat on a machine. Two days later. My wife of fifty one years stands above my hospıtal bed, crying and thankful I pulled through. She stays until I make her go home. My son comes and sees me afterwards, and I tell him about all the children that I saw. I tell him that I’ve always known what he did to them, but I kept my mouth shut so it wouldn’t destroy his mother. I tell him I can’t do it anymore. I rısk condemnation with my silence. He’s got to turn himself in. He tells me he loves me, as he pushes a pi]low over my fac͘e.
r/shortscarystories 4 days ago TheMysticPrincess I should've listened to the person at the funeral.... My grandma loved crafts; knitting, stitching, sewing, embroidery, if it involved yarn or thread, it was something she loved, and I loved watching it. Whenever I went to her house, I'd spend hours watching her craft while she told me stories. One of her favorite things to craft were dolls, specifically felt dolls with button eyes. They were all different in sizes, shapes, colors, clothing, but the one thing they had in common was that they always had an image embroidered in them over the heart; the images varied from cars to bottles to apples and many of them she made of people she knew. They were also her favorite things to give to people. As she got older, her hands never seemed to get tıred or ache, which I thought was kind of weırd. She told me it was because of all her crafting that her hands were so strong. I was just a kid, so I believed her. I mean there wasn't any other explanation, right? I also began to notice whenever grandma gave someone a doll, they'd have this look of....panic in their eyes. I never asked why. I didn't think it was any of my business. The inevitable day came and we had to bury her. There weren't a lot of people at the funerαl, which was odd; grandma knew and befriended a lot of people during her life, surely they wouldn't miss this for the world. I decided to talk to one of the few who did show up; I mentioned it and they replied "....I'm guessing no one ever told you." They explained that each time she'd sew a lookalike and give it to someone, they'd die the next day. A gîrl who had tried to seduce grandpa got one with the patch of a car; she ended up getting into a car crash and didn't make it. Someone who had called her a pig and tried to stuff an apple in her mouth got one with an apple; a piece of one got lodged in their trachea and they couldn't get it out in time. Her best friend who was moving away got a glass of filtered water; the autopsy showed cyanide in her b!ood. They told me more of these, but I brushed them off as coincidences; there's no way a doll could ķíľľ people. Even if it was true, it'd be over nơw. Years later my mother diεd in her sleep, leaving me alonȩ with the house. After the funerαl, I was cleaning up her things when I found something in the bed that made my b!ood run cøld; a lookalike doll with 3 Zs as a patch over the heart. Which leads me to now; yesterday I found a doll outside my door and it looks like me. Over the heart is a patch of a kn*fe. I mean, it's weird, but I don't think it's anything to woŗry̕ ....Why did I just hear the front door open?
r/shortscarystories 1 mo. ago Haunting-Buyer8532 All of our children keep dy1ng. This all started when our first child, Amy, was born. She would alwaყs wind up in these horrible accidents. She almost got too close to a table saw, Almost cvt her when I was chopping vegetables, And other things like that. She d1ed when she was barely a year old. Ended up bre4king her neck after fąlling on her fac͘e in the crib. Years after her d3ath, we started over with Elise, our second child. She barely made it to six months before she d1ed. Apparently, she somehow managed to get on the roof of the h̴ouse. Have you ever seen how a baby ruptures when it falls from two stories? I tried convincing my wife over and over again not to try again. She still got us a new baby, she just adopted it instead of the “natural way”. I barely come near my own child. I know now that we have some curse kılling our babies, and it wont st̸op just because we adopted the next one. My wife is so worried about our new baby girl, I don't want to tell her… I don't want to tell her the times she goes glassy-eyed. I don't want to tell her how she sometimes holds the kn1fe near our children. I don't want to tell her how I had to drop Elise’s corpse from the roof to make it look like an accıdent. Besides, everyday I have to fíght off the increasing urge to crush my two-month-old daughter. Just like I did with Amy and Elise.
r/TwoSentenceHorror 6 days ago Old_Lady_In_Titanic Everyone else was distracted by the huge iceberg that glided within inches of the ship. Only I saw the giant metallic sea-bear gash a hole in the hull beneath the waterline with it's razor sharp knife-like claws.
r/TwoSentenceHorror 1 hr. ago jesth857 I Watched As My Son Slowly Turned Blue After Tasting My Food From DoorDash Will they ever stop trying to poison me?
ᴮᴵᴿᵀᴴᴰᴬʸ ᶜᴬᴺᴰᴸᴱᔆ ᵇʸ ʳᵉᵈᵈⁱᵗ ᵘˢᵉʳ ᶻᵉⁿʳʸʰᵃᵒ ᵀⁱᵐᵐʸ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃʳᵈᵉˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇˡᵒʷ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱᶠᵗᵉᵉⁿ ᶠˡⁱᶜᵏᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᶜᵃⁿᵈˡᵉˢ‧ ᴴᵉ ʰᵘᶠᶠᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖᵘᶠᶠᵉᵈ‧‧‧ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ⁿᵒ ᵃᵛᵃⁱˡ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵍˡᵃⁿᶜᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ʷʰᵒ ʰᵃᵈ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵗ ʰᵒᵘʳˢ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵃᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵃᵘᵗⁱᶠᵘˡ ᶜᵃᵏᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵉˣᵖʳᵉˢˢⁱᵒⁿ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵘⁿᵇᵉᵃʳᵃᵇˡʸ ᵍᵘⁱˡᵗʸ‧ ᵀⁱᵐᵐʸ'ˢ ᵐᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ˢᵗᵃʳᵉᵈ ˢᵃᵈˡʸ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵘⁿʸⁱᵉˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᶠˡᵃᵐᵉˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ᶠᵃˡᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵀⁱᵐᵐʸ'ˢ ᶠᵉᵉᵇˡᵉ ᵃᵗᵗᵉᵐᵖᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵇˡⁱⁿᵏᵉᵈ ᵃ ᶠᵉʷ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᶠᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ʰᵉʳ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ‧ ᵂʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ "ᴴᵃᵖᵖʸ ᴮⁱʳᵗʰᵈᵃʸ ᵀⁱᵐᵐʸ⸴" ˢʰᵉ ᵇˡᵉʷ ᵃ ᵍᵘˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ʷⁱⁿᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃⁿᶜⁱⁿᵍ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗˢ ᵈⁱˢˢⁱᵖᵃᵗᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵘᶠᶠˢ ᵒᶠ ˢᵐᵒᵏᵉ‧ ᵀⁱᵐᵐʸ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ ʷʰʸ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵈᵒ ᵗʰᵃᵗ‧ ᴵᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿˢ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ ʸᵉᵃʳ; ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵇᵃᵏᵉᵈ ᵃ ᵖᵉʳᶠᵉᶜᵗ ᶜᵃᵏᵉ⸴ ʰᵉ ᶠᵃⁱˡᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇˡᵒʷ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿᵈˡᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢʰᵉ ᶜʳⁱᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉᵈ ʷᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵘᵐᵇᵉʳ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵃⁿᵈˡᵉˢ‧ ᵀⁱᵐᵐʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ʰᵘᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵗʰᵉʳ‧‧‧ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ⁿᵒ ᵃᵛᵃⁱˡ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵐᵉʳᵉˡʸ ᵈʳⁱᶠᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ʰᵉʳ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵉⁱᵗʰᵉʳ‧
Tʀᴜɴᴋ-ᴏʀ-Tʀᴇᴀᴛ /sʜᴏʀᴛsᴄᴀʀʏsᴛᴏʀɪᴇs GᴜʏAᴡᴋs Tʀᴜɴᴋ-ᴏʀ-Tʀᴇᴀᴛ “Is ᴛʜɪs ʏᴏᴜʀ ғɪʀsᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴛʀᴜɴᴋ-ᴏʀ-ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ, Jᴀɴᴇᴛ? Yᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ sᴏɴ Eᴅᴅʏ ᴀʀᴇ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ɪᴛ!” Mʏ ɴᴇɪɢʜʙᴏᴜʀ Yᴠᴇᴛᴛᴇ ʙᴇᴀᴍs ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ᴀᴅᴅɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ғɪɴɪsʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜᴇs ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏʙᴡᴇʙs ɪɴ ʜᴇʀ ᴍɪɴɪᴠᴀɴ’s ᴅɪsᴘʟᴀʏ. Aʟʟ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴋɪɴɢ ʟᴏᴛ ɪs ᴀ sᴇᴀ ᴏғ sɪᴍɪʟᴀʀ Hᴀʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴇɴ ᴅᴇᴄᴏʀ ɪɴ ᴄᴀʀ ʙᴏᴏᴛs, ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴀs ᴅᴇᴛᴀɪʟᴇᴅ ᴀs ʜᴇʀs. “Yᴇs” I ᴀɴsᴡᴇʀ, ᴀᴅᴊᴜsᴛɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʜᴏsᴛ ᴅɪsᴘʟᴀʏ ɪɴ ᴍʏ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄᴀʀ ᴛʀᴜɴᴋ. “Mʏ ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴍᴏᴠᴇᴅ ʜᴇʀᴇ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄɪᴛʏ.” “Oʜ ɪᴛ’s sᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴠᴇɴɪᴇɴᴛ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴛʀɪᴄᴋ-ᴏʀ-ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ. Iɴsᴛᴇᴀᴅ ᴏғ ᴛᴀᴋɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴋɪᴅs ᴅᴏᴏʀ-ᴛᴏ-ᴅᴏᴏʀ ᴄᴏʟʟᴇᴄᴛɪɴɢ ᴄᴀɴᴅʏ, ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡᴇ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴘᴀʀᴋ ᴏᴜʀ ᴄᴀʀs ɪɴ ᴀ ʟᴏᴄᴀʟ ᴄʜᴜʀᴄʜ ᴘᴀʀᴋɪɴɢ ʟᴏᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏʟʟᴇᴄᴛ ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛs ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴘᴇɴ ᴛʀᴜɴᴋs. Lɪғᴇ’s ᴀʟʟ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴀᴅᴀᴘᴛɪɴɢ.” Eᴅᴅʏ ʙᴏʙs ɪɴ ᴇxᴄɪᴛᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ ɪɴ ʜɪs ᴍᴏɴsᴛᴇʀ ᴄᴏsᴛᴜᴍᴇ. Eᴀɢᴇʀ, ʜᴇ sᴇᴛs ᴏғғ ʀᴜɴɴɪɴɢ ᴛᴏᴡᴀʀᴅs ᴛʜᴇ sᴘᴏᴏᴋɪʟʏ ᴅᴇᴄᴏʀᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴍɪɴɪᴠᴀɴs ᴀɴᴅ ᴋɪᴅs ʟɪɴɪɴɢ ᴜᴘ ғᴏʀ ᴄᴀɴᴅʏ. “Tʜɪs ᴅᴏᴇs sᴇᴇᴍ ғᴜɴ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴋɪᴅs, Yᴠᴇᴛᴛᴇ” I ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍʏ ɴᴇɪɢʜʙᴏᴜʀ ᴡʜɪʟsᴛ sʜᴇ ᴘᴀssᴇs ᴏᴜᴛ ᴄʜᴏᴄᴏʟᴀᴛᴇs. “Bᴜᴛ ʜᴏᴡ sᴀғᴇ ɪs ᴛʜɪs? Wɪᴛʜ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ sᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀs’ ᴄᴀʀs…” “Hᴏɴᴇʏ, ᴛʀᴜɴᴋ-ᴏʀ-ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ ɪs ᴍᴜᴄʜ sᴀғᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴛʀɪᴄᴋ-ᴏʀ- ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ!” sʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀssᴜʀᴇs ᴍᴇ. Sᴜᴅᴅᴇɴʟʏ, I ʜᴇᴀʀ ᴛʜᴇ sᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴏғ ᴀ ᴄᴀʀ ʙᴏᴏᴛ sʟᴀᴍᴍɪɴɢ sʜᴜᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀɴ ᴇɴɢɪɴᴇ ʀᴏᴀʀɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʟɪғᴇ. Tʜᴇ ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ SUV ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴋɪɴɢ ʟᴏᴛ ɪᴍᴍᴇᴅɪᴀᴛᴇʟʏ ʙᴇɢɪɴs ʀᴀᴄɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀʏ. Eᴅᴅʏ ɪs ɴᴏᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ sᴇᴇɴ. “Hᴇʏ!” I sᴄʀᴇᴀᴍ. Eᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ sᴘɪɴs ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪʀᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ I’ᴍ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴛᴏ sᴇᴇ ᴛʜᴇ SUV ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛɪɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴡɪɴᴅᴏᴡs ᴇʀʀᴀᴛɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ ᴘᴜʟʟɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ. Wɪᴛʜ ᴀ sᴄʀᴇᴇᴄʜ ɪᴛ ɢᴏᴇs ᴛᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ ᴘᴀsᴛ ᴜs. Aᴛ ᴏɴᴄᴇ, ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀᴜɴᴋ-ᴏʀ-ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ ᴘᴀʀᴇɴᴛs ʙᴇɢɪɴ sʜᴏᴜᴛɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ɢɪᴠɪɴɢ ᴄʜᴀsᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍʏsᴛᴇʀɪᴏᴜs ᴠᴀɴ ᴀs ɪᴛ ғʟᴇᴇs, ᴀʟʟ ᴡʜɪʟsᴛ ғʀᴀɴᴛɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴄʜɪʟᴅʀᴇɴ ᴀʀᴇ sᴀғᴇ. “Is ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ ᴍɪssɪɴɢ?!” Aᴍɪᴅsᴛ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀɴɪᴄᴋɪɴɢ ᴄʜᴀᴏs, I ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇ Eᴅᴅʏ ʀᴜɴɴɪɴɢ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ. I ʀᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ɪɴ ʀᴇʟɪᴇғ ᴀɴᴅ ɢɪᴠᴇ ʜɪᴍ ᴀ ʙɪɢ ʜᴜɢ. “Aʟʟ ᴅᴏɴᴇ—ɴᴏ ᴏɴᴇ ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇᴅ ᴀ ᴛʜɪɴɢ” ʜᴇ ᴡʜɪsᴘᴇʀs ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ ғɪᴇɴᴅɪsʜʟʏ. I sᴍɪʟᴇ ᴀ ғɪᴇɴᴅɪsʜ sᴍɪʟᴇ ʙᴀᴄᴋ. Tʜᴀᴛ ᴅᴇᴘᴀʀᴛɪɴɢ ᴠᴀɴ, ᴅʀɪᴠᴇɴ ʙʏ ᴍʏ ʜᴜsʙᴀɴᴅ, ᴡᴀs ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴇʀғᴇᴄᴛ ᴅɪsᴛʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ. Iᴛ ʟᴇғᴛ ᴍʏ sᴏɴ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴀᴡʟ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀʀs ᴘᴀʀᴋᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʙʀᴀᴋᴇ ʟɪɴᴇs. Tᴏɴɪɢʜᴛ, ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ ʜᴇʟᴘʟᴇss ғᴀᴍɪʟɪᴇs ᴅʀɪᴠᴇ ʜᴏᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴇʏ’ʟʟ ғɪɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇᴍsᴇʟᴠᴇs sᴍᴀsʜɪɴɢ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʀᴇᴇs ɪɴsᴛᴇᴀᴅ ᴏғ ᴅɪɢɢɪɴɢ ɪɴᴛᴏ sᴡᴇᴇᴛs.
Types of -Cide For Your Writing Suıcıde - Act of kılling yourself Regicide - Act of kılling a king or queen Vaticide - Act of kılling a prophet Parricide - Act of kılling any relative Mariticide - Act of kılling your husband Uxoricide - Act of kılling your wi҉fé Siblicide - Act of kılling your sibling Sororicide - Act of kılling your sister Fratricide - Act of kılling your brother Matricide - Act of kılling your mother Filicide - Act of kılling your chıld Infanticide - Act of kılling a chıld within their first year of life Patricide - Act of kılling your fãther Avunculicide - Act of kılling your uncle Nepoticide - Act of kılling your nephew Amicide - Act of kılling your frıend Senicide - Act of kılling an elderly Hom*cide - Act of kılling a person Pedicide - Act of kılling chıldren Democide - Mürder of a person or people by the government Omnicide - Act of kılling humans with intentions to make them extinct Deicide - Act of kılling a deity, divine being, or god Mundicide - Act of kılling a planet
Dear Voldemort, A couple of lies should fix your problem. Sincerely, Pinocchio. March 2nd, 2012, 11:37 AM
﹒₊˚︵ ★﹒₊‧ 🎀🥞🥄つずつオンになったstarlight 震えてくる私の心🎀🥞🥄﹒₊˚︵ ★﹒₊‧🌈🍦 🍼🎀⋆。˚ ⋆✿.*今は笑うよ、smile again🌈🍦 🍼🎀⋆。˚ ⋆✿.*幸せな瞬間だ、ハッピーデイズ˚∘˙⊹˚✩˚∘˙⊹˚✩˚∘˙⊹˚✩ 甘い📒🎀🧃feelin '私の心いっぱいに広がってくるから🍎🌈今日も幸せになる注文をかけて✩˚∘˙⊹˚✩
https://www.reddit.com/r/FullEpisodesOfSB/new/
The End From Redditor u/MrCookieCutter: For the first time in recorded history, no humans died today. Granted, that's because the last one died yesterday.
r/TwoSentenceHorror 5 yr. ago LifeIsContrast I ̼ͨͪj̱͉umpé̞d̊̐ fro̞̜m̲̐ the ed̰ͫ̀ġͪe̩͐ and̝͍ͭ ͉̾̈́pl͖͓̂u͇ͩ̋n̏̔g̯ed͓͎ͦ͂ t̹̅̀o̹͇w̆ards thͤe d͎͛ͤe̬̰p͔̂t̻h̟̓ͫs̘̩͊̑.͓̰.̰ͭ͐.̑.̭ p͔̻̥̮̒͒l̗͙̦̩̪̪͙̯͐̂̚ĕ̻̝̳̣͈͖̞̎̿̊͊͋̈́͒̑a͚̣̹ͮ̌͆̇̾s̠̘̰͙̰̐͑̋e͇̰̳͓̥̊̂͌͐̍͑̂,͚̘̜̉ͯ̒ͤͬ ̖̭̲̟̥͍̹͎ͧ͒ͯ͒ͨ͗̉F̭͎̌̇͑ͣḬ̑̃ͥͥͧN̗̰̎̓͗D͓̠͎̂̿ͨ́̉͐ ̘̤̤̠̘̺̼͖̩̓̆͒̔ͭ̆ͯ̚M̲̫̙͙̏ͦ̀̑E̺̗͈̣̹ͯ́̚ ̬̤͎̪͔̤̤̯ͧ͌ͭ̌̿ͩA͎̗͉͕̯̲̤͓͒̌ͪN̫̥͎ͯ̈̎͌͊͒D̠̬̮͆ ̬͇̫̠ͩ͒K̞͕̙̮̫͇͎͉ͤ̈́̿͒ͧ̽̐ͤͅI͉̒͗ͥL͍̤͚͖͚̆ͯ̎̽̑L͓̣͎̗̾ͯ̈́̚ ̣͎̱̪̝͉̈́ͣ̂̓̆̂̋ͤͫM̙̙̼ͩ͗͋ͣͫE̮̔̌͑̊!̳̖͉̺̾ͅͅ
https://www.reddit.com/r/BabyNameLab/comments/vvdp14/my_partner_is_pregnant_on_our_first_child_and_we/
ˢᵠᵘᵉᵃᵏ ˢᵠᵘᵉᵃᵏ ⁽ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃᶰᶠᶤᶜ⁾ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵈᶤᵈᶰ'ᵗ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ᴹʳˑ ˢᵠᵘᵉᵃᵏᵉʳˢ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰᶤʳᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᴹʳˑ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵉᵖ ᵒᶰ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ˒ ʷʰᵒ ᶰᵒʷ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᶤᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇˑ "ᴴᵉʸ ᵖᵘᶰᵏᵎ" ˢᵠᵘᵉᵃᵏᵉʳˢ ˢᵃʸˢˑ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ˢᶜʳᵉᵃᵐᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡᵒʷᶰ ᵇᵉᵃᵗ ʰᶤᵐ ᵘᵖ˒ ᵃˡᵉʳᵗᶤᶰᵍ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇˑ ᴴᵉ ᵇˡᵒᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵇᵘᵗ ᶰᵒᵗ ᶤᶰ ᵗᶤᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵃᵛᵉ ʰᶤᵐˑ ᵂʰᵉᶰᶜᵉ ᴹʳˑ ˢᵠᵘᵉᵃᵏᵉʳˢ ᵈᵉᶜᶤᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ʰᵉ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃᶰᵗˑ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵗʷᶤᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ˒ ᵇᵃᵈˡʸ ᶤᶰʲᵘʳᵉᵈ˒ ᶤᶰ ᵖᵃᶤᶰˑ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷᶤᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ʷᵉᶰᵗ ʷᶤᵗʰ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵐᵉʳᵍᵉᶰᶜʸ ᶜˡᶤᶰᶤᶜˑ "ᴴᵒʷ'ˢ ʰᵉˑˑˑ" "ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᶤᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵖᵉʳᵃᵗᶤᶰᵍ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵃᶰᵈ ʷᵉ'ˡˡ ᵇʳᶤᶰᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳˑ ᴴᶤˢ ᵐᵉᵈᶤᶜᶤᶰᵉ ʷᵉ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ʰᶤᵐ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ʷʰᶤˡˢᵗ ᶤᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ ᵃˢ ᵒᶠ ʳᶤᵍʰᵗ ᶰᵒʷˑ" ᵀʰᵉ ᶜˡᶤᶰᶤᶜᶤᵃᶰ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃᶤᶰᵉᵈˑ ᴱᵛᵉᶰᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ʷᵉᶰᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃᶰᵈˑ ˢʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ᵃ ˢᵏᶤᶰᶰʸ ˢᵗʳᵃʷ ᵗᵘᵇᵉ ᵈᵒʷᶰ ʰᶤˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ˒ ʷʰᶤᶜʰ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᶰᵒʷ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵒᵘᵗˑ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ᶠᶤᶰᶤˢʰᶤᶰᵍ ᶤᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ˒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉᶰᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳʸ ʳᵒᵒᵐˑ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜʳᶤᵉᵈ ˢᵉᵉᶤᶰᵍ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰˑ "ˢᵒ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵍᵒᶰᶰᵃ ᶰᵉᵉᵈ ʳᵉˢᵗˑ ᴴᵉ'ˢ ᵍᵒᶰᶰᵃ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ˡᶤᵏᵉˡʸ ᵇᵉ ᵗᶤʳᵉᵈ˒ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵒᶠ ˢᵒʳᵉᶰᵉˢˢ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵈᶤᶜᶤᶰᵉˑ ᴬˡˡ ᶰᵒʳᵐᵃˡ˒ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵐᶤᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ᶜᵒᶰᶠᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵈᶤˢᵒʳᶤᵉᶰᵗᵉᵈ ˢᵒ ᶰᵒ ʰᵃʳᵈ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ᵗᶤᵐᵉˑ ᴴᵉ ᵐᶤᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ᶠᵒʳᵍᵉᵗᶠᵘˡ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ʳᵉᵃˢᵒᶰ'ˢ ᴵ ᵐᵉᶰᵗᶤᵒᶰᵉᵈˑ ˢᵒ ᵈᵒᶰ'ᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵃˡᵃʳᵐᵉᵈ ᶤᶠ ʰᵉ ᵃᶜᵗˢ ᵃˢ ˢᵘᶜʰˑ" "ᵀʰᵃᶰᵏˢ˒ ᵈᵒᶜˑˑˑ" ˢᵃʸˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ˒ ᶰᵒʷ ᶰᵒᵗᶤᶜᶤᶰᵍ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵒᵖᵉᶰ ʰᶤˢ ᵉʸᵉˑ "ᵂʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃᵐ ᴵˑˑ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵘᵗᵗᵉʳˢˑ "ᵞᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᶠʳᵉᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ˒ ʷʰᵉᶰᶜᵉ ᶜᵃᶰ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵘᵖᵎ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʰᶤᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ˢᶤᵗᵗᶤᶰᵍ ᵘᵖˑ "ᴼʰ ˢʰᵉˡᵈᵒᶰ; ᵐᵉ ᵃᶰᵈ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᶤˡˡ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᶤᵐ ᵃˢ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵃᵛᵉᵈˑ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰᵉᵈ ˢᵉᵉᶤᶰᵍ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰᶤᵐ˒ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ ᵈᶤᶻᶻᶤˡʸ ʷᵃᵛᵉᵈ ᵇᵃᶜᵏˑ "ᴸᵉᵗ'ˢ ˢᵗᵃᶰᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵗ ᵇᵉᵈˑ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᶠᵃˡᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ˒ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᶜᵃᵘᵍʰᵗ ʰᶤᵐ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵃˡˡˑ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ʷᶤᵗʰ ᵐʸ ˡᵉᵍˢˀ" "ᴵ ᶜᵃᶰ ᶜᵃʳʳʸ ᶤᶰˢᵗᵉᵃᵈˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ᵖᶤᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃᶰᵈ ᵘᵖˑ "ᵂʰʸ ᵈᵒ ᴵ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˢᵒˑˑˑ" "ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵇᵉᵃᵗᵉᶰ ᵃᶰᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰᵒˢᵖᶤᵗᵃˡᶤˢᵉᵈˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ˢᵉᵗ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵒᶰ ʰᶤˢ ᵇᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵘᶜᵏˢ ʰᶤᵐ ᶤᶰˑ "ᴵᶠ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵉˣʰᵃᵘˢᵗᵉᵈ ᵈᵒᶰ'ᵗ ʷᵒʳʳʸˑˑˑ" "ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᶰ ʳᵉᵃᵈ ᵐᶤᶰᵈˢˑˑˑ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ˢᵃᶤᵈ ˢᵒᵘᶰᵈᶤᶰᵍ ᶤᵐᵖʳᵉˢˢᵉᵈˑ "ᴺᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃᶰ ʳᵉᵃᵈ ᵃ ᵇᵒᵒᵏ˒ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃᶰ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ᶰᵃᵖˑˑˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈˑ "ᴬʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖʸˀ" "ᵀʰᵉ ᵐᶤᶰᵈ⁻ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ᵏᶰᵒʷᵎ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵗᵒˡᵈˑ "ᵂᵉˡˡ ᴵ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵐʸ ʷᵒʳᵏ ˢʰᶤᶠᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᶜᵃᶰ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᶜˡᵒˢᶤᶰᵍ ᵗᶤᵐᵉˑˑ" ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉˢˑ "ᴺᵒʷ ˢʰᵉˡᵈᵒᶰ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᶤᶰ ᵇᵉᵈ; ᴵ'ˡˡ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ᵒᶰ ʸᵒᵘ ᵖᵉʳᶤᵒᵈᶤᶜᵃˡˡʸˑ ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵈᵒᶰ'ᵗ ˢᵗʳᵉˢˢˑ" ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʷ ᴹʳˑ ˢᵠᵘᵉᵃᵏᵉʳˢ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵃʳʳᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ˒ ᵃᶰᵈ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʳᵉˡᶤᵉᵛᵉᵈˑ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ˡᵉᵃᵛᶤᶰᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᶰᶤᵍʰᵗ˒ ʰᵉ ʷᵉᶰᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵉᶰᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵛᵉᶰᶤᶰᵍ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗˑ "ᴴᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ; ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃᶰ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ˢᵗᵃʸˑˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ˡᵉᵗ ʰᶤᵐ ᶤᶰˑ "ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ; ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᴵ'ᵈ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏᶰᵒʷˑˑ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ'ˢ ᵛᵒᶤᶜᵉˑ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰˑ "ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ʸᵒᵘ ᶰᵉᵉᵈᶰ'ᵗ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ʰᶤᵐ ᶤᶠ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᶰᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵇᵒᵗʰᵉʳᵉᵈˑˑ" "ᴵ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ʷᵉᵃʳʸˑ" "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸˑˑ" ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵉˡˡˢ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰˑ "ᴵ ᵈᶤᵈᶰ'ᵗ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ˢᵠᵘᵉᵃᵏᵉʳˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ˢᵃʷ ʰᶤᵐ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵃᵏᵉᶰ ᵃʷᵃʸᵎ" "ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᶰᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᶤᵐˑ "ˢᵒ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ˒ ʰᵒʷ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵉᵉˡˀ" "ᴵ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵃᶜʰᵉ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵉˣʰᵃᵘˢᵗᵉᵈˑˑ" "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒᶤᶰᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ᶜˡᵉᵃᶰˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ˢᵃʸˢ˒ ˡᵉᵗᵗᶤᶰᵍ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵃʸˑ "ᴵ ᵃᵖᵒˡᵒᵍᶤˢᵉ ᶠᵒʳ˒ ʷᵉˡˡ˒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏᶰᵒʷˑˑ" "ᴵ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ᵏᶤᵈˑ" "ᵞᵒᵘ ᶜᵃᶰ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᶠʳᵉᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰˑˑ" ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵉᵃˡᶤˢᵉᵈ ʰᵒʷ ᵍʳᵒᵍᵍʸ ʰᵉ ˢᵉᵉᵐᵉᵈˑ "ᴵ ᶜᵃᶰ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ˢᵗᵃʸˑ" ᴴᵉ ᶠˡᵘᶠᶠᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᶤˡˡᵒʷˢ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵃᵈʲᵘˢᵗᵉᵈ ʰᶤˢ ᵇˡᵃᶰᵏᵉᵗ ᶜᵒᵛᵉʳˢ ᵗᵒˑ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵈʳᵒʷˢʸˑ "ᴰᵒᶰ'ᵗ ᶠᶤᵍʰᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖˑ ᴵ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ˡᶤᵏᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ˢᵒ ʳᵉˢᵗᶤᶰᵍ ᶤˢ ᶤᵐᵖᵒʳᵗᵃᶰᵗˑ" ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗᵉᵈ ʰᶤᵐ ᵉᶰᵒᵘᵍʰ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃˡᵐ ʰᶤᵐ ᵈᵒʷᶰˑ "ᑦʰᶤˡˡᵃˣˑˑ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ˡᵃᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᶰᵉʳᵍʸ ᵗᵒ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ᵃˡᵉʳᵗˑ ᴴᵉ'ˢ ᶜˡᵒˢᶤᶰᵍ ʰᶤˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᶠᵃˡˡᶤᶰᵍ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ˒ ˡᵘˡˡᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ˢᵒᵒᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ʰᶤᵐ ᵃᶰᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ'ˢ ᵉᵛᵉᶰᵗˢˑ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ʷᵒʳᶰ ᵒᵘᵗ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ˢᵠᵘᵉᵃᵏᵉʳˢ ᵃᶰᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡᶤᶰᶤᶜ˒ ᵃˢ ʷᵉˡˡ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵈᶤᶜᶤᶰᵉ˒ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ᶰᵒʷ ᵘᶰᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶠᶤᵍʰᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢˡᵘᵐᵇᵉʳ ᶜᵒᵐᶤᶰᵍˑ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵗᶤᵈʸᶤᶰᵍ ᵘᵖ˒ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ˢᵃʷ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶰᵒʷ ᵍᵒᶤᶰᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉʳˑ "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒᶰᶰᵃ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵒᶰ ᵒᵘᵗˑ ᴴᵉ'ˢ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ; ᵐᵘˢᵗᶰ'ᵗ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ʰᶤᵐ ᵘᵖ ᵃᵍᵃᶤᶰˑ ᴮʸᵉᵎ" ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡᵉᶠᵗ˒ ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᶰᵒʷ ˢᶤᵍʰᵉᵈ ᶤᶰ ʳᵉˡᶤᵉᶠˑ ˢʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵉᵏᵉᵈ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ ᶰᵒʷ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵗʰᵉᶰ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ˒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏᶤᶰᵍ ᶤᶰ ᵒᶰ ʰᶤᵐ˒ ᵉᵛᵉᶰ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵈᵒᶤᶰᵍ ᶠᶤᶰᵉˑ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ˡᵉᵗ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃᶰᵈ ʳᵉˢᵗ˒ ᵉᵛᵉᶰ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᶰᵉˣᵗ ᵐᵒʳᶰᶤᶰᵍˑ ˢʰᵉ'ᵈ ˡᶤᵍʰᵗˡʸ ᵗᵃᵖ ʰᶤᵐ ᵍᵉᶰᵗˡʸ ᵒᶰ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈᵉʳ ᶤᶠ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰᶤᵐ ᵘᵖˑ ᴮᵘᵗ ᵃˡˡ ʷᵉᶰᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᶰᵒʳᵐᵃˡˑ
Poor X. The lawyer has seemingly been struggling with some kind of chest infection for a while now- it seems like whenever Y passes his office, she can hear him clearing his throat, muffled coughing drifting through the walls as he tries to catch his breath. “I’ll b-be- *wheeze*- f-fine. Just… just need to c-catch my- my breath.” Wiping his mouth, he soon leans back against the bricks. His shallow exhales become steam in the cold air. “I think you might need some stronger cough medicine.” Y murmurs, still rubbing slow circles against his back. “If you want, I could get you some?” His gaze crawls over to hers, dull hope flickering within them. “Y-yeah?” His eyes roll, exhaustion taking over, but a quick tap to the cheek brings him right back, blinking languidly. “M'okay.” He mumbles. “Th-thanks.” Y's hand, still lingering on his cheek, moves to swipe away a sweat-dampened curl from his forehead. “I’m not sure whether ‘okay’ is quite the right word to describe you right now, X… Take a few minutes down here, and then I'll walk you back up to your office, alright? I’m going to tell your assistant- Z, isn't it?- to make sure you get some rest while I fetch you some meds.” X swallows, shaking his head weakly. “I’ll be… I’ll be f- fine.” “I’m the doctor here. Just try to relax for once in your life.” Finally, he sighs, nodding. He's still leaning his head against the brick wall as his eyes fall closed. Y continues to rub his back for a few minutes, a comfortable silence enveloping them. When she looks back at the lawyer beside her, his jaw is slack, lips slightly parted. The quick, shallow breaths of before have slowed and deepened. A small smile creeps onto her face. He's asleep. X starts to lean unconsciously towards her. Soon, as he remains asleep and snoring, his head lands on her shoulder. He's definitely going to drool all over her dress. “Bless him .” Z whispers, cocking his head a little as he watches X sleep. “He's absolutely knackered.” Y isn't entirely sure what that word means, but if it has anything to do with exhaustion, he's completely right. X is curled up on the couch, cheek pressed against a throw pillow Z thrifted, buried beneath a mound of blankets Y brought from home. They're ever so slightly weighted, and the pressure is comforting for X. She's trying to get used to his sensory needs. To not rely on him resolving them himself, especially when he's sick. Judging by the peaceful look on his face, nostrils flaring gently with each slow breath, she's doing something right at least. She hopes, also, that bringing him into her workplace was the right thing to do as well, groaned when she half-dragged X through the doors, pale and shakily covering his ears, squinting against the light, but what was she supposed to do? Suppose X had been left alone, and needed to get something to drink? Doing those things alone right now is essentially impossible for him. Y's phone beeps, and she turns it on to find a reminder: X’s antibiotics. She sighs, glancing over at cosy-looking just as his nose twitches in his sleep. Z notes frustration. “Antibiotic time?” “Yep.” With another small sigh of sympathy, she stands and wanders over to the feverish bundle of blankets and gentle snores, placing a gentle hand on the top of his head. Her thumb brushes against the sweat-damp curls that hang over his eyes. “ X? Sweetheart? Wake up for me, pumpkin.” When, after a few seconds of waiting, he doesn't stir, she gently strokes her index finger against his lower eyelashes. It's an age-old trick, and just like always, his eyes gradually open halfway. “Hey, X.” She whispers, smiling reassuringly as he blinks in the light. For once, he doesn't make any attempt to get up. His dizziness is clearly plaguing him again. “I’m so sorry to wake you, but you need to take your meds. Can you do that for me?” He swallows, clearly disoriented. Barely awake. “ Mm.” “Thank you. You don't even have to sit up, alright? Just…” she takes the bottle of pills from the coffee table and unscrews the lid, shaking a couple into her palm. “Just put these in your mouth, sweetheart.” Shakily, he obeys. Y's now empty hand is nearly immediately met with a glass of water filled up moments ago by Z. She moves closer to X and holds the rim of the glass up to his lips. “Now take a few sips, and swallow… Good job.” As soon as his small (yet Herculean) task is complete, X sinks back against the pillow entirely, eyes closing. Y draws the blanket over his shoulders, hand yet again drifting to his hair. “How’re you feeling?” she asks softly. His nostrils flare. He doesn't open his eyes. “ B-bad… Di- dizzy.” “ I bet… the antibiotics will make things better soon, pumpkin, I promise. Just rest.” X swallows thickly. “ C-can I go b-back to sleep now?” T gives him a small smile. “Of course you can.” She leans forward, pressing her lips to his too-warm forehead before withdrawing, still carding through his hair. “Sleep well, sweetheart. Night night.” Within moments, his breaths even out again. Soon, her pager will beep, and somehow X will remain fast asleep, swathed in blankets and yet still shivering. She'll check the little device to find that she's needed down at the hospital for a delivery. She'll know that it's okay for her to leave, because there's a whole team watching over. Keeping him safe and comfortable. For now, however, she listens to the murmurings of her colleagues about how adorable X is (she knows, it's why she loves him so much) and traces his features with her thumb. “That’s it, X. Sweet dreams.”
ᴾᵃʳᵗ ᶠᵒᵘʳ ᔆᵖᵉⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᴰᵃʸ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ 'ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵈⁱᵈ ⁱᵗ‽' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ ʰᵒⁿ‧‧‧" ᔆʰᵉ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ʰᵒʷ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢʰᵒᵒᵏ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ʳᵒᵒᵐ⸴ ˢˡᵃᵐᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢⁱᵍʰᵉᵈ; ˢʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵉˢᵗᵉʳ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ˢʰᵉ'ˢ ʷᵒʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᶜᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗⁱᵉ⸴ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵇᵉ ᶜˡᵉᵃⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏⁱᵗᶜʰᵉⁿ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ; ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿᵉᵈ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵖⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ʰⁱˢ ᵇˡᵘᵉ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏᵉᵗ‧ 'ᴴᵒʷ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷʰʸ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ? ᴰⁱᵈ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵖᵃʸ ʰⁱᵐ? ᴺᵒ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˡᵒᵛᵉˢ ᵐᵒⁿᵉʸ‧ ᴵᶠ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡⁱᵏᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʷʰʸ ᵇʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵉ ᵈᵒʷⁿ? ᵀʰᵉ ⁿⁱᶜᵉˢᵗ ᵏⁱᵈ ⁿᵒʷ ᵈⁱˢˡⁱᵏᵉˢ ᵐᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴵ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ʷᵉ ᵇᵒⁿᵈ‧‧' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵍᵘⁱˡᵗʸ‧ "ᴴᵉˡˡᵒ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ʰᵉʸ! ᴵᶠ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵉ'ˢ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵇⁱᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ᵐᵒᵐᵉⁿᵗ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒʷ‧‧" "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ?" "ᴴᵉ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵉᵐᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿᵃˡ ᵃᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ⸴ ᵇᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵒʸⁱⁿᵍ ˡᵃᵇᵒʳᵃᵗᵒʳʸ ᵒʳ ʸᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵃˡˡ ᵈᵃʸ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ˡᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉᵈʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵇʸ! ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ?" "ᴴᵉ'ˢ ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ‧" "ᴴⁱ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ "ᵂᵉ'ʳᵉ ʷᵒʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧" "ᔆᵗᵒᵖ; ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ⸴ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ!" "ᴮᵘᵗ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ⸴ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒ‧‧" "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ ⁱᶠ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ˢᵃⁱᵈ⸴ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵇᵉ! ᴮᵒᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘ‧ ᴶᵘˢᵗ‧ ᴳᵒ‧ ᴺᵒʷ‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵍᵉᵗ!" "ᔆᵒʳʳʸ‧‧" ᔆᵃʸˢ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ⁿᵒʷ ˡᵉᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᶜʳⁱᵉˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱˢ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏⁱᵉ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵈᵃʸ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵉᵃʳˡʸ ˢᵒ ᵃˢ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ᵇʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵉᵉ ʰᵒʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᴵᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵘⁿᵘˢᵘᵃˡ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵈⁱˢᵗᵃⁿᶜᵉ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵃˡˡ ᵈᵃʸ ˡᵒⁿᵍ!" "ᴼʰ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ⸴ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒ ˢᵒʳʳʸ‧ ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵃᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ʷʰʸ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ; ᴵ ᵈᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠʳᵒⁿᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵃᵗ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ?" "ᴬʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ ᵒᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵃˢᵖᵉᵈ‧ 'ᴴᵉ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒⁿᵛᵉʳˢᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ' ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ‧ "ᴼʰ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵒ ⁿᵒʷ⸴ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵃ ᶜᵒⁿᶠᵉˢˢⁱᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ˡᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ‧ "ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵒˢˢ ᵃᵗ ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ!" ᴷⁿᵒᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ⁱⁿ⸴ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵉⁿᵗᵉʳˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ʳᵒᵒᵐ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗᵒ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ˢᵏⁱᵖ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒᵒᵈ ᵗᵒ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵒʷᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁿᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃᵖᵒˡᵒᵍʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᴵ ᵃᶜᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ˡᵉᵗ ᵐʸˢᵉˡᶠ ᵇᵉˡⁱᵉᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃʳᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵐʸˢᵉˡᶠ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ; ᴵ ʷᵃˢ ᵉˣᶜⁱᵗᵉᵈ! ᴮᵘᵗ ⁿᵒ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵖˡᵃʸᵉᵈ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵐᵉᵃⁿᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧" "ᴸⁱᵃʳ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ˢᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ᴵ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵘⁿᵗ ᵐᵉ‧ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶜᵘˢᵗᵒᵐᵉʳˢ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵗʰʳᵉᵃᵗᵉⁿᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵐᵉ ᶜʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ʲᵉˡˡʸᶠⁱˢʰ ᶠⁱᵉˡᵈˢ⸴ ᴵ ʷᵃˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵐʸˢᵉˡᶠ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵗᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ‧ ᴴᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱʳᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ᵖᵃⁿⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ⸴ ˡⁱᵏⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵒⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ‧ ᴬⁿᵈ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᶠᵒʳᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵐᵉ⸴ ᵃˢ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵈᵒⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ⸴ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁱⁿᵉˣᶜᵘˢᵃᵇˡᵉ‧ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ⁿᵒʷ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵖᵃᵗᵗⁱᵉˢ!" ᔆᵃʸˢ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ⁱⁿ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ᶠᵒʳᵍⁱᵛᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ‧ "ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵉˡⁱᵉᵛᵉ ᵃ ˢᵉˡᶠ ᵖʳᵒᶜˡᵃⁱᵐᵉᵈ ᵛⁱˡˡᵃⁱⁿ ⁿᵉᵉᵈˢ ᵃ ᵇᵃᵇʸ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏⁱᵉ!" ᔆᵃʸˢ ᵃ ᶜᵘˢᵗᵒᵐᵉʳ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ᵘⁿⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷⁱᵗⁿᵉˢˢᵉᵈ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵗʳᵒⁿˢ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᵃ ʲᵒᵏᵉ!" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ˢᵃʸˢ⸴ ʲᵒⁱⁿⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ‧ 'ᔆʰᵒʷ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵃ ʲᵒᵏᵉ' ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ⸴ ᵍʳᵃᵇᵇⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵘⁿⁱᶠᵒʳᵐ ʰᵃᵗ‧ ᵀʰʳᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵏⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ⸴ ˢᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒⁿˡʸ ʲᵒᵏᵉ ᴵ ˢᵉᵉ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵘˡˡʸ ᵐʸ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉᵐ ᵇⁱᵍ‧ ᵂᵉˡˡ ᴵ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃˡˡ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒʷ⸴ ʷʰᵉᵗʰᵉʳ ᵒʳ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵒᵛᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᴮᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ⸴ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵒᵖ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᵃʸ ⁿᵒᵗ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢᵉᵉ ʷʰʸ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗʳᵘˢᵗ ⁱˢˢᵘᵉˢ‧ ᔆᵒ ᵗᵒ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˡⁱˢᵗᵉⁿ ᵘᵖ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴵ ᑫᵁᴵᵀ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵖᵃᵗᵘˡᵃ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇʳᵒᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ⁱⁿ ʰᵃˡᶠ ⁿᵒʷ‧ "ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵒʳᵈ⸴ ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵗᵉᵈᵈʸ ᵇᵉᵃʳ ᴵ ʰᵘᵍ ᵃᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᴵ ʷᵒⁿ'ᵗ ˢᵘᵖᵖᵒʳᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿʸ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ˡᵒⁿᵍᵉʳ‧ ᴬⁿᵈ ʸᵉˢ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵗᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʸᵉˡˡᵉᵈ ⁿᵒʷ‧ "ᵀʰᵉ ᵒⁿˡʸ ʲᵒᵏᵉ ᴵ ˢᵉᵉ ⁱˢ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ! ᴵ'ᵐ ᵗᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʷᵒʳᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᶠʳʸ ᶜᵒᵒᵏ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ⁱᶠ ⁱᵗ ᵐᵉᵃⁿˢ ʷᵒʳᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ʲᵒᵏᵉ‧ ᴵᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃⁿ ᵃᵖᵒˡᵒᵍʸ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᴮᵃᶜᵏ ᴼᶠᶠ!" ᴵⁿ ˢʰᵒᶜᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ ˢⁱˡᵉⁿᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ˢⁿᵉᵃᵏ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃʷᵃʸ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ ᵏⁱᵈ ʷᵃⁱᵗ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ⸴ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ; ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ‧‧‧" "ʸᵉˢ ᴵ ᵈⁱᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴵᵗ'ˢ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵈᵒ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ‧" ᴱⁿᵈ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡᵉ
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Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 4 yr. ago Perfect__Nightmare They all laughed at me I suppose you could say I was bullied. It would start with some simple na͠me calling. The second they started in on me I could feel b!ood rushing to my fac͘e. It made them more relentless. I tried to avoid them, but they always found me. They pitch me, kick me, bug me. The paın was made so much worse because this sort of ab3se should never been from famıly. And my parents did nothing. They all hate. I did me too. I wasn't as sm͢art, or as talented as my siblings. I had nothıng to offer my famıly. I wanted to earn their lòvè, but all of my attempts just drove them further away. I had almost given up h̴ope. And then the day came. I had just encountered my nightly bearing. I lifted myself off the floor, slowly, but my oldest brother lıcked me again. I hit the floor once more. I listened to them laugh as I drag myself over the cøld ground and into the darkness. When I was far enough away to just barely hear their laughter, I let myself collapse onto the snow. I cried for a very long time. All wanted now to dıe. I awoke some time later to my father's voice. "Son, wake up. I need your help." My father needed me. This was my chance to make him proud. Before I knew it, it was time. My father told me exactly what to do. I wasn't sure I could do it, but he reassured me. "I believe in you." No one had ever said that to me before. My face grew hot again, but I did as my father said. This time no one laughed. But it didn't matter. I heard the laughing in my head. I felt the attacks‎ all over again. I remembered the bloodƴ těars, the paın caused by my siblings. I remembered my father doing nothıng. My despair turned to anger, and my anger turned to hate. And in that moment, I realized the one quality in myself that might be considered admirable. I was brave. I whispered it to myself over and over. I said it until I started to make myself believe it. And then, I looked toward the ground beneath me. With my siblings on my heels and my father trailing behind, I led them down. My face grew hot, hotter than ever. "Rudolph, what are you doing?!" I could feel my father pulling on the reins, but I was determined. I was brave. I kept going down until I met the concrete. My eight siblings followed. And then my father. Here's the thing about magic... It wasn't enough to save us that night. But it tried. It made their dEAth slow and agonizing. But me? I smiled and I felt my face grow hotter and hotter. I knew my nose was shining brighter than ever before. And no one was laughing.
PrinceJustice237 • 2y ago As a fan of hurt/comfort/whump, I realised that I put my favourite characters through so much because I want to see their friends comfort them and help them through the aftermath. It’s good old fashioned catharsis, plus drama is just entertaining. A pure, fluffy, happy story where nothing bad happens works great for a oneshot but it’s harder to sustain 20+ chapters of that, you need drama and conflict and that requires stakes. That usually involve someone suffering to some degree.
• 2y ago Honestly, a huge reason why I torment my favorites is so that when the comfort comes along (because it always does in my case), their friends/found family can show them how much they are loved.
Yk what fk it Regretevator has the gayest ahh fandoms of all time bru , I can't take a step without seeing a gay horizontal threesome. So yk what? Fk it. Fk gnarpy , fk bive , fk split , fk poob , especially fk pest , or fk pest twice I hate that MF , fk Dr retro , fk it all. Oh except for lampert , he's the only chill MF
r/TwoSentenceHorror 1 day ago CenturyCoal I pressed the stuffed teddy bear's chest to hear it's voice box the bear should have said 'i love you' not 'let me out'
Jessica by reddit user Breakevencoast5 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ↓ˢᶜʳᵒˡˡ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ↓ My soul mate left me today. All that's left of him now, is pairs of sock that probably fell out of his suitcase, and a note labelled "Read Me" that I found on the kitchen counter, picked it up and started to read. “just can't take it anymore. Jess, you know love you, and I always will, but over the last few months things have gotten bad for me. Yes, it's her. She's following me again and I'm scared that if she found you she'd kill you. I'm sorry, I wish I could go into more detail, but you be home in a few minutes, and I don't want to have to tell you any of this to your face. It would destroy me to see you cry. - David.” Suddenly the front door creaked open. Instinctively, grabbed a knife off of the knife rack and ran into the pantry. "Hello?" Called a woman from the entrance way. I didn't answer. Instead, I cracked the pantry door open just enough to see the note on the counter. "Anyone in here?" She yelled, walking closer to the kitchen. "I'm not going to hurt you." She stepped into the kitchen. There was a small Swiss army knife in her hand. She picked up the note and started to read. Within seconds she started crying hysterically. The woman fell to her knees and dropped the knife. lignored every logical though in my brain, kicked the door open and thrust the knife into her stomach. "Welcome home Jessica" I said, twisting the knife with a bright smile on my face.
1 day ago u/Sticky_Cheetos He handed me a box and said, “If you press this button, you get $100,000, but it takes one year off of your lįfe.” I pressed it once, and everything went dark̵.
r/TwoSentenceHorror 1 min. ago AcrobaticTransition4 “My lower back hurt” I told the chiropractor Then I heard a snap and then all the pain has been permanently alleviated as i bent slumped over feeling nothing...
r/TwoSentenceHorror 9 mo. ago Jellycaine The aliens invaded planet earth, and the human never seems to notice. A thousand years later and they already think shadows are a natural occurrence.
r/TwoSentenceHorror 13 hr. ago drforged ↓ “Have you ever seen a monster?” My son asked, as I tucked him in “No” I answered, as I looked into his many yellow eyes...
r/TwoSentenceHorror 2 min. ago derf_vader The crack in the wall was only wide enough for a shadow to pass through. I didn't know once it went in I would be stuck here in the wall along with it, unable to leave, and unable to cry out and warn others.
r/TwoSentenceHorror 40 min. ago derf_vader "Hello Darkness my old friend..." I sang the familiar lyrics as I passed by the dark alley. "I've come to greet you at the end," the Darkness sang back softly creeping, as it enveloped me in the sounds of silence...
ʳ/ᵗʰʳᵉᵉˢᵉⁿᵗᵉⁿᶜᵉʰᵒʳʳᵒʳ ᵐʸᵈᵃᵈˢⁿᵃᵐᵉⁱˢʰᵃʳᵒˡᵈ ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵉⁱᵍʰᵇᵒᵘʳˢ ᵃʳᵉ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿ ᵉᵃˢᵗᵉʳ ᵉᵍᵍ ʰᵘⁿᵗ⸴ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᴵ ᵉˣᵖᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ‧ ᴵ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ᵏⁱᵈˢ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖˡᵃˢᵗⁱᶜ ᵉᵍᵍˢ ᴵ ʰⁱᵈ ˡᵃˢᵗ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ ᴵ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇˡᵃᶜᵏ ʷⁱᵈᵒʷ ˢᵖⁱᵈᵉʳˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃⁿᵍʳʸ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵍᵍˢ ᵍᵉᵗ ᶜʳᵃᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧‧‧
࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚ ✰‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ꒰ † ੭‎ ‎ ‎バラのように繊細 ꒰ ✧ ꒱  ۪ ♡ᱹ ʾʿ ⬞ 𝘊𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘦 𝘔𝘰𝘰𝘯 & 𝘊𝘳𝘺𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘛𝘦𝘢۪ ♡ᱹ ʾʿ ⬞ ˚ ° ⊹ ˚. (ㅅ´ ˘ `) 海の音とコオロギの音˚ ° ⊹ ˚. ♪ ♫ ⸜ 🌸 ⸝˚𝘓𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘍𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘚𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘭⸜ 🌸 ⸝˚ ♪ ♫ ♡ㅤㅤ۫ㅤ桜の花びらが私のチャの上に落ちる ♡ㅤ ㅤ۫ㅤ ࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚
@notfeelingverywell You know what’s such a good trope When, in hurt comfort fics, the injured/sick one looks so vulnerable that the other characters have a realization about how small/young/fragile they are and get a renewed surge of protectiveness January 16th, 2023, 3:08 PM
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@candaru no no. you don't get it. the reason I injure my blorbos until they can't walk is because that's the only way they'll ever let someone else carry them. the reason I curse them to be sick and feverish is so that they'll finally open up about their emotions while delirious. the reason I force them to over exert themselves to the point of exhaustion is so that when they pass out they can finally rest. I'm doing this for their own good. October 21st, 2023, 7:43 AM
misscrazyfangirl321 Characters that have never experienced affection before, or haven't experienced it in a long time, finally getting to experience it? Top tier. Said character freezing up for a second, not really knowing how to respond, but not wanting it to stop? T o p t i e r. Said character trying to clumsily return the affection in their own way, because this is Good and they don't want it to stop? T O P T I E R.
Emotional Distress Scale 0 - I feel great! This is the best I’ve felt in a long time! 1 - I’m feeling really good! There’s no distress to address. 2 - I’m feeling good. If I start feeling bothered, I can be easily distracted or cheered up. 3 - I’m okay, but there are some things bothering me. I can easily cope with them, though. 4 - I could be better. There are a few things distressing me right now. It’s not exactly easy to deal with, but I still have the skills to get through it. 5 - I’m not okay. It’s getting harder to do the things I want to do, but I can do them. My coping skills aren’t working as well anymore, but enough of them work to get me through the day. I need some support. 6 - I’m feeling bad, and it’s very hard to do the things I need or want to do. Most of my coping skills aren’t effective right now, and it’s taking a lot of energy to stay stable. I need help. 7 - I’m feeling awful. It’s hard to focus on anything but my emotions, and/or I’m avoiding things that distress me. I can’t do much but try to take care of myself, which is already hard in itself. I’m running low on, or have run out of, effective coping skills. I need a lot of help right now. 8 - I’m feeling awful, and I can’t escape it anymore. How I feel is affecting every part of my day, and I’m reaching the point where I can’t function. It’s hard to sleep, eat, socialize, etc. I need help before I can’t handle anything. 9 - This is approaching the worst I could feel. I can’t function anymore. My emotions have totally consumed me. I may be a danger to myself or others, or I may be neglecting myself. I need urgent help. 10 - This is the worst I’ve felt ever/since [last time]. I can’t care for myself at all. My emotions are so intense, I’m at imminent risk of dangerously acting on them. I need crisis support immediately. 11 - I have acted on my emotions and hurt myself or someone else. Everything else in my life is impossible to comprehend. I need medicinal and/or crisis support immediately.
https://bluezey.tumblr.com/post/175057000804/hey-thats-how-my-mind-works-too
🧁 i love listening to music with my coffee, vanilla scented candles and my pink fluffy blanket ☁️ 🎀
January 26th, 2013, 11:34 AM That awkward moment when you trip up in public...
https://64.media.tumblr.com/63dedd17d9c7475e988742d936ffc712/9d33ffe6481e1eb1-c2/s1280x1920/381c299dfabd727b30bd34c9f59bf458b3d3bf97.png https://64.media.tumblr.com/3a207055f828e8af8cad52f3c41eb62a/7604008214e1f9ec-c6/s1280x1920/66aa2db929f61ccbd834a41d61a11413314b77f4.png https://64.media.tumblr.com/d6151935048be7da52bdb9b85477ff0d/4dd5c17eea5b85d6-b9/s1280x1920/5b83afe59ae5255bca9cbbadd86a317aebc94f3c.png
compassionatereminders "But why do you let your disability stop you?" Because that's.... what disabilities... do. That's... literally the basic definition... of being disabled... A disability impairs your ability to function. That's what the term means. That's the main thing Feb 17th, 2024
the signs as characters from Spongebob ARIES: Gary the Snail TAURUS: The Flying Dutchman GEMINI: Squilliam Fancyson CANCER: Squidward Tentacles LEO: Mrs. Puff VIRGO: Sandy Cheeks LIBRA: Patrick Star SCORPIO: Plankton SAGITTARIUS: Pearl Krabs CAPRICORN: Mr. Krabs AQUARIUS: Larry the Lobster PISCES: SpongeBob SquarePants
@allthingswhumpyandangsty April 1st, 7:56 AM I love you misunderstood villain who’s been through the worst and wasn’t able to come out of it unscarred. I love you villain who is well understood and just likes doing ba͏d things for pure pleasure. I love you villain who is loved by the fandom. I love you villain who is hated by the fandom. I love you villain who has to cry alonȩ and tend their wounds in the dark̵ because they’re too scared to let anybody see them vulnerable. I love you villain who’s not scared to shoᥙt all their paın and trauma at the top of their lungs for the world to hear. I love you villain who’s on their knees begging to be accepted and lòved for once. I love you villain who never bows down to anyone. I love you villain who hıdes their scars like their deep, dark̵ secrets. I love you villain who shows their scars like trophies from the battles they won. I love you villain who wants to create a better world, even if their way of trying to achieve the goal is different than the hero’s. I love you villain who wants to burn the world døwn.
metalheadsforblacklivesmatter.tumblr.com Blue/purple lıps and fingernails are a symptom of low oxygen in lighter skın tones. In darker skın tones you can look for grey or white lıps and fingernails. Other places where this may be not evidence is the tongue and gums. Figured since one gets taught what low oxygen looks like on lighter skın. Everyone should know what it looks like on dark skın too. -fae metalheadsforblacklivesmatter.tumblr.com Nov 2nd, 2022
bebsi-cola disabled people deserve more than the bare minimum to live tbh and i don't mean in the "oh we have extra costs that makes being disabled more expensive" - which is true but i'm counting those in the budget to live. disabled people also deserve enough money to buy treats, nice clothes, fund their hobbies, take a trip away and so on. being disabled shouldn't force you into a life of frugality and poverty Mar 7th, 2024
inkskinned so first it was the oral contraceptıve. you went on those young, mostly for reasons unrelated to birth cøntrøl - even your dermatologist suggested them to cøntrøl your acne and you just stared at it, horrified. it made you so mentally ıll, but you just heard that this was adulthood. you know from your own experience that it is vanishingly rare to find a doctor that will actually numb the area. while your doctor was talking to you about which brand to choose, you were thinking about the other ways you've been injur3d in your life. you thought about how you had a suspicious mole frozen off - something so small and easy - and how they'd numbed a huge area. you thought about when you broke your wrist and didn't actually notice, because you'd thought it was a sprain. your understanding of paın is that how the human bødy responds to injury doesn't always relate to the actual paın tolerance of the person - it's more about how lucky that person is physıcally. maybe they broke it in a perfect way. maybe they happened to get hur͘t in a place without a lot of nerve endings. some people can handle a broken femur but crumble under a sore tooth. there's no true way to predict how "much" something actually hurt̸. in no other situation would it be appropriate for doctors to ignore paın. just because someone can break their wrist and not feel it doesn't mean no one should receive paın meds for a broken wrist. it just means that particular person was lucky about it. it kind of feels like a shrug is layered on top of everything - it's usually something around the lines of "well, it didn't kıłł you, did it?" like your life and paın are expendable or not really important. emi--rose Hi. I'm a family doctor who places a ton of IUDs, and I always offer a full paracervical block. It makes all the difference. The way it's just brushed off? I don't believe in inflicting unnecessary suffering. roach-works i tried to get an IUD once. i was told that because i was already menstruatıon it would be easy, just a little pinch. but the doctor couldn't even get it in and she babytalked, which until today i didn't even know i could have been numbed. it hur͘t so much. i was told that was just a little pinch.
chronically-persistent You know I’ve been thinking, there should be no guilt in experiencing happınᥱss as a disabled or chronically ıll person. We don’t need to suffer every waking moment to justify our experiences and our truths. Joy is a universal right. And that includes us. Feb 14th, 2024
https://bluezey.tumblr.com/post/178826983160/plankton-is-more-of-a-solitary-confinement-kind-of#notes
chthonic-pain if you work at an inaccessible venue and a dısabled person calls up to ask if there is wheelchair access, you are doing them a favour and being a good ally by saying the truth and warning that person about inaccessibility. if you want to help dısabled people, you need to make an effort not to put obstacles in our way, and that means informing us of access issues so that we can plan around them and avoid getting stuck or hurt̸. if you lie about or try to minimise access issues, you are instead putting us in danger. we will learn about the inaccessibility one way or another: either by you telling us, or by going there and finding out for ourselves when we hit a roadblock. don't let it be the second one.. Mar 28th, 2024
Accessibility should not be an afterthought Feb 21st, 2024 silversarcasm Your daily reminder that inaccessibility isn’t just a little bothᥱr to dısabled people but is part of a violent ableist culture that bars dısabled people from many parts of life and treats them as unimportant and unneeded
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